"Count me in for fifteen thousand," he said without hesitation. We talked it over. Plans for going down to the Bowery and handing it out didn't seem so good. The streets were still impossible, and I didn't want to leave Jane for long. We finally decided to give it to the nearest church. They'd see it got into the proper hands. The church on 65th and Madison was closest, so we went right there and formed on the end of the line. It stretched halfway down the block, but it was moving fast. "I had no idea it was like this," Ollie said. He shook his head. Perspiration was dripping from him. He was working harder handing out money than he had ever worked to make it in his life. "What kind of church is this?" he asked me. "I don't know." I tapped the man in front of me. "What kind of church is this, mac?" The man turned around. He was almost as big as Ollie but older, tireder looking. "How should I know?" he said. "I'm from Brooklyn." We reached the inside of the church and a man took our money. He didn't have time to thank us; there were too many behind, clamoring for their chance. The man just threw the bills on a table. Another man, a Reverend of some kind, was walking back and forth, picking up handfuls of it and carrying it off, then coming back for more. We followed him, just out of curiosity. I didn't have any doubt they'd dispose of it in the right way, but a fellow likes to know where his charity is going. Besides, Jane would probably ask me. At the side entrance of the church there was a line of poorly clad, red-faced men. Their clothes were in tatters, but their faces were shining. The Reverend was handing each man a handful of bills, then rushing back for more. "Be simpler if they formed the line inside," I said to Ollie as we headed back for our stores. "Just have the guys with money lined up in front of the guys without. Faster." "Listen," Ollie said. "You always have a middle man. Can't avoid it." He coughed three or four times. I could see that the strain was getting him. A man Ollie's size shouldn't run around handing out money that way. On my way back to the store someone handed me five thousand dollars. He just grinned, shoved it in my hands and hurried on. I did a double take. It was one of the bums who had just got it. Back in the store there was more money piled up on the counter. My wife was still in the same chair, reading a magazine. "It's been piling up since you left," she said. I threw my five thousand on the pile. "You should have heard the radio," she said. "Congress passed about two dozen laws in the last hour. They've given everybody every right you could think of, and a few I never dreamed existed." "It's the age of the common man," I told her. * * * * *