VIII

On the day following our night at the "Club" we slept until late in

the afternoon; so late that beginning search for work was entirely out

of the question. This did not cause me much worry, for I had more than

three hundred dollars, and New York had impressed me as a place where

there was lots of money and not much difficulty in getting it. It is

needless to inform my readers that I did not long hold this opinion.

We got out of the house about dark, went to a restaurant on Sixth

Avenue and ate something, then walked around for a couple of hours.

I finally suggested that we visit the same places we had been in

the night before. Following my suggestion, we started first to the

gambling house. The man on the door let us in without any question; I

accredited this to my success of the night before. We went straight

to the "crap" room, and I at once made my way to a table, where I was

rather flattered by the murmur of recognition which went around. I

played in up and down luck for three or four hours; then, worn with

nervous excitement, quit, having lost about fifty dollars. But I was

so strongly possessed with the thought that I would make up my losses

the next time I played that I left the place with a light heart.

When we got into the street our party was divided against itself; two

were for going home at once and getting to bed. They gave as a reason

that we were to get up early and look for jobs. I think the real

reason was that they had each lost several dollars in the game. I

lived to learn that in the world of sport all men win alike, but lose

differently; and so gamblers are rated, not by the way in which they

win, but by the way in which they lose. Some men lose with a careless

smile, recognizing that losing is a part of the game; others curse

their luck and rail at fortune; and others, still, lose sadly; after

each such experience they are swept by a wave of reform; they resolve

to stop gambling and be good. When in this frame of mind it would take

very little persuasion to lead them into a prayer-meeting. Those in

the first class are looked upon with admiration; those in the second

class are merely commonplace; while those in the third are regarded

with contempt. I believe these distinctions hold good in all the

ventures of life. After some minutes one of my friends and I succeeded

in convincing the other two that a while at the "Club" would put us

all in better spirits; and they consented to go, on our promise not

to stay longer than an hour. We found the place crowded, and the same

sort of thing going on which we had seen the night before. I took a

seat at once by the side of the piano player, and was soon lost

to everything except the novel charm of the music. I watched the

performer with the idea of catching the trick, and during one of his

intermissions I took his place at the piano and made an attempt to

imitate him, but even my quick ear and ready fingers were unequal to

the task on first trial.

We did not stay at the "Club" very long, but went home to bed in order

to be up early the next day. We had no difficulty in finding work, and

my third morning in New York found me at a table rolling cigars. I

worked steadily for some weeks, at the same time spending my earnings

between the "crap" game and the "Club." Making cigars became more and

more irksome to me; perhaps my more congenial work as a "reader" had

unfitted me for work at the table. And, too, the late hours I was

keeping made such a sedentary occupation almost beyond the powers of

will and endurance. I often found it hard to keep my eyes open and

sometimes had to get up and move around to keep from falling asleep.

I began to miss whole days from the factory, days on which I was

compelled to stay at home and sleep.

My luck at the gambling table was varied; sometimes I was fifty to a

hundred dollars ahead, and at other times I had to borrow money from

my fellow workmen to settle my room rent and pay for my meals. Each

night after leaving the dice game I went to the "Club" to hear the

music and watch the gaiety. If I had won, this was in accord with my

mood; if I had lost, it made me forget. I at last realized that making

cigars for a living and gambling for a living could not both be

carried on at the same time, and I resolved to give up the cigar

making. This resolution led me into a life which held me bound more

than a year. During that period my regular time for going to bed was

somewhere between four and six o'clock in the mornings. I got up late

in the afternoons, walked about a little, then went to the gambling

house or the "Club." My New York was limited to ten blocks; the

boundaries were Sixth Avenue from Twenty-third to Thirty-third

Streets, with the cross streets one block to the west. Central Park

was a distant forest, and the lower part of the city a foreign land.

I look back upon the life I then led with a shudder when I think what

would have been had I not escaped it. But had I not escaped it, I

should have been no more unfortunate than are many young colored men

who come to New York. During that dark period I became acquainted with

a score of bright, intelligent young fellows who had come up to the

great city with high hopes and ambitions and who had fallen under the

spell of this under life, a spell they could not throw off. There

was one popularly known as "the doctor"; he had had two years in the

Harvard Medical School, but here he was, living this gas-light life,

his will and moral sense so enervated and deadened that it was

impossible for him to break away. I do not doubt that the same thing

is going on now, but I have sympathy rather than censure for these

victims, for I know how easy it is to slip into a slough from which it

takes a herculean effort to leap.

