The Owosso times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1897-1926, 1909-11-12
CHAPTER l.


IL since begun their weary tramp
home through the darkness in
~ the crowded tenement district
of which Market street is the longest
ed center, the most densely populated
thoroughfare of New York. The
streets were still empty in comparison
with what they should be few hours
later, but quiet-never.
At no hour of the day or night is
that quarter Of the city without its
noises. They succeed each other in
regular. daily repeated order. One
can tell by them each hour of the
twenty-four. And as the street has
its noises, so has each house.
An alarm clock ratified in large
room in one of the towering tene-
ments, built of brick, without orna-
mentation, made hideous by row upon
row Of narrow windows.
A young woman seated at table in
corner of squalid room had not
looked up or stopped for moment in
her occupation of gliding plaster fig
ures with brush which she dipped
from time to time in pan. A lamp,
shaded so as to throw all the light 1t
gave directly upon her work, stood be-
side her. The rest of the room was
dark.
A mans sleepy. quarrelsome voice
came from somewhere beyond the
room.
what time is it, jenny"
After Z. You'd better get up"
The girl was strikingly handsome
in buxom, sensuous way, but the
droop of resignation Of her mouth
struggled with the line Of revolt that
met it from the delicate nostrils down
ward. Her eyes shone dark under the
arched eyebrows. In them there were
unrest and knowledge of good and
evil. vague wonder and a look of
hunger of mind and heart.
The room as she turned around to
survey it was seen to contain two
iron bedsteads. in one of which there
were q man and two children, while
the other contained a younger man.
Both beds were tousled and untidy.
The young mans clothes had been
thrown in heap on the foot of his.
The elder mans lay partly on a chair,
partly on the floor beside it.
Moran, Jenny's father, sat up in bed.
Jenny returned to her work, sitting
down with her back toward the beds.
Cant sleep with that kid cough
ing and kicking" grumbled Moran.
Didn't sleep wink"
He slid his feet on to the floor, drew
on his shoes, hitched up the trousers
in which he had slept, crossed over to
the sink and washed his face and
hands. Then he turned to bare table,
which, with three cheap. rickety
chairs, completed the furniture.
He cut off hunk of bread and ate,
grumbling the while, his watery eyes
wandering along the wall, staring I'M
seeingly at the cheap color prints Of
the rulers of Europe that formed its
incongruous ornament.
A large picture of young man in
ulNluB COStuIue, NerlldDle herculeS,
his heavy helmet resting on his arm,
occupied place of honor all by itself
on another wall.
Moran had q weak, discouraged face,
with anonymously scowling eyes.
The younger man had propped him
self up in bed, lighted a candle and
was now reading q paper. He was
Joe Caffrey. the widower Of Jenny's
elder sister, who had died three weeks
before. Now, like the two children,
he was q "boarder" of Jenny's.
"Hellow said Joe, looking up from
his paper Here's a description of
John J. Haggleton's private yacht. He
sails today on a cruise"
"Haggletonw growled Moran. That's
our landlord. I'd like to have him
herep'
Joe Caffrey kept on reading.
"Oh, say. listen to this" he exclaim-
ed: "The walls are paneled in satin
wood; under foot are velvet carpets
twelve feet wide. and
Moran jumped up in a rage.
I'D millionaire" he shouted.
1t was broad daylight now. Jenny
sxtinguished the lamp; Joe blew out