8

On the day following our night at the "Club" we slept until late in the afternoon; so late that beginning search for work was entirely out of the question. This did not cause me much worry, for I had more than three hundred dollars, and New York had impressed me as a place where there was lots of money and not much difficulty in getting it. It is needless to inform my readers that I did not long hold this opinion. We got out of the house about dark, went to a restaurant on Sixth Avenue and ate something, then walked around for a couple of hours. I finally suggested that we visit the same places we had been in the night before. Following my suggestion, we started first to the gambling house. The man on the door let us in without any question; I accredited this to my success of the night before. We went straight to the "crap" room, and I at once made my way to a table, where I was rather flattered by the murmur of recognition which went around. I played in up and down luck for three or four hours; then, worn with nervous excitement, quit, having lost about fifty dollars. But I was so strongly possessed with the thought that I would make up my losses the next time I played that I left the place with a light heart.

The day after our night at the "Club," we slept until late in the afternoon. It was so late that looking for work was out of the question. This did not worry me much, because I had more than three hundred dollars. New York had struck me as a place with lots of money, where it was easy to get some. I hardly need to tell my readers that I did not hold this opinion for long. We left the house around dark, ate something at a restaurant on Sixth Avenue, and walked around for a couple of hours. Finally, I suggested we visit the same places we had been the night before. So we went first to the gambling house. The man at the door let us in without a question. I assumed this was because of my success the night before. We went straight to the "crap" room, and I immediately made my way to a table. I was rather flattered by the murmurs of recognition that went around. For three or four hours, my luck went up and down. Then, worn out by nervous excitement, I quit, having lost about fifty dollars. But I was so sure I would make up my losses the next time I played that I left feeling cheerful.

When we got into the street our party was divided against itself; two were for going home at once and getting to bed. They gave as a reason that we were to get up early and look for jobs. I think the real reason was that they had each lost several dollars in the game. I lived to learn that in the world of sport all men win alike, but lose differently; and so gamblers are rated, not by the way in which they win, but by the way in which they lose. Some men lose with a careless smile, recognizing that losing is a part of the game; others curse their luck and rail at fortune; and others, still, lose sadly; after each such experience they are swept by a wave of reform; they resolve to stop gambling and be good. When in this frame of mind it would take very little persuasion to lead them into a prayer-meeting. Those in the first class are looked upon with admiration; those in the second class are merely commonplace; while those in the third are regarded with contempt. I believe these distinctions hold good in all the ventures of life. After some minutes one of my friends and I succeeded in convincing the other two that a while at the "Club" would put us all in better spirits; and they consented to go, on our promise not to stay longer than an hour. We found the place crowded, and the same sort of thing going on which we had seen the night before. I took a seat at once by the side of the piano player, and was soon lost to everything except the novel charm of the music. I watched the performer with the idea of catching the trick, and during one of his intermissions I took his place at the piano and made an attempt to imitate him, but even my quick ear and ready fingers were unequal to the task on first trial.

When we got out into the street, our group was divided. Two of us wanted to go straight home to bed. They said we had to get up early and look for jobs. I think the real reason was that each had lost several dollars in the game. I later learned that in the world of gambling, all men win alike, but lose differently. So gamblers are judged not by how they win, but by how they lose. Some lose with a careless smile, recognizing that losing is part of the game. Others curse their luck and complain about their fortune. Still others lose sadly. After each such loss, a wave of reform sweeps over them. They resolve to stop gambling and be good. In this frame of mind, they need very little persuasion to attend a prayer meeting. The first group is admired. The second is seen as ordinary. The third is held in contempt. I believe these distinctions apply to all the ventures of life. After a few minutes, one friend and I convinced the other two that a while at the "Club" would cheer us all up. They agreed to go after we promised not to stay more than an hour. We found the place crowded, with the same sort of thing going on as the night before. I sat down at once beside the piano player. Soon I was lost in the unfamiliar charm of the music and noticed nothing else. I watched the player, hoping to learn the trick. During one of his breaks, I took his place at the piano and tried to imitate him. But even with my quick ear and nimble fingers, I couldn't do it on the first try.

