ose pride overbalanced the dollars of
the city's millionaires.

"Why don't you cop the lady out?" asked Mack, bringing me down to
earth and dialect again.

I explained to him that my worth was so small, my income so minute,
and my fears so large that I hadn't the courage to speak to her of
my worship. I told him that in her presence I could only blush and
stammer, and that she looked upon me with a wonderful, maddening smile
of amusement.

"She kind of moves in the professional class, don't she?" asked Mack.

"The Telfair family--" I began, haughtily.

"I mean professional beauty," said my hearer.

"She is greatly and widely admired," I answered, cautiously.

"Any sisters?"

"One."

"You know any more girls?"

"Why, several," I answered. "And a few others."

"Say," said Mack, "tell me one thing--can you hand out the dope
to other girls? Can you chin 'em and make matinee eyes at 'em and
squeeze 'em? You know what I mean. You're just shy when it comes to
this particular dame--the professional beauty--ain't that right?"

"In a way you have outlined the situation with approximate truth," I
admitted.

"I thought so," said Mack, grimly. "Now, that reminds me of my own
case. I'll tell you about it."

I was indignant, but concealed it. What was this loafer's case or
anybody's case compared with mine? Besides, I had given him a dollar
and ten cents.

"Feel my muscle," said my companion, suddenly, flexing his biceps. I
did so mechanically. The fellows in gyms are always asking you to do
that. His arm was as hard as cast-iron.

"Four years ago," said Mack, "I could lick any man in New York outside
of the professional ring. Your case and mine is just the same. I come
from the West Side--between Thirtieth and Fourteenth--I won't give the
number on the door. I was a scrapper when I was ten, and when I was
twenty no amateur in the city could stand up four rounds with me. 'S
a fact. You know Bill McCarty? No? He managed the smokers for some
of them swell clubs. Well, I knocked out everything Bill brought up
before me. I was a middle-weight, but could train down to a welter
when necessary. I boxed all over the West Side at bouts and benefits
and private entertainments, and was never put out once.

"But, say, the first time I put my foot in the ring with a professional
I was no more than a canned lobster. I dunno how it was--I seemed to
lose heart. I guess I got too much imagination. There was a formality
and publ