murders, of course, and things of that kind."

There was a moment's silence, then the man laughed as though slightly
ill at ease.

"These fellows out here think they are a pretty tough lot," he said
grimly, "but there are plenty of boys back on the East Side who could
show them a few tricks. You know that part of the old town?"

"Not very well," she admitted with apparent regret, "but of course I
read a good bit about it in the papers--the desperate characters,
gunmen, and all those the police have so much trouble with. Are those
stories really true?"

"There ain't a third of them ever told," and he leaned forward, quite
at his ease again. "I have some business interests down that way, and
so hear a good deal of what is going on at first hand. A New York
gunman is so much worse than these amateurs out here there ain't no
comparison. Why, I know a case----"

He stopped suddenly and took a sip of coffee.

"Tell me about it."

"'Tisn't anything to interest you, and, besides, it wouldn't sound well
here at the table; some other time, maybe, when you and I get better
acquainted. What ever brought a girl like you down in here?"

She smiled.