Joe knew what she meant, but he wasn’t going to let anything on to a girl. “Aah! you’re a bit too big for your shoes,” he said loftily. It made no impression on her. “I like the streets,” she said dreamily. “I wisht I could roam the streets with a gang of kids. That’s what I’d like.” “You don’t know when you’re well off,” said Joe. “Where you been to-night?” asked Jewel. “To the Bowery Mission,” said Joe derisively. “Yeah,” said Jewel. “You look it!” Joe laughed, and felt more at his ease. After all, there was something about Jewel. . . . She didn’t talk with a sponge in her mouth like other girls. She gave it to you straight. “I had a steak at Dolan’s,” he said offhand. “Yes, you did!” said Jewel. “Where’d you git the price?” “Oh, I hooked a coupla cat-skins offen a pushcart.” “Were you chased?” asked Jewel eagerly. “Nah! What d’ye think I am?” Jewel paid no attention to the question. Her thoughts pursued their own course. “Come on up,” she said in friendly fashion. Joe went hot and cold. At first he didn’t know what to say. “I got a pack of cigarettes in my room,” the girl went on; “we’ll smoke and chin. I’ll mend your coat for you.” “Clara’d give me hell if she come home,” said Joe. He heard the little quaver in his own voice and it made him sore. A hard nut like him! “Oh, Clara wouldn’t mind you,” said Jewel, coolly. This stung. “You often been in before,” said Jewel. This was true, and why shouldn’t he go now? But something inside him trembled. “Come on,” Jewel went on; “I’ll show you all my things. I got real nice things of my own. I keep ’em locked in my drawer. I’d like to show ’em to somebody. I got a big doll that I dressed myself. She looks real cunning. I got a set of dishes from Chinatown. I got a solid silver photograph frame. . . .” “Who’s in it?” asked Joe with a curling lip. “President Cleveland,” said Jewel undisturbed. “Come on up. We’ll talk. You could come often. I’d like to have somebody come to see me, that belonged to me like. . . .” Joe felt that he must play the man. “Nottin’ doin’ to-night, girly,” he said, as he had heard men say along Allen street. Jewel looked at him with her big, calm eyes. Then she laughed. She planted her hands on her hips, and opened her mouth wide to let it come out. “Aah!” snarled Joe. “Aah . . . !” Her laughter stung him like whips. If she had said anything, he could have got back at her, but she laughed what was in her mind, and there was no answer to that. She wasn’t just trying to get back at him; she really thought he was as funny as hell. “Aah!” snarled Joe, “I’m not afraid of you!” She laughed afresh, and by that he knew that she knew that he _was_ afraid of her. “Aah! to hell with you!” snarled Joe, grinding his teeth. He walked off followed by the sound of her laughter. * * * * *