She wiped the powder and rouge off her face. “No more of that stuff,” she said.
On the way back to my neighborhood she spotted a “Housekeeping Rooms” sign in the window of a dingy-looking house. She stopped the hack and put some money in my hand. “Dash up there, kid, and hire a room, anything that’s vacant.”
I secured a room quickly enough, came down, and got her. Cocky followed with the bundle of clothes. I lit the gas, Cocky threw the clothes on the bed.
“This is the dirtiest room I ever saw,” said Julia, “but it’s better than Miss Kate’s, and it’s home to me. Good night and many thinks. I’ll see you later, kid.”
Back at the cigar store I treated Cocky to a good smoke. “Kid,” he said, leering at me admiringly, “you’ve got a gold mine; that dame’s a money-getter. She’s young and healthy and good for years. Listen, you put her right out on the street. Make her walk the blocks. She’s workin’ for you then, an’ not the landladies and landlords. Keep her away from the other women. They’ll wise her up an’ you’ll lose her, or put her against hop an’ you’ll have a bum on your hands. That’s all, now. Are you goin’ to start her in to-night? The sooner the better.”
“No, Mac,” I was anxious to get away from him. “She’s tired and nervous. I think I’ll let her rest to-night.”
The police got Cocky that night. I never saw him again. He never learned of my treason in allowing Julia to stay off the streets.
She came into the cigar store a few days later, beaming, happy. “I’ve got a job, kid, at the Comique jerking beer. Not so good, but better than Miss Kate’s. It will do till I get a better one. Come down and watch me work.”
The Comique was an old-time collar-and-elbow variety show long since supplanted by the modern vaudeville show house. A dozen girls sold drinks to the patrons on commission. A girl could live on her commissions, but few of them did. I think Julia managed to do it. I went down to see her and found her bouncing with energy.
“I’ve made three dollars already to-night, kid, and it’s all mine.”