CHAPTER XI

I AM INTRODUCED TO THE DIVES OF BARBARY COAST


Sister Kauffman was well acquainted with the dives of Barbary Coast,
she having occasionally to seek some one inquired for, or perhaps a
lost member of the family returned to former haunts of sin. The next
time she had occasion to go, I requested that I might accompany her.
She very gladly consented.

At nine o'clock that night we were in a horrible neighborhood. I had a
tight grip on her arm, and no wonder, for we were now where every vice
and crime were common and reigned supreme.

Plainly do I still see the first place we entered. It was called "The
Klondyke." "Come, sister, don't be afraid: God is watching over us,"
whispered Sister Kauffman as she walked me through a screen door and
into that gaudy, low barroom, where were congregated a most deplorable
mixture of degraded men and youth in various stages of inebriety. The
place reeked with the vile odors of whiskey, beer, tobacco,
uncleanliness of body, etc., so that my stomach revolted, and I felt as
if I should be compelled to return to the fresh air; but Sister
Kauffman, who had obtained permission from the proprietor (tending
bar), took me through another doorway, which led into a dance-hall.
Positively I was as though rooted to the spot, and I said to myself,
"This is even worse than anything of which I read or hear." I do not