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----- {{tjbusp299.jpg}} || The Jungle ||



And so, when he was turned out of prison again, with~
out a penny in his pocket, he went straight to Jack Duane.
He went full of humility and gratitude; for Duane was
a gentleman, and a man with a profession -- and it was re~
markable that he should be willing to throw in his lot with
a humble working-man, one who had even been a beggar
and a tramp. Jurgis could not see what help he could be
to him; he did not understand that a man like himself --
who could be trusted to stand by any one who was kind to
him -- was as rare among criminals as among any other
class of men.

The address Jurgis had was a garret-room in the Ghetto
district, the home of a pretty little French girl, Duane's
mistress, who sewed all day, and eked out her living by
prostitution. He had gone elsewhere, she told Jurgis --
he was afraid to stay there now, on account of the police.
The new address was a cellar dive, whose proprietor said
that he had never heard of Duane; but after he had put
Jurgis through a catechism he showed him a back stairs
which led to a "fence" in the rear of a pawnbroker's
shop, and thence to a number of assignation-rooms, in one
of which Duane was hiding.

Duane was glad to see him; he was without a cent of
money, he said, and had been waiting for Jurgis to help him
get some. He explained his plan -- in fact he spent the
day in laying bare to his friend the criminal world of the
city, and in showing him how he might earn himself a living
in it. That winter he would have a hard time, on account
of his arm, and because of an unwonted fit of activity of
the police; but so long as he was unknown to them he
would be safe if he were careful. Here at "Papa" Han~
son's (so they called the old man who kept the dive) he
might rest at ease, for "Papa" Hanson was "square" --
would stand by him so long as he paid, and gave him an
hour's notice if there were to be a police raid. Also
Rosensteg, the pawnbroker, would buy anything he had
for a third of its value, and guarantee to keep it hidden
for a year.

There was an oil stove in the little cupboard of a room,


[[299]]

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