He began peering into places as he walked; he passed
several as being too crowded -- then finally, chancing upon
one where the bartender was all alone, he gripped his hands
in sudden resolution and went in.

"Can you change me a hundred-dollar bill?" he
demanded.

The bartender was a big, husky fellow, with the jaw of
a prize fighter, and a three weeks' stubble of hair upon it.
He stared at Jurgis. "What's that youse say?" he
demanded.

"I said, could you change me a hundred-dollar bill?"

"Where'd youse get it?" he inquired incredulously.

"Never mind," said Jurgis; "I've got it, and I want
it changed. I'll pay you if you'll do it."

The other stared at him hard. "Lemme see it," he
said.

"Will you change it?" Jurgis demanded, gripping it
tightly in his pocket.

"How the hell can I know if it's good or not?" retorted
the bartender. "Whatcha take me for, hey?"

Then Jurgis slowly and warily approached him; he
took out the bill, and fumbled it for a moment, while the
man stared at him with hostile eyes across the counter.
Then finally he handed it over.

The other took it, and began to examine it; he smoothed
it between his fingers, and he held it up to the light; he
turned it over, and upside down, and edgeways. It was
new and rather stiff, and that made him dubious. Jurgis
was watching him like a cat all the time.

"Humph," he said, finally, and gazed at the stranger,
sizing him up -- a ragged, ill-smelling tramp, with no over~
coat and one arm in a sling -- and a hundred-dollar bill!
"Want to buy anything?" he demanded.

"Yes," said Jurgis, "I'll take a glass of beer."

"All right," said the other, "I'll change it." And he
put the bill in his pocket, and poured Jurgis out a glass of
beer, and set it on the counter. Then he turned to the
cash-register, and punched up five cents, and began to
pull money out of the drawer. Finally, he faced Jurgis,

[[293]]

p292 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p293w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p294

v?