"Remember what that says, Kid," he urged impressively, and he read once more a saving passage from his well-thumbed "Guide to Polite Behavior." "'If you cannot sing a song or tell a mirth-provoking story at an evening ball or party you may well perform a few tricks in legerdemain. The following are among the simplest and, when deftly performed never fail to provoke loud applause and win you the undying gratitude of your hostess.' Are you a-hearin' me? Well, I've turned down the pages at that one with the coin and the hat, and the one where you must tell the right card by a simple act of mind-readin'. And don't forget what he says here, 'the hand is quicker'n the eye.'" "Yes, Ben; I'm listening." "Well, listen to this here other book. It's more serious." He took up his treasured "Traps and Pitfalls of a Great City," and again became a voice in the wilderness, waving a forefinger to punctuate and warn. "'It is the habit of these gentry to lie in wait for their intended victims when they alight at the principal railway stations, and where, by their plausible and insinuating advances, they ingratiate themselves into the _confidence_ of those whom it is their purpose to fleece; hence the name, "confidence men." Only by constant watchfulness and a thorough knowledge of their methods may the stranger in the great city hope to escape their wiles, since their ways of approach are manifold.' You hear that, Kid--their ways is manifold. Here's a pitcher of one of 'em tacklin' a countryman. See what an oily-lookin' feller he is, stovepipe hat, fancy vest, big watchchain, long coat, striped pants. You'd say he was a bank president. Oh, I bet they're slick ones. They'd have to be to tog out like that every day in the week. Now remember, if one o' them ducks comes up to you and starts to butter you up with fine words and wants to carry your satchel, you just let out a yell for the police and hand him over. That's the way to settle 'em!" "I'll surely remember, Ben." "And there's thugs and footpads. Always keep your coat buttoned over your watch, it says, and if you're goin' along Broadway or Fifth Avenue after dark, get out and walk in the middle o' the street, so's they can't spring around a corner and slug you. And don't talk to strangers, and don't look into store windows ner up at the high buildin's, else they'll spot you fer a greeny and give you the laugh." "I can't believe it yet, Ben." He rose to walk the floor again, his hands sunk deep in his pockets, his head bent low. "And don't git into no card game on the train with a couple o' smooth strangers that ain't ever met each other before and want to pass away the time pleasantly. And don't bet you can open the patent lock after you think you found the secret spring. And don't buy any o' that money you can't tell from real, that was printed from stolen Gov'ment plates."