Some called simply for a bowl of soup or sandwiches and coffee;
others entitled their bearer to one, two, three or more days of full
meals; a few were for single regular meals; a very few were, in effect,
meal tickets good for a week.
Of riches and power Margrave Quigg had none; but he had a Caliph's
heart--it may be forgiven him if his head fell short of the measure of
Harun Al Rashid's. Perhaps some of the gold pieces in Bagdad had put
less warmth and hope into the complainants among the bazaars than had
Quigg's beef stew among the fishermen and one-eyed calenders of
Manhattan.
Continuing his progress in search of romance to divert him, or of
distress that he might aid, Quigg became aware of a fast-gathering crowd
that whooped and fought and eddied at a corner of Broadway and the
crosstown street that he was traversing. Hurrying to the spot he beheld
a young man of an exceedingly melancholy and preoccupied demeanor
engaged in the pastime of casting silver money from his pockets in the
middle of the street. With each motion of the generous one's hand the
crowd huddled upon the falling largesse with yells of joy. Traffic was
suspended. A policeman in the centre of the mob stooped often to the
ground as he urged the blockaders to move on.
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