We did not stay at the "Club" very long, but went home to bed in order to be up early the next day. We had no difficulty in finding work, and my third morning in New York found me at a table rolling cigars. I worked steadily for some weeks, at the same time spending my earnings between the "crap" game and the "Club." Making cigars became more and more irksome to me; perhaps my more congenial work as a "reader" had unfitted me for work at the table. And, too, the late hours I was keeping made such a sedentary occupation almost beyond the powers of will and endurance. I often found it hard to keep my eyes open and sometimes had to get up and move around to keep from falling asleep. I began to miss whole days from the factory, days on which I was compelled to stay at home and sleep.

We did not stay at the "Club" very long. We went home to bed so we could get up early the next day. We had no trouble finding work, and on my third morning in New York, I was sitting at a table rolling cigars. I worked steadily for several weeks, spending my earnings on the "crap" game and at the "Club." Making cigars became more and more tiresome. Perhaps my more enjoyable work as a "reader" had made me unsuited to working at the table. Also, staying up late made sitting at the table almost more than I could bear. I often struggled to keep my eyes open. Sometimes I had to get up and move around to keep from falling asleep. I began missing whole days at the factory because I had to stay home and sleep.

My luck at the gambling table was varied; sometimes I was fifty to a hundred dollars ahead, and at other times I had to borrow money from my fellow workmen to settle my room rent and pay for my meals. Each night after leaving the dice game I went to the "Club" to hear the music and watch the gaiety. If I had won, this was in accord with my mood; if I had lost, it made me forget. I at last realized that making cigars for a living and gambling for a living could not both be carried on at the same time, and I resolved to give up the cigar making. This resolution led me into a life which held me bound more than a year. During that period my regular time for going to bed was somewhere between four and six o'clock in the mornings. I got up late in the afternoons, walked about a little, then went to the gambling house or the "Club." My New York was limited to ten blocks; the boundaries were Sixth Avenue from Twenty-third to Thirty-third Streets, with the cross streets one block to the west. Central Park was a distant forest, and the lower part of the city a foreign land. I look back upon the life I then led with a shudder when I think what would have been had I not escaped it. But had I not escaped it, I should have been no more unfortunate than are many young colored men who come to New York. During that dark period I became acquainted with a score of bright, intelligent young fellows who had come up to the great city with high hopes and ambitions and who had fallen under the spell of this under life, a spell they could not throw off. There was one popularly known as "the doctor"; he had had two years in the Harvard Medical School, but here he was, living this gas-light life, his will and moral sense so enervated and deadened that it was impossible for him to break away. I do not doubt that the same thing is going on now, but I have sympathy rather than censure for these victims, for I know how easy it is to slip into a slough from which it takes a herculean effort to leap.

My luck at the gambling table went up and down. Sometimes I was fifty to a hundred dollars ahead. At other times, I had to borrow money from my fellow workers to pay my rent and buy meals. Each night after leaving the dice game, I went to the "Club" to hear the music and watch the fun. If I had won, the fun matched my mood. If I had lost, it helped me forget. At last I realized I could not make a living both making cigars and gambling. So I decided to give up making cigars. That decision led me into a life that held me captive for more than a year. During that time, I usually went to bed between four and six in the morning. I got up late in the afternoon, walked around a little, then went to the gambling house or the "Club." My New York was limited to ten blocks. Its boundaries were Sixth Avenue from Twenty-third to Thirty-third Streets and the cross streets one block to the west. Central Park was a distant forest, and the lower part of the city was a foreign land. I shudder when I look back on that life and think what would have happened if I had not escaped it. But if I had not escaped, I would have been no more unfortunate than many young colored men who come to New York. During that dark time, I met twenty bright, intelligent young men who had come to the great city with high hopes and ambitions. They had fallen under the spell of this hidden world and could not break free. One was popularly known as "the doctor." He had spent two years at Harvard Medical School, but here he was, living this gas-light life. His will and moral sense had grown so weak and numb that he could not break away. I have no doubt that the same thing is happening now. But I feel sympathy rather than blame for these victims. I know how easy it is to slip into a swamp that takes a tremendous effort to escape.

I regret that I cannot contrast my views of life among colored people of New York; but the truth is, during my entire stay in this city I did not become acquainted with a single respectable family. I knew that there were several colored men worth a hundred or so thousand dollars each, and some families who proudly dated their free ancestry back a half-dozen generations. I also learned that in Brooklyn there lived quite a large colony in comfortable homes which they owned; but at no point did my life come in contact with theirs.

