"Max is getting his map greased," the pop-eyed youth explained.
Taking a pasteboard box from his pocket, he removed a heroin
tablet therefrom and crushed it; the powder he held in the
indentation between the base of his closed thumb and first finger,
known as "the thimble"; then, with a quick inhalation, he drew the
drug up his nostrils. "Have an angel?" he inquired, offering the
box.

Jim accepted, but Young Sullivan declined.

"What's the news?" the latter inquired.

"I've seen Goldy," replied Jim. "Mother and I will call on Merkle
at three. I finally got her to consent."

Sullivan shook his head. "He MIGHT fall, but I doubt it. How does
your sister feel?"

"That's the trouble. She's square, and we can't use her," Jim
explained.

"Some doll!" admiringly commented Armistead, the third member of
the group. Armistead had once been famed in vaudeville for
dancing, but the drug habit had destroyed his endurance, and with
it his career. "She's a perfect thirty-six, all right. She could
rip a lot of coin loose if she tried."

At this moment Mr. Melcher, freshly perfumed and talcumed, entered
the room. His white hair was arranged with scrupulous nicety; his