houghtsbusy with the vision of lunch. Up and down the canyon of NassauStreet the crowds moved more slowly. Candy-selling alien

heir way to buy marriage-licenses. Menpopped in and out of the subway entrances like rabb

ere men who wore white satin ties with imitation diamondstick-pins, there were men who, having smoked seven-tenths of aciga

of mind itseemed to him that no further ingredient

clammy sensation of dismay. Hewould have had to admit that the words "High though his titles,proud his name, boundless his wealth as wish can claim" did notapply to Jimmy Crocker. The latter may have been "concentred allon self," but his wealth consisted of one hundred andthirty-three d

xcellent hotel and engaged an expensive roomtherein, had left instructions at the desk that breakfast shouldbe served to him at ten o'clock and with it the Sunday issue ofthe _Chronicle_. Five years had passed

inbed reading the good old _Chronicle_. Among his final meditationsas he dropped off to sleep was a gentle speculation as to

tan Island is thefirst Sunday paper. Jimmy, like every one else, began by openingthe comic supplement: and as he scanned it a chilly discomfort,almost a premonition of evil, came upon him. The Doughnut Familywas no more. He knew that it was unreasonable of him to feel asif he had just been informed of the death of a dear friend, forPa Doughnut and his associat

but it did not affect his materialwelfare. Tragedy really began when he turned to the magazi

T IT AGAINAnd bene

vim which outdid even Bill Blake's effort in theLondon _Daily Sun_. Bill Blake had been handicapped byconsideration of space and the fact that he had turned in hiscopy at an advanced hour when the paper was almost made up. Thepresent writer was shackled by no restrictions. He had plenty ofroom to spread himself in, and he had spread himself. So liberalhad been the editor's views in the respect that, in addition tothe letter-press, the pages contained an unspeakably offensivepicture of a burly young man i

mind had at firstfailed to grasp--to wit, that this character-sketch of himselfwas no mere isolated outburst but

ee us, had been accorded to him in full measure. By the time hehad completed his third reading he was regarding himself in apu

w he was! He wondered they had

he Mondaymorning he made his way to Park Row to read the files of the_Chronicle_--a morbid enterprise, akin to the eccentri

s bad as he had feared--only tobe crushed by another trenchant screed. After that he set abouthis excavations methodically, resolved to know the worst. Heknew it in

ey called him. Pi

d sought a quiet doorway where

f-esteem alone. It seemed to him that allthese bustling persons who passed knew him, that they werecasting sidelong glances at him and laughing

ensitiveness, he found thatthere were

his ancient position. So little thought hadhe given to the minutiae of his future plans that it had notoccurred to him that he had anything to do but walk in, slap thegang on the back, and announce that he was

ignment? What paper would consider Piccadilly Jim even onspace rates? A chill dismay crept over him. He seemed to hear

country that had nopossible use for him, a country where competition was keen

two weeks after you had left. A decent interval among thehusks and swine was essential. Besides, there was his father toconsider. He might be a poor specimen of a fellow, as witness the_Sunday C

cing and healthy, but aman cannot live on i

could

put forward was, it was true,but a temporary one, yet it appealed strongly to Jimmy. He hadfound i

ight again at Grand Central. He made his waywestward along Forty-second Street to the hotel which he thoughtwould meet his needs. He had scarc

me other place that you would prefer," saidJimmy. "I hope I haven't kept you w

s. Hischair was next to mine on the promenade deck."Jimmy was shocked. When he thought how narrowly she had escaped,poor gi

bs.""Don't be absurd!""Come along. I want to talk to you about my future.""I shall certainly do nothing of the kind," said Ann, rising. Shewent with him to the d

re are some things round the corner, then?""That sounds cryptic. What do you mean.""You've forgotten our conversation that night on the ship. Yourefused to admit the existence of wonderful things just round thecorner. You said some very regrettable things that night. Aboutlove, if you remember.""You can't be going to talk about love at one o'clock in theafternoon! Talk about your future.""Love is inextricably mix

veral weeks distant, andthe place was full of prosperous-looking lunchers, not one ofwhom appeared to have a care or an unpaid bill in the world. Theatmosphere

he Idle Rich. To my mind the ideal profession is strolling intothe o

with my dinner-pail, and you will come by in yourlimousine, and I shall look up at you and say '_You_ hounded meinto this!' How will you feel then?""Very proud of myself.""In t

Classified Telephone

for?" as

beingmethodical."The waiter returned, bearing a r

he become?" he said.

