less obstruction as they advanced, the second block being composed
entirely of houses, largely of the tenement type, and apparently
principally populated by children. Wray Street, once attained, was of an
entirely different character, being lined with homes, usually humble
enough outwardly, yet the throughfare was clean, and the small yards had
generally an appearance of neatness in marked contrast to its
surroundings. 238 was a three story brick, on the corner, the second
story evidently utilized for living purposes, and the ground floor
occupied as a saloon. The upper story exhibited no signs of occupancy,
the windows unwashed, and two of them boarded up. The saloon possessed a
fairly respectable appearance, the lettering across the front window
proclaiming it as "Mike's Place," and seemed to be doing some business,
several entering and departing by way of its hospitable door, while the
two lingered in uncertainty opposite. Standing there idly however did not
appeal to West.

"Well, let's go over," he said impatiently. "There is nothing to be
learned here."

It was an ordinary bar-room, and their entrance apparently aroused no
special interest. Besides the man behind the bar, a rather rough looking
foreigner, a Pole in West's judgment, three customers were in the place,
two with feet upon the rail talking with the drink dispenser, and, one at
a small table moodily contemplating a half emptied stein of beer. There
were three other tables in the room, and the Captain with a swift glance
about, drew out a chair and sat down, his action being imitated by
Sexton. The bar-tender came forward around the end of the bar, while the
man nearest shifted his position slightly so as to look them over,
conversation instantly ceasing. Something indefinable in the fellow's
attitude, and steady stare, gave West a feeling of hostility, which was