I regret that I cannot contrast my views of life among colored people

of New York; but the truth is, during my entire stay in this city I

did not become acquainted with a single respectable family. I knew

that there were several colored men worth a hundred or so thousand

dollars each, and some families who proudly dated their free ancestry

back a half-dozen generations. I also learned that in Brooklyn there

lived quite a large colony in comfortable homes which they owned; but

at no point did my life come in contact with theirs.

In my gambling experiences I passed through all the states and

conditions that a gambler is heir to. Some days found me able to peel

ten and twenty-dollar bills from a roll, and others found me clad in a

linen duster and carpet slippers. I finally caught up another method

of earning money, and so did not have to depend entirely upon the

caprices of fortune at the gaming table. Through continually listening

to the music at the "Club," and through my own previous training, my

natural talent and perseverance, I developed into a remarkable player

of ragtime; indeed, I had the name at that time of being the best

ragtime-player in New York. I brought all my knowledge of classic

music to bear and, in so doing, achieved some novelties which pleased

and even astonished my listeners. It was I who first made ragtime

transcriptions of familiar classic selections. I used to play

Mendelssohn's "Wedding March" in a manner that never failed to arouse

enthusiasm among the patrons of the "Club." Very few nights passed

during which I was not asked to play it. It was no secret that

the great increase in slumming visitors was due to my playing. By

mastering ragtime I gained several things: first of all, I gained

the title of professor. I was known as "the professor" as long as I

remained in that world. Then, too, I gained the means of earning a

rather fair livelihood. This work took up much of my time and kept me

almost entirely away from the gambling table. Through it I also gained

a friend who was the means by which I escaped from this lower world.

And, finally, I secured a wedge which has opened to me more doors and

made me a welcome guest than my playing of Beethoven and Chopin could

ever have done.

The greater part of the money I now began to earn came through the

friend to whom I alluded in the foregoing paragraph. Among the other

white "slummers" there came into the "Club" one night a clean-cut,

slender, but athletic-looking man, who would have been taken for a

youth had it not been for the tinge of gray about his temples. He was

clean-shaven and had regular features, and all of his movements bore

the indefinable but unmistakable stamp of culture. He spoke to no one,

but sat languidly puffing cigarettes and sipping a glass of beer. He

was the center of a great deal of attention; all of the old-timers

were wondering who he was. When I had finished playing, he called a

waiter and by him sent me a five-dollar bill. For about a month after

that he was at the "Club" one or two nights each week, and each time

after I had played, he gave me five dollars. One night he sent for me

to come to his table; he asked me several questions about myself; then

told me that he had an engagement which he wanted me to fill. He gave

me a card containing his address and asked me to be there on a certain

night.

I was on hand promptly and found that he was giving a dinner in his

own apartments to a party of ladies and gentlemen and that I was

expected to furnish the musical entertainment. When the grave,

dignified man at the door let me in, the place struck me as being

almost dark, my eyes had been so accustomed to the garish light of the

"Club." He took my coat and hat, bade me take a seat, and went to tell

his master that I had come. When my eyes were adjusted to the soft

light, I saw that I was in the midst of elegance and luxury in a

degree such as I had never seen; but not the elegance which makes

one ill at ease. As I sank into a great chair, the subdued tone, the

delicately sensuous harmony of my surroundings, drew from me a deep

sigh of relief and comfort. How long the man was gone I do not know,

but I was startled by a voice saying: "Come this way, if you please,

sir," and I saw him standing by my chair. I had been asleep; and I

awoke very much confused and a little ashamed, because I did not know

how many times he may have called me. I followed him through into the

dining-room, where the butler was putting the finishing touches to a

table which already looked like a big jewel. The doorman turned me

over to the butler, and I passed with the butler on back to where

several waiters were busy polishing and assorting table utensils.

