"Several years ago I found myself in New York; penniless, weary, and heartsick. I wandered one morning into a tiny park, mouldering in the shadow of the huge skyscrapers with which Manhattan is everywhere defaced. I sank upon a bench, pulled a soiled newspaper from my pocket, and scanned for the fiftieth time the 'Help Wanted' columns. Work I wanted of any kind, and work of any kind had eluded my tireless search for days—ever since my arrival in New York. The benches about me were filled with bleary, unshaven men; some asleep, others trying hard to keep awake; each clutching a paper which presently it seemed they might devour, goat-like, in sheer hunger. The stamp of cruel want convulsed each hopeless face, and crowsfeet lines of despair lay as a delta beneath each fishy eye. About us in all directions towered huge monuments of apoplectic wealth—teeming hives, draining the honey from each bee, tearing from thousands their best years, their finest endeavors, their very hearts' blood—all to swell the wealth of a bloated few! And we, the drones, sat mildewing in the little open space below!

"The man next to me, his head hanging over the back of the bench in ghastly jointlessness, awoke with a snort, stared about him stupidly, and something like a sob bubbled up from his Adam-appled throat. He wiped his eyes with the back of a grimy paw, and diving into a greasy pocket pulled out a short black pipe. Between consoling puffs he jerked out, 'A man's a damn fool—a damn fool, I say, to come to New York to look for a job! That's why you are here. Oh, I know. I can tell. You're a stranger all right; that's easy to see. You look the part.'

"'That's so,' said I, 'and worse. I am about down and out. Financially, I stand exactly twenty-one—no—twenty-three cents to the good.'

"'I am right with you, friend—only more so. I have nothing, absolutely nothing! You've twenty-three cents, hey? A bad number, that twenty-three. Give me the odd penny, and perhaps luck'll change for both of us.' I put the copper into his hand, and in chucking it into his pocket he dropped it. It rolled out to the center of the walk, and in an instant not less than a dozen men made a determined rush for it. There was a desperate struggle; others joined; it became a mad, screaming, tumbling, sweating mob. Instantly a crowd from outside gathered, and a free-for-all fight began. Hundreds flocked in from the adjacent streets. The affair quickly assumed the proportions of a riot. Knives and revolvers were brought into play. It was every man against his neighbor, and an unreasoning wave of frenzy and blood seemed to sweep over the crowd. The police rushed in from all quarters, but their efforts seemed powerless. My new acquaintance and myself, the innocent cause of all the trouble, managed to escape from the thick of the fray—he with the loss of a hat and a bleeding face; and I in much worse shape—physically sound, but—I had lost my twenty-two cents! We hurriedly entered a dark canyon which led to wider paths where quiet reigned. The tumult in the park, sharply accentuated by pistol shots, came to us like the roar of falling water.

"'What an astonishing thing!' said my companion. 'And all for a penny—a bloomin' penny! And to think of the fabulous wealth stored in the midst of all these tigers! Do you suppose that mere walls of steel and granite could withstand the fury of such a mob as this great city now holds, straining at its leash? Horrible things will happen in New York one of these days, and we will not have long to wait for it either. Discipline of the crudest sort, and a leader, is all that is needed to start a great army of destruction in motion!'

"'But how about the police, the Federal and State troops, supposed to be in instant readiness?' I urged.

"'They would count as nothing before the fury of an organized mob. A portion of the monstrous mountain of wealth stored here in New York City should be moved to a central, safer point; say St. Louis, Omaha, or even further west to Denver. It's piling up here is an ever-present menace and danger. It is a serious problem.'

"'Quite so,' agreed I; 'but there is a much more serious problem confronting you and me just at present, and that is a certain sickening emptiness which makes one weak and giddy. My few coppers stood between us and—and—well, serious thoughts of the future. I have never begged nor stolen, and yet——'

"'Oh, don't bother about that. The thing's easy,' said my friend; 'just watch me.'

"A fat, prosperous-looking man approached. His sleek face, garlanded with mutton-chop whiskers, was creased in smiles. Evidently a broker who had just 'done' some one, was my sour thought. There were but few on the street, and the outlook for business was favorable.

