"You'll have to pay him anyhow, you know."
"I thought I might have to."
"Then you thought dead right. Why don't you get a fellow? They's lots of them. They got political pulls. Of course, they don't leave you much money for yourself, but they certainly can fix things up for you."
"Have you a fellow?" asked Mary.
"I sure have," said the child, grandly. "My girl friend an' I have had one between us ever since we left school last June."
"Does he treat you right?"
"As good as any. He beats us up once in a while when we don't earn enough, or when he's more than usual lit up. But he keeps the cops away, an' he gets us good trade, an' he's true to the two of us. He'd ought to be; we make good money for him."
Mary listened in a kind of awe.
"You like him?" she asked.
"I love him," the child emphatically declared. "Lots of the girls hates their fellows, but daren't leave 'em because their fellows'd have 'em pinched right off—but I love mine. You ought to get one. I'll put you next."