Without being asked whether I was hungry or not, I was placed at a

table and given something to eat. Before I had finished eating, I

heard the laughter and talk of the guests who were arriving. Soon

afterwards I was called in to begin my work.

I passed in to where the company was gathered and went directly to the

piano. According to a suggestion from the host, I began with

classic music. During the first number there was absolute quiet and

appreciative attention, and when I had finished, I was given a round

of generous applause. After that the talk and the laughter began to

grow until the music was only an accompaniment to the chatter. This,

however, did not disconcert me as it once would have done, for I had

become accustomed to playing in the midst of uproarious noise. As the

guests began to pay less attention to me, I was enabled to pay more to

them. There were about a dozen of them. The men ranged in appearance

from a girlish-looking youth to a big grizzled man whom everybody

addressed as "Judge." None of the women appeared to be under thirty,

but each of them struck me as being handsome. I was not long in

finding out that they were all decidedly blasé. Several of the women

smoked cigarettes, and with a careless grace which showed they were

used to the habit. Occasionally a "Damn it!" escaped from the lips

of some one of them, but in such a charming way as to rob it of all

vulgarity. The most notable thing which I observed was that the

reserve of the host increased in direct proportion with the hilarity

of his guests. I thought that there was something going wrong which

displeased him. I afterwards learned that it was his habitual manner

on such occasions. He seemed to take cynical delight in watching

and studying others indulging in excess. His guests were evidently

accustomed to his rather non-participating attitude, for it did not

seem in any degree to dampen their spirits.

When dinner was served, the piano was moved and the door left open, so

that the company might hear the music while eating. At a word from the

host I struck up one of my liveliest ragtime pieces. The effect was

surprising, perhaps even to the host; the ragtime music came very near

spoiling the party so far as eating the dinner was concerned. As soon

as I began, the conversation suddenly stopped. It was a pleasure to me

to watch the expression of astonishment and delight that grew on the

faces of everybody. These were people--and they represented a large

class--who were ever expecting to find happiness in novelty, each day

restlessly exploring and exhausting every resource of this great city

that might possibly furnish a new sensation or awaken a fresh emotion,

and who were always grateful to anyone who aided them in their quest.

Several of the women left the table and gathered about the piano. They

watched my fingers and asked what kind of music it was that I was

playing, where I had learned it, and a host of other questions. It

was only by being repeatedly called back to the table that they were

induced to finish their dinner. When the guests arose, I struck up my

ragtime transcription of Mendelssohn's "Wedding March," playing

it with terrific chromatic octave runs in the bass. This raised

everybody's spirits to the highest point of gaiety, and the whole

company involuntarily and unconsciously did an impromptu cake-walk.

From that time on until the time of leaving they kept me so busy that

my arms ached. I obtained a little respite when the girlish-looking

youth and one or two of the ladies sang several songs, but after each

of these it was "back to ragtime."

In leaving, the guests were enthusiastic in telling the host that

he had furnished them the most unusual entertainment they had ever

enjoyed. When they had gone, my millionaire friend--for he was

reported to be a millionaire--said to me with a smile: "Well, I have

given them something they've never had before." After I had put on my

coat and was ready to leave, he made me take a glass of wine; he then

gave me a cigar and twenty dollars in bills. He told me that he would

give me lots of work, his only stipulation being that I should not

play any engagements such as I had just filled for him, except by his

instructions. I readily accepted the proposition, for I was sure that

I could not be the loser by such a contract. I afterwards played for

him at many dinners and parties of one kind or another. Occasionally

he "loaned" me to some of his friends. And, too, I often played for

him alone at his apartments. At such times he was quite a puzzle to me

until I became accustomed to his manners. He would sometimes sit for

three or four hours hearing me play, his eyes almost closed, making

scarcely a motion except to light a fresh cigarette, and never

commenting one way or another on the music. At first I sometimes

thought he had fallen asleep and would pause in playing. The stopping

of the music always aroused him enough to tell me to play this or

that; and I soon learned that my task was not to be considered

finished until he got up from his chair and said: "That will do."

