fair-haired hero. And here's the fare, Harry—the good old railroad fare."
"Heaven be praised," said Howe. "I've finished the job, Bob. Not a trace of this morning's issue left. The fare! North in parlor cars! My tobacco heart sings. Can't you hear the elevated—"
"Music, Harry, music."
"And the newsboys on Park Row—"
"Caruso can't touch them. Where can we find a time-table, I wonder?"
Meanwhile, in a corner of the plaza, Manuel Gonzale spoke sad words in the ear of Martin Wall.
"It's the jinx," moaned Wall with conviction. "The star player in everything I do down here. I'm going to burn the sand hot-footing it away. But whither, Manuel, whither?"
"In Porto Rico," replied Gonzale, "I have not yet plied my trade. I go there."
"Palm Beach," sighed Wall, "has diamonds that can be observed to sparkle as far away as the New York society columns. But alas, I lack the wherewithal to support me in the style to which my victims are accustomed."
