to the cashier's desk and at the last instant bumped into

a waitress with a trayful of dishes. Clutched tightly in

Willie's hand was thirty five cents and his check with a

like amount written upon it. Amid the crash of crockery

which followed the collision Willie slammed check and

money upon the cashier's desk and fled. Nor did he

pause until in the reassuring seclusion of a dark side-

street. There Willie sank upon the curb alternately cold

with fear and hot with shame, weak and panting, and

into his heart entered the iron of class hatred, searing

it to the core.

Fortunately for youth it recuperates rapidly from mor-

tal blows, and so it was that another half hour found

Willie wandering up and down Broadway but at the

far end of the street from The Elite Restaurant. A mo-

tion picture theater arrested his attention; and pres-

ently, parting with one of his two remaining dimes, he

entered. The feature of the bill was a detective melo-

drama. Nothing in the world could have better suited

Willie's psychic needs. It recalled his earlier feats of

the day, in which he took pardonable pride, and raised

him once again to a self-confidence he had not felt since

be entered the ever to be hated Elite Restaurant.

The show over Willie set forth afoot for home. A

long walk lay ahead of him. This in itself was bad

enough; but what lay at the end of the long walk was

infinitely worse, as Willie's father had warned him to

return immediately after the inquest, in time for milk-

ing, preferably. Before he had gone two blocks from the

theater Willie had concocted at least three tales to ac-

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