"It's—it's mighty good of you," Don stammered, "taking your time and"
"Not at all. I've nothing else to do just now."
"What do you do— generally."
"When I have an engagement, I act."
"On the stage?"
Tower smiled. "Up—at the back of the stage, principally. Yes. . . . How do you like 'boosting'?"
"I don't know yet."
"Well"—Tower cleared his throat—"it can't do you any hurt. This sort of thing—seeing the Bowery—puts you wise to a lot of life. It gives you the underside of a good deal. I'd stick at it for a while if I were you. When the theatres open, you can get some 'suping.'"
"What's that?"
"I'll show you, some day."
The barker greeted them afresh: "All free, gents. All free on the inside. Step right in. It costs you nothin'. All free."
Tower stopped. "Is it a free lunch or a public library?"
The barker waved his hand genially. "Neither, my Christian friend. Neither ner both. If yuh're an eats-'em-alive, yuh'll find yer cage down the street. This is the on'y original 'Palace of Illusions,' the famous Bowery musee. Step right inside, an' keep yer mouth shut an' yer eyes open. Free performance, gents."
"Come on," Tower said. "Let's see what they give for nothing."