I regret that I cannot offer a contrasting view of life among colored people in New York. The truth is, during my entire stay in the city, I did not meet a single respectable family. I knew that several colored men were each worth around a hundred thousand dollars. I also knew that some families proudly traced their free ancestry back six generations. I learned that a fairly large community lived in Brooklyn, in comfortable homes they owned. But my life never brought me into contact with them.

In my gambling experiences I passed through all the states and conditions that a gambler is heir to. Some days found me able to peel ten and twenty-dollar bills from a roll, and others found me clad in a linen duster and carpet slippers. I finally caught up another method of earning money, and so did not have to depend entirely upon the caprices of fortune at the gaming table. Through continually listening to the music at the "Club," and through my own previous training, my natural talent and perseverance, I developed into a remarkable player of ragtime; indeed, I had the name at that time of being the best ragtime-player in New York. I brought all my knowledge of classic music to bear and, in so doing, achieved some novelties which pleased and even astonished my listeners. It was I who first made ragtime transcriptions of familiar classic selections. I used to play Mendelssohn's "Wedding March" in a manner that never failed to arouse enthusiasm among the patrons of the "Club." Very few nights passed during which I was not asked to play it. It was no secret that the great increase in slumming visitors was due to my playing. By mastering ragtime I gained several things: first of all, I gained the title of professor. I was known as "the professor" as long as I remained in that world. Then, too, I gained the means of earning a rather fair livelihood. This work took up much of my time and kept me almost entirely away from the gambling table. Through it I also gained a friend who was the means by which I escaped from this lower world. And, finally, I secured a wedge which has opened to me more doors and made me a welcome guest than my playing of Beethoven and Chopin could ever have done.

In my gambling days, I went through every state and condition a gambler can experience. Some days I could peel ten and twenty-dollar bills from a roll of cash. On others, I wore a linen duster and carpet slippers. Finally, I found another way to earn money. That meant I no longer had to depend entirely on my luck at the gaming table. I had listened constantly to the music at the "Club." With my earlier training, natural talent, and perseverance, I became a remarkable ragtime player. In fact, I was known at the time as the best ragtime player in New York. I drew on everything I knew about classical music. In doing so, I created some novelties that pleased and even astonished my listeners. I was the first to arrange familiar classical pieces as ragtime. I used to play Mendelssohn's "Wedding March" in a way that always stirred enthusiasm among the patrons of the "Club." Hardly a night passed without someone asking me to play it. Everyone knew that my playing was responsible for the great increase in visitors who came slumming. Mastering ragtime brought me several things. First, I gained the title of professor. I was known as "the professor" as long as I remained in that world. I also gained a way to earn a fairly good living. The work took up much of my time and kept me almost entirely away from the gambling table. Through it, I also gained a friend who helped me escape from this lower world. Finally, I gained an opening that has opened more doors for me and made me a welcome guest in more places than playing Beethoven and Chopin ever could have.

The greater part of the money I now began to earn came through the friend to whom I alluded in the foregoing paragraph. Among the other white "slummers" there came into the "Club" one night a clean-cut, slender, but athletic-looking man, who would have been taken for a youth had it not been for the tinge of gray about his temples. He was clean-shaven and had regular features, and all of his movements bore the indefinable but unmistakable stamp of culture. He spoke to no one, but sat languidly puffing cigarettes and sipping a glass of beer. He was the center of a great deal of attention; all of the old-timers were wondering who he was. When I had finished playing, he called a waiter and by him sent me a five-dollar bill. For about a month after that he was at the "Club" one or two nights each week, and each time after I had played, he gave me five dollars. One night he sent for me to come to his table; he asked me several questions about myself; then told me that he had an engagement which he wanted me to fill. He gave me a card containing his address and asked me to be there on a certain night.

Most of the money I now began to earn came through the friend I mentioned in the previous paragraph. One night, among the other white "slummers," a clean-cut, slender, but athletic-looking man came into the "Club." He would have looked young if not for the touch of gray at his temples. He was clean-shaven and had regular features. Everything about his movements had an unmistakable air of refinement that was hard to define. He spoke to no one. He sat there, lazily smoking cigarettes and sipping a glass of beer. He drew a great deal of attention. All the old-timers wondered who he was. When I finished playing, he called a waiter and sent me a five-dollar bill through him. For about a month afterward, he came to the "Club" one or two nights each week. Each time I played, he gave me five dollars afterward. One night, he sent for me to come to his table. He asked me several questions about myself. Then he told me he wanted me to play at an engagement he had. He gave me a card with his address and asked me to come on a certain night.

