One interesting fact which developed in connection with the investigation of these conditions was the attempt on the part of the keepers of these places to bulldoze and browbeat the committee out of their work. The writer received a warning from the keeper of one of these dives that unless his activities ceased personal injury would be visited upon him. Another man, who kept a business which was patronized by many of these divekeepers, lost all of that business on account of his connection with the Law and Order League. Another man, who kept a store, was forced to give up active work for the League because he could not afford the loss which threatened him if he continued. Others, who were weaker or who could not stand the financial loss which activity in the work of the League entailed upon them, began to hedge and criticise and finally openly assail the League as a movement which was seriously affecting the business interests of the colored people. It was found that these saloons were meeting places of the idle, loafing element among the colored people, of the crap shooters, of dissolute women, and many of the saloonkeepers did not hesitate to sell liquors to women and children. One of the discoveries in this lower Druid Hill Avenue district was that in the small streets, which were practically alleys, there were three of these saloons—two in one alley, and one at the intersection of two other alleys. The saloon which is kept by a white man for colored trade is usually the lowest possible type of saloon. The cheapest grades of liquors are dispensed. Many of them have back entrances and depend upon their Sunday trade for a large part of their revenue. The writer has frequently seen a string of Sunday drinkers filing through the back gates into some of these saloons. Other members of the League had also seen these Sunday violations of the law, and there were many outsiders, particularly women, who were the wives and mothers of men and boys whose earnings went largely to the saloonkeepers instead of to the support of their families, who were ready to testify that for many of the saloons Sunday was the busiest day. On one occasion a colored man interested in assisting the committee bought a pint of whisky from one of these saloons, and then telephoned the police that this saloonkeeper was selling liquor on Sunday. A raiding party was immediately sent out from the station house, and when the place was reached everything was as quiet as the most exact observance of Sunday closing law would seem to require. It was evident that in some mysterious way the proprietor had received a tip that the raiding party was coming. And so it happened with nearly every attempt at raiding for Sunday selling. The places would be found either absolutely empty and quiet or those in the places would swear that they were mere visitors. It was rather openly asserted about at least one saloon that there was a secret door from it into the adjoining house.