I entered the depot and sank wearily into a seat. I felt pretty well and had a clear conscience. Had I not honorably paid my way from Cleveland to Cincinnati instead of trespassing on the property of a mighty railroad company? I found a place to sit down, dropped my head forward and was soon fast asleep. But the sleep was of short duration for in a few minutes I was rudely awakened by the depot policeman. "Where are you going?" he said. "Nowhere," I answered. "I have no money." "Well, what are you doing here?" "Can't you see? I am trying to sleep?" "Have you a railroad ticket?" "No." "Well, you can't stay here." "Have they a Free Municipal Emergency Home in this city?" "No." "Where would you have me go?" "Some other place." Knowing too well the result to the homeless, destitute wage-earner of disobedience to the scion of the law, I quickly left. To be absolutely alone on the streets of a great, strange city at midnight, penniless, without a friend or acquaintance, was nothing to me, a strong, well man. But to the homeless woman or girl, or the frail sick man or boy, my homelessness held a great meaning. Going a short way up the street, I saw a man standing on a corner, and from his dejected mien, I knew that he, like myself, was a down-and-out. "Hello," I said. "Hello," he answered. "Where can a fellow that's broke find a 'flop?'" "Explore me!" "They have just driven me out of the Big Four." "They have just kicked me out of the L. & N. I am going to Fountain Square. It is now one o'clock. There is a train that leaves at two-thirty from the L. & N. People are already going to the station. You can probably stay there unnoticed until the train leaves. I can't go back for they would know me, but keep your eyes open for bulls." And with this advice he pointed out the way. I went, and unnoticed I slept an hour sitting on a station seat. When the train left, I was the only remaining individual in the waiting-room and, of course, very conspicuous. The hint of the law for decency and order at that station, came to me with the question, "Why didn't you take that train?" "I did not want it." "What are you doing here?" "I have no other shelter." With the deep, low-bred voice of an unfeeling brute, he emphatically said, "Beat it." I, too, must now find Fountain Square. A switchman kindly pointed out the direction. As I walked up the street, I raised my eyes to see if the day was breaking, but I might have known better. Automobiles and hacks containing only men came down the street and stopped before the large, red-curtained houses, and from the sound of revelry, of jest, laughter and music, I realized that I was in the redlight district. A black slave standing in a dimly lighted entrance to a passage between two houses, said, "Hello, Honey, buy me a drink." "Why, girl, I could not buy a postage stamp that was canceled." "Why, what's the matter?" "I'm broke. I haven't even a place to sleep tonight." "Come here."