I was on hand promptly and found that he was giving a dinner in his own apartments to a party of ladies and gentlemen and that I was expected to furnish the musical entertainment. When the grave, dignified man at the door let me in, the place struck me as being almost dark, my eyes had been so accustomed to the garish light of the "Club." He took my coat and hat, bade me take a seat, and went to tell his master that I had come. When my eyes were adjusted to the soft light, I saw that I was in the midst of elegance and luxury in a degree such as I had never seen; but not the elegance which makes one ill at ease. As I sank into a great chair, the subdued tone, the delicately sensuous harmony of my surroundings, drew from me a deep sigh of relief and comfort. How long the man was gone I do not know, but I was startled by a voice saying: "Come this way, if you please, sir," and I saw him standing by my chair. I had been asleep; and I awoke very much confused and a little ashamed, because I did not know how many times he may have called me. I followed him through into the dining-room, where the butler was putting the finishing touches to a table which already looked like a big jewel. The doorman turned me over to the butler, and I passed with the butler on back to where several waiters were busy polishing and assorting table utensils. Without being asked whether I was hungry or not, I was placed at a table and given something to eat. Before I had finished eating, I heard the laughter and talk of the guests who were arriving. Soon afterwards I was called in to begin my work.

I arrived promptly and found that he was giving a dinner for a group of ladies and gentlemen in his own apartments. I was expected to provide the musical entertainment. A solemn, dignified man at the door let me in. The place seemed almost dark because my eyes had grown used to the harsh light of the "Club." He took my coat and hat, asked me to sit down, and went to tell his master I had arrived. When my eyes adjusted to the soft light, I saw more elegance and luxury than I had ever seen before. But it was not the kind of elegance that makes you uncomfortable. As I sank into a large chair, the subdued colors and the delicate, sensual harmony around me made me sigh deeply with relief and comfort. I do not know how long the man was gone. But a voice startled me, saying: "Come this way, if you please, sir," and I saw him standing by my chair. I had fallen asleep. I woke up very confused and a little ashamed because I did not know how many times he might have called me. I followed him into the dining room. There, the butler was putting the finishing touches on a table that already looked like a large jewel. The doorman left me with the butler, and I followed him farther back. Several waiters were there, busy polishing and sorting the table utensils. Without being asked whether I was hungry, I was seated at a table and given something to eat. Before I had finished eating, I heard the laughter and conversation of the arriving guests. Soon afterward, I was called in to begin my work.

I passed in to where the company was gathered and went directly to the piano. According to a suggestion from the host, I began with classic music. During the first number there was absolute quiet and appreciative attention, and when I had finished, I was given a round of generous applause. After that the talk and the laughter began to grow until the music was only an accompaniment to the chatter. This, however, did not disconcert me as it once would have done, for I had become accustomed to playing in the midst of uproarious noise. As the guests began to pay less attention to me, I was enabled to pay more to them. There were about a dozen of them. The men ranged in appearance from a girlish-looking youth to a big grizzled man whom everybody addressed as "Judge." None of the women appeared to be under thirty, but each of them struck me as being handsome. I was not long in finding out that they were all decidedly blasé. Several of the women smoked cigarettes, and with a careless grace which showed they were used to the habit. Occasionally a "Damn it!" escaped from the lips of some one of them, but in such a charming way as to rob it of all vulgarity. The most notable thing which I observed was that the reserve of the host increased in direct proportion with the hilarity of his guests. I thought that there was something going wrong which displeased him. I afterwards learned that it was his habitual manner on such occasions. He seemed to take cynical delight in watching and studying others indulging in excess. His guests were evidently accustomed to his rather non-participating attitude, for it did not seem in any degree to dampen their spirits.

I entered the room where the guests had gathered and went straight to the piano. At the host's suggestion, I began with classical music. During the first piece, everyone was completely quiet and listened with appreciation. When I finished, they gave me generous applause. After that, the talking and laughter grew until the music was only background for the chatter. But this no longer bothered me as it once would have. I had grown used to playing amid uproarious noise. As the guests paid less attention to me, I was able to pay more attention to them. There were about a dozen of them. The men ranged from a girlish-looking young man to a large, gray-haired man everyone called "Judge." None of the women looked younger than thirty, but each struck me as handsome. I soon realized that they were all quite blasé. Several of the women smoked cigarettes with a casual grace that showed they were used to the habit. Occasionally one of them would let out a "Damn it!" But she said it so charmingly that it lost all vulgarity. What struck me most was that the host grew more reserved as his guests grew more cheerful. I thought something was going wrong and displeasing him. Later, I learned that this was how he usually behaved on such occasions. He seemed to take cynical pleasure in watching and studying others as they indulged in excess. His guests were evidently used to his mostly standing apart. His attitude did not seem to dampen their spirits at all.

