Tips . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5,750 00
----------
Total . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . $5,823 00


"'That's the voice of New York,' goes on Andy. 'The town's nothing but
a head waiter. If you tip it too much it'll go and stand by the door
and make fun of you to the hat check boy. When a Pittsburger wants to
spend money and have a good time he stays at home. That's where we'll
go to catch him.'

"Well, to make a dense story more condensed, me and Andy cached our
paris green and antipyrine powders and albums in a friend's cellar,
and took the trail to Pittsburg. Andy didn't have any especial
prospectus of chicanery and violence drawn up, but he always had
plenty of confidence that his immoral nature would rise to any
occasion that presented itself.

"As a concession to my ideas of self-preservation and rectitude he
promised that if I should take an active and incriminating part in
any little business venture that we might work up there should be
something actual and cognizant to the senses of touch, sight, taste or
smell to transfer to the victim for the money so my conscience might
rest easy. After that I felt better and entered more cheerfully into
the foul play.

"'Andy,' says I, as we strayed through the smoke along the cinderpath
they call Smithfield street, 'had you figured out how we are going to
get acquainted with these coke kings and pig iron squeezers? Not that
I would decry my own worth or system of drawing room deportment, and