Part 21 (1/2)

Mr. Walker Boggs soon came into the wine-room and joined the pair at Mr.

Weil's table. He called for a whiskey straight, pus.h.i.+ng the champagne aside with an impatient movement.

”I won't punish my stomach with such stuff, even if it _has_ gone back on me,” he exclaimed. ”That will knock out any man who drinks it between meals.”

Mr. Weil a.s.sented to this proposition, and to show his full belief in it filled his own gla.s.s again and tossed its contents down his throat.

”What brings you here?” he asked, quizzically.

”Those creatures,” replied Boggs, with a motion of his hand toward the members of the ballet. ”They're all that's left me now. _They_ don't mind the size of my waist. My hold on _them_ is as strong as ever. But _you_ ought not to be here,” he broke in, turning to Roseleaf. ”It will be years before you get to this stage, I hope.”

Mr. Weil hastened to explain.

”s.h.i.+rley is merely observing,” said he. ”He came at my request. We are going next to Isaac Leveson's.”

Mr. Boggs grew interested.

”So, so! You intend to show him Isaac's to-night?”

”Yes. Isn't it a good idea?”

The stout man shrugged his shoulders as if he had nothing to say on that point. The movement was essentially a Frenchy one and might have meant anything.

”Perhaps you would like to go with us,” said Archie.

”What do you intend to do there?”

”Tell Mr. Roseleaf all the secrets.”

Mr. Boggs stared at the speaker.

”Isaac won't let you,” he answered, grimly.

”Won't he? He'll have to. Why, what's the odds? The boy won't give him away. And if he should--” His voice sank to a whisper.

Mr. Weil then proceeded to explain to his young friend that ”Isaac's”

was a peculiar affair, even for Gotham. It had entrances on two streets.

Into one door went the most respectable of people, intent on getting an exceptionably good dinner, which was always to be had there, cooked in the French style and elegantly served. At that end of the house there were several dining-rooms that would hold forty or fifty guests, and several others made to accommodate family parties of six to twelve. If a couple happened to stray in and inquire for a room to themselves the head waiter informed them that it was against the rule of the house to serve a private dinner to less than four people.

It was evident that the establishment was conducted on the most moral principles, and in a way to prevent the possibility of scandal. For though a great many couples undoubtedly take dinners in private rooms with the utmost propriety, it must be admitted that such a course is open to suspicion and might be used as a basis for unpleasant rumors.

Mr. Leveson, who kept this hotel, took great pride in saying that nothing in all New York bore a better name, and no amount of bribery would have induced one of his employes--on _that_ side of the house--to vary the rules laid down.

But on the _other_ side of the building--at the entrance on the other street--ah, that was different!

If only the most respectable customers entered the first door it was almost equally true that none but those who lacked that quality used the second. Mr. Leveson sometimes remarked with glee, at twelve o'clock at night, that he would give a hundred dollar bill for an honest man or woman in any of the rooms up-stairs. The waiters had instructions to ”size up” all comers with care, and to admit no accidental parties who might apply for entrance under a misapprehension as to the character of the place.

”We are all full, sorry to say,” was the established formula. ”There is a very good restaurant just around the corner, on ----th street.” And in this manner the shrewd restaurateur got all the custom he wanted, while preserving the natural atmosphere in each part of his dominions.

The meals served in these two places were prepared by one chef, and served from one kitchen. Thus the virtuous and vicious patrons were supplied with exactly the same dishes. But on what may be called the Good side nothing stronger than wines were found on the bill of fare. On the Wicked side every decoction known to the modern drinker was to be had for the asking. Then, again, the doors of the Good side were closed at eleven o'clock, while it was often daylight before the last patron of the Sinful side reeled into his carriage.