t her husband's death was gone. She earned a
dollar or two each week by making shirts and drawers for the slop-shops,
spending every cent of this in policies. A few old friends who pitied
her, but did not know of the vice in which she indulged, paid her
rent and made occasional contributions for her support. All of these
contributions, beyond the amount required for a very limited supply of
food, went to the policy-shops. It was a mystery to her friends how she
had managed to waste the handsome property left by her husband, but no
one suspected the truth.

CHAPTER X.

"_WHO'S_ that, I wonder?" asked Nell Peter as the dark, close-veiled
figure glided past them on the stairs.

"Oh, she's a policy-drunkard," answered Pinky, loud enough to be heard
by the woman, who, as if surprised or alarmed, stopped and turned her
head, her veil falling partly away, and disclosing features so pale and
wasted that she looked more like a ghost than living flesh and blood.
There was a strange gleam in her eyes. She paused only for an instant,
but her steps were slower as she went on climbing the steep and narrow
stairs that led to the policy-office.

"Good Gracious, Pinky! did you ever see such a face?" exclaimed Nell
Peter. "It's a walking ghost, I should say, and no woman at all."

"Oh, I've seen lots of 'em," answered Pinky. "She's a policy-drunkard.
Bad as drinking when it once gets hold of 'em. They tipple all the time,
sell anything, beg, borrow, steal or starve themselves to get money to
buy policies. She's one of 'em that's starving."

By this time they had reached the policy-office. It was in a small room
on the third floor of the back building, yet as well known to the police
of the district as if it had been on the front street. One of these
public guardians soon after his appointment through political influence,
and while some wholesome sense of duty and moral responsibility yet
remained, caused the "writer" in this particular office to be arrested.
He thought that he had done a good thing, and looked for approval and
encouragement. But to his surprise and chagrin he found that he had
blundered. The case got no farther than the alderman's. Just how it was
managed he did not know, but it was managed, and the business of the
office went on as before.

A little light came to him soon after, on meeting a prominent politician
to whom he was chiefly indebted for his appointment. Said this
individual, with a look of w