“Hell,” said the man, “I didn’t think he was that bad. Here, take the lousy money.”
I hurried back to the milkman. “Here’s Mr. Finucane’s two dollars.”
“How on earth did you ever collect it?”
“Oh, he just got tired and paid me, that’s all.”
“Well, I’ll make you a present of them,” said he handing me the money. “You certainly earned them.”
The following week I called at Madam Kate Singleton’s with my bill. The colored maid who opened the door showed me a seat in the hall and told me to wait. The madam was dressing. I sat there a few minutes and there was a ring at the door. The maid opened it and an excited little man brushed in, followed by two big men who were not a bit excited. As the door was closing I got a glimpse of a policeman in uniform on the steps.
One of the two men spoke to the maid who went upstairs, and in a minute the madam came down. She waved the men into a room off the hall and closed the door. I listened, but they talked too low for me to hear what they were saying. Presently the madam opened the door and called out: “Oh, girls, come downstairs every one of you.” Half a dozen girls appeared as if by magic. They were all brought into the room and the door closed again.
Nobody paid any attention to me. Now I heard loud voices in the room, but so many were talking at once that I could make nothing of it. Then one of the big men came out, went to the front door, opened it, and said to the policeman: “Send Mike around to the back; tell him to let nobody out. I’ll phone for the wagon. We’ll have to take them all to the station. They won’t talk.”
He disappeared into the room. I got up and opened the front door.
“Where are you goin’?” said the policeman.