head expense so light—he was his own cook and he personally served his customers over the counter—that he had saved a sufficient sum of money to invest in real-estate, an investment which increased in value over-night. Next, with the proceeds of a few judicious sales, he openeda cabaret which shortly became the favourite resort in Harlem. Now, his Bolito game had made him so rich that his powerfully exerted influence began to be felt in political circles.
Unreasoningly, Anatole hated him. He had—never inimically crossed the Creeper's path, but somehow, subconsciously, Anatole was aware that such an eventuality was by no means impossible. Besides, it irked the Creeper to realize that any one else possessed power of whatever kind. The feeling was not reciprocated. Anatole was frequently a spectacular figure at the Winter Palace, Pettijohn's cabaret, where he was welcome because he was known to be a particular favourite with jig-chasers from below the line.
ow you been, 'Toly? The Bolito King greeted the Creeper warmly, even affectionately.
Hello, Ran.
Lookin' 'em over?
Ah'm takin' 'em in. The Creeper was reticent.
You sartainly are one dressin' up fool, Creeper, one of the King's companions inserted.
Heavy lover, too, another added.
The King offered his accolade: Nobody like