"'Pardon me, friend,' whined my companion, stepping out in front of him, 'but can't you give a fellow a lift? I'm a mechanic by trade, and——'

"'Oh, cut it out!' said the fat man, leering knowingly. 'I'm on to what you're going to say. Why don't you fellows vary your song and dance—just for luck? G'wan. Get out of the way!' And he tried to side-step us. With a quick glance over his shoulder, my new acquaintance shoved a revolver right up in the teeth of the prosperous one. Skyward the podgy, bejeweled hands, and we deftly went through him, securing his wallet, watch, scarf-pin, and then stripped his fingers of their adornment. It was over in a flash, and the fat man on his back by a dexterous push and go-down which the Japs might add with advantage to their much-vaunted jiu-jitsu.

"—Shoved a revolver right up in the teeth of the prosperous one!"

"'Beat it!' urged my companion, and 'beat it' we did; dropping casually but hurriedly into a corner saloon, then through a side entrance out into another street. I looked at my friend admiringly.

"'I suppose there's hell to pay around the corner just now,' said he coolly; 'but we are as safe here as if we were in Jersey City—and safer. Still, it won't do to linger. Come this way,' and he led me into a lunch-room of the baser sort.

"'Sit here, at this table, and I will eat at the counter. We had best not be seen together, though they would never look for us here.' I gazed at him in amazement. My bearded friend had become smooth-shaven! His neck, but a moment before collarless, was now surrounded by a high white-washed wall; he flashed a crimson tie, and somehow his clothes looked newer and sprucer. Of all the lightning-change acts I have ever seen, this was certainly the extreme tip of the limit!

"'What do you think of it?' he asked, grinning, jamming his whiskers still further into his pocket.

"'Wonderful!' said I.

"'Now,' said he confidently, 'I am absolutely safe, and I don't think the stout party saw you. Don't worry. I caught only my reflection in the little swinish eyes. I saw nothing in the background. What'll you have to eat? There seems to be enough in the pocket-book—which I ought to empty and chuck—to buy up several lunch-rooms, with the Waldorf thrown in for good measure.'

"'How much?' I asked.

"'Not now,' he whispered, 'not now. Wait until we get out. The proprietor is looking at us. Here's coffee, and pie, and sandwiches—ice cream—oh, anything you like!'

"We munched in silence and he pushed up a twenty-dollar bill in payment, much to the surprise of the man behind the counter. The change pocketed, we strolled out leisurely, picking our teeth with easy nonchalance.

"'I hated to give that fellow the double cross, but really, old cock, that is the smallest denomination in the bundle. Wander down to the Battery with me and we will investigate further.'

"'You're an Englishman,' I essayed knowingly. 'I am on to the lingo.'

"'Not on your life!' said he. Born in Newark, New Jersey, deah boy, I assure you—right back of the gas-house; what? These togs o' mine were handed out to me by an old pal—a cockney valet—and the accent goes with 'em, don't ye know?'

"'I'm on,' said I, sadder but wiser, and then relapsed into reverie.

"The Battery was thronged as usual, but we found a bench away from prying eyes.

"'Gee whiz! Jumping Jerusalem! Julius Caesar! Joe Cannon!' murmured my friend as he emptied the stuffing of the wallet into his hat. 'Am I dreaming again? I've often dreamt that I have found a bunch of money—picking it out of the gutter, usually—dimes, quarters, halves—bushels of 'em! But this is different—oh, so different! Can it be real? Am I on the boards again? Can it be only stage mon——? Look here; isn't this a windfall? Isn't this a monumental rake-off for a non-profesh? Heaven knows I'm but an amateur in this line—normally an honest man, with but slightly way-ward tendencies. Whooping O'Shaughnessy! Just look! Six one-thousand-dollar bills, fifty one-hundreds—that's eleven thousand! A sheaf of fifties and twenties, swelling the total to something like twelve thousand! Hoo-ray! Again I ask, am I dreaming? Pinch me, I'll stop snoring, 'deed I will. I'll turn over, dearie, and go to sleep again! Twelve thousand plunks! Wouldn't that everlastingly unsettle you? Well, well, well! Not so bad for a moment's effort before breakfast, eh? Ain't it simply grand, Mag? I wonder who and what our friend is, anyway. He wasn't dressed just for the part of bank messenger, though he had the inside lining, all right! A pursy old broker, I guess. Might have been a book-maker—you never can tell. Anyhow, I am sort o' sorry for the chap. It would break me all up if I lost a wad of that size! Who is he? Hell, what a fool I am! Here is the name on the flap of the wallet.

