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the gold-laced autocrat of the kerb went forward from the “Everleigh” doorway to welcome the latest arrivals, he raised his haughty eyebrows. He had caught the sound of a child’s voice, and if there was one evil which the “Everleigh” religiously eschewed it was children. His manner was cold as he assisted the party to alight and watched them trail into the lobby. First a tall man with head well erect, at his heels a, vicious pie-faced bull dog, then a young and remarkably pretty girl, leading by the hand a weary child clad in clothes such as sweet charity alone would have the heart to envelop him. The hotel clerk decided upon his course the moment the group appeared in the doorway. The “Everleigh” Rh