"Maybe. Goodbye." * * * * * Frank Brooks walked north on Clark Street. He was glad to get away from the restaurant. Nora was a good kid but hell--you didn't take up with a hooker. A guy played around, but you didn't stick with them. But it made a guy think. He was past the kid stage. It was time for him to find a girl and settle down. A guy didn't want to knock around all his life. * * * * * Nora walked west on Madison Street. Then she remembered the Halstead Street slums were in that direction and turned south on Wells. She had nine dollars in her bag and that worried her. You couldn't get along on nine dollars in Chicago very long. There was a tavern on Jackson near Wells. Nora went inside. The barkeep didn't frown at her. That was good. She went to the bar and ordered a beer and was served. After a while a man came in. A middle aged man who might have just come into Chicago--whose bags might still be at the LaSalle Street Station down the block. The man looked at Nora, then away. After a while looked at her again. Nora smiled.