"'Abner McNamee! Abner McNamee!! Abner Mac——! Ain't this the limit! Abner McNamee! We can't take this money! Just my damned, hydra-headed luck! You hear me? It has always been that way with me—all my life! We can't take this money, pardner! It's got to be returned! This money's all got to go back—every cent of it! Ain't it a shame? Abner McNamee! I oughter have known him at the time, but I only saw him once, and that was years ago. He has taken on a lot of flesh since then. Abner McNamee! Who'd 'a' thought it?'

"'Who the devil is Abner McNamee?' I asked, scenting treachery. This was a share and share alike affair, and no crooked work, and—I needed the money! 'What's the game—this McNamee business? Do you think I am a fool?'

"'Look here, pal,' said my companion quietly, 'say bye-bye to your dirigible and drop to the ground. You're all up in the air. Of course we are together in this thing. I've no thought of doing you. I know you can make trouble if you want to. You could turn me over to the first cop that heaves in sight, and there's one over there now—why don't you do it? Of course I would have something to say in that event, and then there would be two of us in trouble; and with Abner confronting the pair, the odds would be all in my favor. He'd never recognize me! No, sir! But what's the use of hot-airing like this? Be good, now, and listen to me. We can't, can't, can't keep this money! Do you hear? Now let it filter through your make-up—slowly at first, and then as fast as you like. Honest, pal, we've got to give it back!'

"'Why?' I asked, still skeptical.

"'Oh, what's the use of your going on like that? You worry me with your fool questions! Here, take it all and accept the responsibility, and I will leave you! Here—take it! Take it, you idiot!'

"Somehow, I hesitated—held back by Heaven knows what.

"'No,' said he, returning the wallet to his pocket, 'I thought not! You know a thing or two after all. You haven't lost your mind. Looks are deceptive sometimes.' I instantly regretted my indecision.

"'What's the matter with the money?' I asked. 'I was just kidding you. Give it to me. Hand it over. I will take it.'

"'Never-r-r! Never-r-r!' he whispered mysteriously. 'This money belongs to THE CAUSE!'

"'Oh, come off!' said I with a foxy wink. Don't you think because I am a countryman I gambol exclusively on the green. I am not altogether to the emerald by a pailful! I've got you where I want you, and you know it! Quit your fooling and hand over the wallet! There's a cop over there now,' I added meaningly.

"'Yes, over there—I see him,' said my companion slowly. 'A cop—a very necessary evil, highly ornamental cops are, and occasionally useful. Now kindly look over this way, deah boy, and you'll see two more of 'em.'

"I looked, and then——WOW! (The Milky Way.)

"They took me to Bellevue, and three days later I found myself echoing, 'Six one-thousand-dollar bills, fifty one-hundreds—that's eleven thousand. A sheaf of fifties and twenties, swelling the total to something like twelve thousand! Hooray! Am I dreaming? Pinch me, I'll stop snoring, 'deed I will. I'll turn over, dearie, and go to sleep again! Twelve thousand plunks. Well, well, well! Not so bad for a moment's effort before breakfast, eh?'

"And my nurse smiled wearily."

"That New York is a fearful and wonderful place," said Colonel Manysnifters gravely. "I will never forget the first time I went there as a young man. Why, I didn't get any sleep at all! The first night I was there I turned in about two-thirty, took off my clothes, and got in bed; but it seemed sort of foolish and wasteful. Sleep in New York? Well, hardly. I argued that I could do that at home—and me paying three dollars a day! So I got right up, dressed, and started out to see the sights. It was about three o'clock then, and there wasn't any one around but the night clerk and myself. I asked him if he couldn't lock up the house and go out with me for a little while. He smiled, and said that he would like to do it, but he was afraid the boss might kick; so we had a drink together, and I went by myself. I was a green boy then and didn't know any better, but I am on to the little old town now, all right! They all know me up there. As soon as I get off the ferry, perfect strangers come up, call me by name, shake hands, and slip me a card. I don't mean to brag, but I know the location of every poolroom in the city! I have a friend in New York who writes the dramatic criticisms for the moving-picture shows; he puts me in touch with the theatrical and newspaper element, and I have seen some high old times up there, I tell you! One night—but, hold on—I've had my inning, Mr. O'Brien is at the bat, I think."

"—Writes the dramatic criticisms for the moving picture shows."

Mr. O'Brien blushingly admitted the charge.

"This is the first time I ever spoke in public," said the young man modestly, "and I crave your indulgence. If you don't mind, I will tell you about Judge Waddington and myself at Atlantic City last summer. Every one in Washington knows the Judge, and hopes that some day Congress will take up his claim and adjust it satisfactorily. The old gentleman is about all in, but we are doing what we can for him."