When dinner was served, the piano was moved and the door left open, so that the company might hear the music while eating. At a word from the host I struck up one of my liveliest ragtime pieces. The effect was surprising, perhaps even to the host; the ragtime music came very near spoiling the party so far as eating the dinner was concerned. As soon as I began, the conversation suddenly stopped. It was a pleasure to me to watch the expression of astonishment and delight that grew on the faces of everybody. These were people—and they represented a large class—who were ever expecting to find happiness in novelty, each day restlessly exploring and exhausting every resource of this great city that might possibly furnish a new sensation or awaken a fresh emotion, and who were always grateful to anyone who aided them in their quest. Several of the women left the table and gathered about the piano. They watched my fingers and asked what kind of music it was that I was playing, where I had learned it, and a host of other questions. It was only by being repeatedly called back to the table that they were induced to finish their dinner. When the guests arose, I struck up my ragtime transcription of Mendelssohn's "Wedding March," playing it with terrific chromatic octave runs in the bass. This raised everybody's spirits to the highest point of gaiety, and the whole company involuntarily and unconsciously did an impromptu cake-walk. From that time on until the time of leaving they kept me so busy that my arms ached. I obtained a little respite when the girlish-looking youth and one or two of the ladies sang several songs, but after each of these it was "back to ragtime."

When dinner was served, the piano was moved and the door left open. This let the guests hear the music while they ate. At a word from the host, I began playing one of my liveliest ragtime pieces. The effect was surprising, perhaps even to the host. The ragtime music almost ruined the party as far as dinner was concerned. As soon as I began, the conversation stopped. I enjoyed watching the astonishment and delight grow on everyone's faces. These people represented a large class who were always looking for happiness in something new. Each day, they restlessly explored and exhausted every resource of the great city that might offer a new sensation or stir a fresh emotion. They were always grateful to anyone who helped them in their search. Several women left the table and gathered around the piano. They watched my fingers and asked what kind of music I was playing, where I had learned it, and many other questions. They only finished dinner after being repeatedly called back to the table. When the guests got up, I began my ragtime version of Mendelssohn's "Wedding March," playing terrific chromatic octave runs in the bass. This raised everyone's spirits to the height of gaiety. Without thinking or meaning to, the whole company broke into an impromptu cake-walk. From then until it was time to leave, they kept me so busy that my arms ached. I got a little rest when the girlish-looking young man and one or two of the ladies sang several songs. But after each song, it was "back to ragtime."

In leaving, the guests were enthusiastic in telling the host that he had furnished them the most unusual entertainment they had ever enjoyed. When they had gone, my millionaire friend—for he was reported to be a millionaire—said to me with a smile: "Well, I have given them something they've never had before." After I had put on my coat and was ready to leave, he made me take a glass of wine; he then gave me a cigar and twenty dollars in bills. He told me that he would give me lots of work, his only stipulation being that I should not play any engagements such as I had just filled for him, except by his instructions. I readily accepted the proposition, for I was sure that I could not be the loser by such a contract. I afterwards played for him at many dinners and parties of one kind or another. Occasionally he "loaned" me to some of his friends. And, too, I often played for him alone at his apartments. At such times he was quite a puzzle to me until I became accustomed to his manners. He would sometimes sit for three or four hours hearing me play, his eyes almost closed, making scarcely a motion except to light a fresh cigarette, and never commenting one way or another on the music. At first I sometimes thought he had fallen asleep and would pause in playing. The stopping of the music always aroused him enough to tell me to play this or that; and I soon learned that my task was not to be considered finished until he got up from his chair and said: "That will do." The man's powers of endurance in listening often exceeded mine in performing—yet I am not sure that he was always listening. At times I became so oppressed with fatigue and sleepiness that it took almost superhuman effort to keep my fingers going; in fact, I believe I sometimes did so while dozing. During such moments this man sitting there so mysteriously silent, almost hid in a cloud of heavy-scented smoke, filled me with a sort of unearthly terror. He seemed to be some grim, mute, but relentless tyrant, possessing over me a supernatural power which he used to drive me on mercilessly to exhaustion. But these feelings came very rarely; besides, he paid me so liberally I could forget much. There at length grew between us a familiar and warm relationship, and I am sure he had a decided personal liking for me. On my part, I looked upon him at that time as about all a man could wish to be.