st. One might, for example, become an Asparagus Adjuster.""A what?""Surely you know? Asparagus Adjusters are the fellows who sellthose rope-and-pulley affairs by means of which the Smart Setlower asparagus into their mouths--or rather Francis the footmandoes it for them, of course. The diner leans back in his chair,and the menial works the apparatus in the background. It isentirely supersedin

r, asbecomes a man of affairs. There's nothing in the B's. I

dy in Celluloid, Fiberloid,and Other Factitious Goods, instinct tells me that there is nonefor--" he pul

ed again--"for Algerno

e had not dimmed herregard for the old man she had seen for that brief moment atPaddington Station. He was

"I cannot deny it.""I think your father

ed himself in th

don't quite like that last one. It may be a respectableoccupation, but it sounds rather criminal to me. The sentence forforging

became the Elastic Stocking King, grandpa!' What do youthink?""I think you ought to be ashamed of yourself. You are wastingyour time,

t Exterminator, a Junk Dealer, a Kalsomine Manufacturer,a Laundryman, a Mausoleum Architect, a Nurse, an Oculist, aPaper-Hanger, a Quilt Designer, a Roofer, a Ship Plumber, aTinsmith, an Undertaker, a Veterinarian, a Wig Maker, an X-rayapparatus manufacture

surveyed the room through a monocle. He was apleasure to look upon, but Jimmy, catching sight of him, startedviolently and felt no joy at all; for he

uld see him, he wouldcome over and address him as Crocker. He braced himself to thetask of being Bayl

a man of notoriously feebleintell

ed its sweep. It rest

!" said t

come over on a visit of pleasure, his suit-casestuffed with letters of introduction, but these he had not yetused. There was a feelin

in timeto be prepared for him. Suddenly assailed in this fashion, hewould undoubtedly have incriminated himself by recognition of hisname. B

of the blankest stares of modern times. Helo

was some kind of a confidence johnnie orsomething. It was absolutely rotten! He continued to blush tillone could have fancied him scarlet to the ankles. He backed away,apologising in ragged mutters. Jimmy was not insensible to thepathos of his suffering acquaintance's position; he knew Reggieand his devotion to good form sufficiently well to enable him toappreciate the other's horror at havin

ed off to restore his nerve centres to their normal tone atsome other h

ly and of which he would not have believed himselfcapable. "I suppose I must

is glass, sipped

familiar. I've heard the name before somewhere.""I was talking about Jimm

he man youdislike so."Ann was still looking at him as if

f doubles. There was a man inEngland a few years ago who kept getting sent to prison forthings some genial stranger who happened to look like him haddone.""I don't mean that. Of course there are doubles. But it iscurious that you should have come over here and that we shouldhave met like this at

ought to have explained that t

Chronicle_ lately? It has been publishingarticles about Jimmy Crocker's disgusting behaviour inLondon--they call him Piccadilly

ted yesterday.""I saw it," sa

bwas his very best friend. His step-mother told my aunt so. Heseems to be absolutely hopeless." She smiled. "You're lookingqu

to my aunt andpretend to be Jimmy Crocker, who had come over after all in a fitof repentance, she would be so pleased that there would benothing she wouldn't do for you. You might realise your ambitionof being adopted by a millio

ead to address an

lly!_ They used to call him the Boy Orator in hishome-town. Sometimes that, and som

to my friend, did you?"she said in concern. "But I meant it, every word. I love to hea

sentiment in yo

a check-book,and I haven't got one. Oh well, I shall find something to do allright. Now tell me something about yourself. Let's drop thefuture for awhile."* * * * *An hour later Jimmy turned into Broadway. He walked pensively,for he had much to occupy his mind. How strange that the Pettsshould have come over to England to try to induce him to returnto New Yor

oused him by utteringhis name, the name whic

and a certain exasperation. It was ridiculous to beincognito in a city which he had not

on's was of a kind whichthe poorest memory might have recalled. It was, as theadvertisements say, distinctively individual. The broken nose,the exiguous forehead, and the enlarged ears all clamoured forrecognition. The l

said the ba

what way can Ibrighten your life?"The grin f

""No. My name chances to be Algerno

Jimmy stopped him. Parting from Ann hadleft a l

ight Kid Burke four years ago in London."The grin returned to t

ok you for. Say, you're a dead ringer for that guy! I couldhave sworn it was him when you bumped into me. Say, are you doinganything?"

Mitchell. "I'm on the wagon m

received this homily in silence. It disposeddefinitely of the lurking doubt in his mind as to the possibilityof this man really being Jimmy Crock

at nor wouldhave refused the offer of alcohol. He fel