“YOU MUST HAVE A DRINK FIRST,” SAID GRINGO HOSPITABLY
“You’re leaner than I am, you can slip between folks,” he said. “I never could hide my bulk. Still you’re white—that’s dead against you. How do you get over that in your travels?”
“It’s a great handicap,” I replied, “except when I’m hiding against something light. But it’s wonderful how one can overcome disadvantages.”
“You’re smart,” he said with a snort. “I guess you’d get on anyway. Call again, some time.”
I thanked him warmly for his hospitality, scurried down the side street, then round by another winding one to the Bowery! Oh! those narrow streets! Rich people have the ugly things at the backs of their houses. These poor people had the fire-escapes and clothes lines in front. No room at the back. Poor wretches—they even hadn’t air enough. I could smell the foulness of it. No wonder they get tuberculosis of the brain.
I dashed back to the Bowery which was airy and comfortable compared with these side streets. Then I mingled with the crowd on the sidewalk.
For weeks I had been living in a small town, and this seemed like old times, for I am a city dog born and bred. I love the fields and the forests for a time, but for week in and week out, give me the pavements and lots of excitement.
“In town let me live then,