As the guests left, they enthusiastically told their host that he had given them the most unusual entertainment they had ever enjoyed. After they had gone, my millionaire friend smiled. He was said to be a millionaire. "Well, I have given them something they've never had before," he said. After I put on my coat and was ready to leave, he insisted that I have a glass of wine. Then he gave me a cigar and twenty dollars in bills. He told me he would give me plenty of work. His only condition was that I not play at events like this one unless he sent me. I readily accepted the offer, because I was sure I could not lose by such an agreement. Afterward, I played for him at many dinners and other parties. Occasionally, he "loaned" me to some of his friends. I also often played for him alone at his apartment. On those occasions, I found him quite puzzling until I grew used to his ways. He would sometimes sit for three or four hours listening to me play. His eyes were almost closed, and he barely moved except to light another cigarette. He never said whether he liked the music or not. At first, I sometimes thought he had fallen asleep, and I would stop playing. The silence always stirred him enough to tell me to play something. I soon learned that my work was not done until he rose from his chair and said, "That will do." He could often go on listening longer than I could go on playing. Yet I am not sure he was always listening. At times, I was so tired and sleepy that keeping my fingers moving took an almost superhuman effort. In fact, I believe I sometimes kept playing while dozing. At such moments, the man filled me with a kind of unearthly terror. He sat there so mysteriously silent, almost hidden in a cloud of heavily scented smoke. He seemed like a grim, silent, but relentless tyrant. He seemed to have a supernatural power over me, which he used to drive me mercilessly to exhaustion. But I rarely felt this way. Besides, he paid me so generously that I could overlook a great deal. In time, we grew close and comfortable with each other. I am sure he had a definite personal liking for me. For my part, I saw him then as nearly everything a man could wish to be.

The "Club" still remained my headquarters, and when I was not playing for my good patron, I was generally to be found there. However, I no longer depended on playing at the "Club" to earn my living; I rather took rank with the visiting celebrities and, occasionally, after being sufficiently urged, would favor my old and new admirers with a number or two. I say, without any egotistic pride, that among my admirers were several of the best-looking women who frequented the place, and who made no secret of the fact that they admired me as much as they did my playing. Among these was the "widow"; indeed, her attentions became so marked that one of my friends warned me to beware of her black companion, who was generally known as a "bad man." He said there was much more reason to be careful because the pair had lately quarreled and had not been together at the "Club" for some nights. This warning greatly impressed me and I resolved to stop the affair before it should go any further; but the woman was so beautiful that my native gallantry and delicacy would not allow me to repulse her; my finer feelings entirely overcame my judgment. The warning also opened my eyes sufficiently to see that though my artistic temperament and skill made me interesting and attractive to the woman, she was, after all, using me only to excite the jealousy of her companion and revenge herself upon him. It was this surly, black despot who held sway over her deepest emotions.

The "Club" remained my headquarters. When I was not playing for my good patron, I could usually be found there. But I no longer depended on playing at the "Club" for a living. Instead, I ranked among the visiting celebrities. Occasionally, after enough urging, I would treat my old and new admirers to a number or two. I say without any conceit that several of my admirers were among the best-looking women who frequented the place. They made no secret of admiring me as much as my playing. Among them was the "widow." In fact, her attentions became so obvious that a friend warned me to beware of her black companion. He was generally known as a "bad man." My friend said I had even more reason to be careful because the pair had recently quarreled. They had not been together at the "Club" for several nights. The warning made a strong impression on me, and I resolved to stop the affair before it went any further. But the woman was so beautiful that my natural gallantry and delicacy would not let me reject her. My finer feelings completely overcame my judgment. The warning also opened my eyes enough to see that she was only using me to make her companion jealous and get revenge on him. My artistic temperament and skill made me interesting and attractive to her, but it was this surly, black despot who ruled her deepest emotions.

One night, shortly afterwards, I went into the "Club" and saw the "widow" sitting at a table in company with another woman. She at once beckoned for me to come to her. I went, knowing that I was committing worse than folly. She ordered a quart of champagne and insisted that I sit down and drink with her. I took a chair on the opposite side of the table and began to sip a glass of the wine. Suddenly I noticed by an expression on the "widow's" face that something had occurred.

