The Apaches of New York

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Lewis Alfred Henry. The Apaches of New York

TO ARTHUR WEST LITTLE

I. – EAT-’EM-UP JACK

II. – THE BABY’S FINGERS

III. – HOW PIOGGI WENT TO ELMIRA

IV. – IKE THE BLOOD

V. – INDIAN LOUIE

VI. – HOW JACKEEN SLEW THE DOC

VII. – LEONI THE TROUBLE MAKER

VIII. THE WAGES OF THE SNITCH

IX. – LITTLE BOW KUM

X. – THE COOKING OF CRAZY BUTCH

XI. – BIG MIKE ABRAMS

XII. – THE GOING OF BIFF ELLISON

Отрывок из книги

Chick Tricker kept a house of call at One Hundred and Twenty-eight Park Row. There he sold strong drink, wine and beer, mostly beer, and the thirsty sat about at sloppy tables and enjoyed themselves. When night came there was music, and those who would – and could – arose and danced. One Hundred and Twenty-eight Park Row was in recent weeks abolished. The Committee of Fourteen, one of those restless moral influences so common in New York, complained to the Powers of Excise and had the license revoked.

It was a mild February evening. The day shift had gone off watch at One Hundred and Twenty-eight, leaving the night shift in charge, and – all things running smoothly – Tricker decided upon an evening out. It might have been ten o’clock when, in deference to that decision, he stepped into the street. It was commencing to snow – flakes as big and soft and clinging as a baby’s hand. Not that Tricker – hardy soul – much minded snow.

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Gatts is East Sidese for pistols.

Harrington didn’t like the looks of things. He was sorry, he said, addressing Eat-’Em-Up-Jack, but he wouldn’t be able to accompany him to that Third Avenue tryst. He must see Goldie Cora home. The Police had just issued an order, calculated invidiously to inconvenience and annoy every lady found in the streets after midnight unaccompanied by an escort.

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