He was a "roller," or holdup man. He was watching a particularly drunken man who staggered along the street. If the man went into the darkness his fate would be sealed. The "roller" would be upon him like a panther. A crunching blow on the head with the short lead bar that the robber gripped in his hand. Then a hurried searching of the man's pockets. The extracting of his money and watch. Then back into the darkness again to wait for a new victim.
Suddenly the man drew back further into his hiding place. An automobile had stopped directly opposite him, in front of the E—— club. A well dressed man leaped from the machine and gave orders to his chauffeur to wait until he returned.
The man hurried up the steps to the massive door. The bell pealed back in an inner parlor. A liveried servant opened the door. As the man entered a negress, an assistant keeper, came towards him.
"Hello, Mr. W——, where have you been for the last couple of weeks?" inquired the woman.
"Been out of town," answered the man. Then he glanced around the place.
"Where's Mabel?" he asked, with a laugh.
"She's not here any more," muttered the negress.
"What's the matter—sick, is she?" asked the visitor.
"Nope; worse. She croaked a couple of days ago," answered the woman.