One night soon afterward, I went into the "Club" and saw the "widow" sitting at a table with another woman. She immediately beckoned me over. I went, knowing I was doing something worse than foolish. She ordered a quart of champagne and insisted that I sit down and drink with her. I sat across the table from her and began sipping a glass of wine. Suddenly, I saw from the expression on the "widow's" face that something had happened.

I instinctively glanced around and saw that her companion had just entered. His ugly look completely frightened me. My back was turned to him, but by watching the "widow's" eyes I judged that he was pacing back and forth across the room. My feelings were far from being comfortable; I expected every moment to feel a blow on my head. She, too, was very nervous; she was trying hard to appear unconcerned, but could not succeed in hiding her real feelings. I decided that it was best to get out of such a predicament even at the expense of appearing cowardly, and I made a motion to rise. Just as I partly turned in my chair, I saw the black fellow approaching; he walked directly to our table and leaned over. The "widow" evidently feared he was going to strike her, and she threw back her head. Instead of striking her he whipped out a revolver and fired; the first shot went straight into her throat. There were other shots fired, but how many I do not know; for the first knowledge I had of my surroundings and actions was that I was rushing through the chop-suey restaurant into the street. Just which streets I followed when I got outside I do not know, but I think I must have gone towards Eighth Avenue, then down towards Twenty-third Street and across towards Fifth Avenue. I traveled, not by sight, but instinctively. I felt like one fleeing in a horrible nightmare.

I instinctively looked around and saw that her companion had just entered. The ugly look on his face completely frightened me. My back was turned to him, but I watched the "widow's" eyes. From them, I could tell he was pacing back and forth across the room. I felt far from comfortable. I expected a blow to the head at any moment. She was nervous too. She tried hard to look unconcerned, but she could not hide her real feelings. I decided it was best to get out of the situation, even if I looked cowardly. I started to rise. Just as I partly turned in my chair, I saw the black fellow approaching. He walked straight to our table and leaned over. The "widow" evidently feared he was going to strike her, and she threw back her head. Instead of striking her, he pulled out a revolver and fired. The first shot went straight into her throat. Other shots were fired, but I do not know how many. The next thing I knew, I was rushing through the chop-suey restaurant and into the street. I do not know exactly which streets I took once outside. But I think I must have gone toward Eighth Avenue, then down toward Twenty-third Street and across toward Fifth Avenue. I found my way by instinct, not by sight. I felt like someone fleeing in a horrible nightmare.

How long and far I walked I cannot tell; but on Fifth Avenue, under a light, I passed a cab containing a solitary occupant, who called to me, and I recognized the voice and face of my millionaire friend. He stopped the cab and asked: "What on earth are you doing strolling in this part of the town?" For answer I got into the cab and related to him all that had happened. He reassured me by saying that no charge of any kind could be brought against me; then added: "But of course you don't want to be mixed up in such an affair." He directed the driver to turn around and go into the park, and then went on to say: "I decided last night that I'd go to Europe tomorrow. I think I'll take you along instead of Walter." Walter was his valet. It was settled that I should go to his apartments for the rest of the night and sail with him in the morning.

I cannot say how long or how far I walked. But on Fifth Avenue, beneath a streetlight, I passed a cab with one person inside. He called to me, and I recognized the voice and face of my millionaire friend. He stopped the cab and asked: "What on earth are you doing walking around this part of town?" In answer, I got into the cab and told him everything that had happened. He reassured me that no charge of any kind could be brought against me. Then he added: "But of course you don't want to be mixed up in something like this." He told the driver to turn around and go into the park. Then he went on: "I decided last night that I'd go to Europe tomorrow. I think I'll take you along instead of Walter." Walter was his valet. We settled that I would go to his apartment for the rest of the night and sail with him in the morning.

We drove around through the park, exchanging only an occasional word. The cool air somewhat calmed my nerves and I lay back and closed my eyes; but still I could see that beautiful white throat with the ugly wound. The jet of blood pulsing from it had placed an indelible red stain on my memory.

We drove through the park, speaking only now and then. The cool air calmed my nerves somewhat, and I leaned back and closed my eyes. But I could still see that beautiful white throat with its ugly wound. The pulsing stream of blood from it had left a permanent red stain on my memory.