Of the imminence of the danger he was perfectly aware. He had known from the first that Mr. Parker's concluding words were not an empty threat. His experience as a reporter had given him the knowledge that is only given in its entirety to police and newspaper men: that there are two New Yorks--one, a modern, well-policed city, through which one may walk from end to end without encountering adventure; the other, a city as full of sinister intrigue, of whisperings and conspiracies, of battle, murder, and sudden death in dark byways, as any town of mediaeval Italy. Given certain conditions, anything may happen in New York. And Smith realized that these conditions now prevailed in his own case. He had come into conflict with New York's underworld. Circumstances had placed him below the surface, where only his wits could help him. He would have been prepared to see the thing through by himself, but there was no doubt that John as an ally would be a distinct comfort. Nevertheless, he felt compelled to give his friend a last chance of withdrawing. "You know," he said, "there is really no reason why you should--" "But I'm going to," interrupted John. "That's all there is to it. What's going to happen, anyway? I don't know anything about these gangs. I thought they spent all their time shooting each other up." "Not all, unfortunately, Comrade John. They are always charmed to take on a small job like this on the side." "And what does it come to? Do we have an entire gang camping on our trail in a solid mass, or only one or two toughs?" "Merely a section, I should imagine. Comrade Parker would go to the main boss of the gang--Bat Jarvis, if it was the Groome Street gang, or Spider Reilly and Dude Dawson if he wanted the Three Points or the Table Hill lot. The boss would chat over the matter with his own special partners, and they would fix it up among themselves. The rest of the gang would probably know nothing about it. The fewer in the game, you see, the fewer to divide the Parker dollars. So what we have to do is to keep a lookout for a dozen or so aristocrats of that dignified deportment which comes from constant association with the main boss, and, if we can elude these, all will be well." * * * * * It was by Smith's suggestion that the editorial staff of _Peaceful Moments_ dined that night at the Astor roof-garden.