The man's powers of endurance in listening often exceeded mine in

performing--yet I am not sure that he was always listening. At times

I became so oppressed with fatigue and sleepiness that it took almost

superhuman effort to keep my fingers going; in fact, I believe I

sometimes did so while dozing. During such moments this man sitting

there so mysteriously silent, almost hid in a cloud of heavy-scented

smoke, filled me with a sort of unearthly terror. He seemed to be some

grim, mute, but relentless tyrant, possessing over me a supernatural

power which he used to drive me on mercilessly to exhaustion. But

these feelings came very rarely; besides, he paid me so liberally I

could forget much. There at length grew between us a familiar and warm

relationship, and I am sure he had a decided personal liking for me.

On my part, I looked upon him at that time as about all a man could

wish to be.

The "Club" still remained my headquarters, and when I was not playing

for my good patron, I was generally to be found there. However, I no

longer depended on playing at the "Club" to earn my living; I rather

took rank with the visiting celebrities and, occasionally, after being

sufficiently urged, would favor my old and new admirers with a number

or two. I say, without any egotistic pride, that among my admirers

were several of the best-looking women who frequented the place, and

who made no secret of the fact that they admired me as much as they

did my playing. Among these was the "widow"; indeed, her attentions

became so marked that one of my friends warned me to beware of her

black companion, who was generally known as a "bad man." He said

there was much more reason to be careful because the pair had lately

quarreled and had not been together at the "Club" for some nights.

This warning greatly impressed me and I resolved to stop the affair

before it should go any further; but the woman was so beautiful that

my native gallantry and delicacy would not allow me to repulse her; my

finer feelings entirely overcame my judgment. The warning also opened

my eyes sufficiently to see that though my artistic temperament and

skill made me interesting and attractive to the woman, she was, after

all, using me only to excite the jealousy of her companion and revenge

herself upon him. It was this surly, black despot who held sway over

her deepest emotions.

One night, shortly afterwards, I went into the "Club" and saw the

"widow" sitting at a table in company with another woman. She at once

beckoned for me to come to her. I went, knowing that I was committing

worse than folly. She ordered a quart of champagne and insisted that

I sit down and drink with her. I took a chair on the opposite side of

the table and began to sip a glass of the wine. Suddenly I noticed by

an expression on the "widow's" face that something had occurred.

I instinctively glanced around and saw that her companion had just

entered. His ugly look completely frightened me. My back was turned to

him, but by watching the "widow's" eyes I judged that he was pacing

back and forth across the room. My feelings were far from being

comfortable; I expected every moment to feel a blow on my head. She,

too, was very nervous; she was trying hard to appear unconcerned, but

could not succeed in hiding her real feelings. I decided that it was

best to get out of such a predicament even at the expense of appearing

cowardly, and I made a motion to rise. Just as I partly turned in my

chair, I saw the black fellow approaching; he walked directly to our

table and leaned over. The "widow" evidently feared he was going to

strike her, and she threw back her head. Instead of striking her he

whipped out a revolver and fired; the first shot went straight into

her throat. There were other shots fired, but how many I do not know;

for the first knowledge I had of my surroundings and actions was that

I was rushing through the chop-suey restaurant into the street. Just

which streets I followed when I got outside I do not know, but I think

I must have gone towards Eighth Avenue, then down towards Twenty-third

Street and across towards Fifth Avenue. I traveled, not by sight, but

instinctively. I felt like one fleeing in a horrible nightmare.

How long and far I walked I cannot tell; but on Fifth Avenue, under a

light, I passed a cab containing a solitary occupant, who called to

me, and I recognized the voice and face of my millionaire friend. He

stopped the cab and asked: "What on earth are you doing strolling in

this part of the town?" For answer I got into the cab and related to

him all that had happened. He reassured me by saying that no charge of

any kind could be brought against me; then added: "But of course you

don't want to be mixed up in such an affair." He directed the driver

to turn around and go into the park, and then went on to say: "I

decided last night that I'd go to Europe tomorrow. I think I'll take

you along instead of Walter." Walter was his valet. It was settled

that I should go to his apartments for the rest of the night and sail

with him in the morning.

We drove around through the park, exchanging only an occasional word.

The cool air somewhat calmed my nerves and I lay back and closed my

eyes; but still I could see that beautiful white throat with the ugly

wound. The jet of blood pulsing from it had placed an indelible red

stain on my memory.