slowly moving streetward: "Are you looking for me, sweetheart? I am Tony Neddo."
He dared excuse himself, for a moment or two, from his "lady"—considering to what class she belonged! We withdrew out of her hearing. I was tickled to death on now beholding what I had drawn in the lottery. I had known the fellow was ultra-masculine. But not until that moment did I discover that he was handsome into the bargain. Indeed he was indisputably the best looker of the hundreds of young fellows who, with their "ladies," streamed by as we whispered together.
"How old are you?" I began.
"Nineteen is all."
"Eleven years younger than myself. Just my ideal age for a young man to be adopted as my son. Tell me frankly: Did anybody ever tell you that you are unusually good-looking?"
"That's not for me to say. But you yourself see me now when I have my own clothes on. I don't look as if I belonged to the weak, crippled sex—as you do yourself—do I? I look to be a he-man, don't I? While you are one of those awful she-men! Mr. Skirt, just think of your own shameful, disgustin' nature! Your secret and character have come into me power. And it wouldn't do you any good to hit back. I have nothin' at all to lose.
"But I'm only talkin' business now. Every bloke puts his foot into it now and again. And I did at our first meetin'. Because I was then just crazy for money. That's all. But it only looks as if I'm after your money. What I really and truly want is the chance to make your life happy. I want to be your
