I occasionally visited the scene of my fairie apprenticeship on Mulberry Street. But a resident adolescent once remarked with much truth: "You come around here looking like a tramp, but we have seen you up on Fifth Avenue with fine clothes on. You look as though you didn't have a cent, but your shoes are full of money." For success with this class, it is almost necessary that an invert be looked upon as belonging to the same social stratum.
On one occasion I was turned over to a policeman by a blackmailer, but the former refused to arrest me, although he believed the accusations. On another evening when I had not come to the city for a female-impersonation spree, but nevertheless took a walk on the Bowery, I scraped acquaintance with a high-class adolescent from the country who was stranded in the city. We walked down a side street until we came to a deserted block, and entered the pitch-dark portal of a closed factory. But a huckster on the nearest corner happened to notice us skulk into the portal, and supposing we were thieves, notified the first policeman who passed, who sought another policeman that they might together investigate. The two suddenly confronted us. I was horror-struck, as it was the worst possible time for me to be arrested since I had on me marks of my identity. They searched us and then made a correct guess. One said with reference to me: "This fellow is a . We won't touch him because he can't help it, but we'll give this other fellow a good clubbing." They made us depart in opposite directions, clubbing my companion a little.
