Soapy left his be of the square and up Broadway. He stopped at the dlittering cafe. He was shaven and his coat was det. If he could reach a table i, the portion of him that would show above the table would raise no doubt ier's mind. A roasted duck, thought Soapy, with a bottle of wihen some cheese, a cup of d a cigar would be enough. Suer would make him happy, for the jouro his winter refuge.

    But as Soapy eaurant door, the head waiter's eye fell upon his shabby trousers and old sh hands turned him about and pushed him ie out i.

    Soapy turned off Broadway. Some other way  the desirable refuge must be found.

    At a er of Sixth Aveook a stohrough the glass of a glittering shop window. People ing around the er, a poli at the head of them. Soapy stood still, with his hands in his pod smiled at the sight of the poli.

    "Where is the man that has do?" asked the poli.

    "Don't you think that I have had something to do with it?" said Soapy, not without sarcasm, but friendly.

    The poli paid o Soapy. Men who break windows do o speak with poli. They run away. He saw a man running to catch a d rushed after him with his sti his hand. Soapy, with disgust i, walked along, twisuccessful.

    Oe side of the street was a little restaurah large appetites a purses. Soapy ehis place without difficulty. He sat at a table aeak ahehe waiter that he had no money.

    "Now go and call a cop," said Soapy. "And doleman waiting."

    "No cop for you," sai