"The police are protecting them." "The paper said four men were hurt yesterday." "Yes," he returned; "but you can't go by what the papers say.

They'll run the cars all right." He looked rather determined now, in a desolate sort of way, and Carrie felt very sorry.

Something of the old Hurstwood was here-the least shadow of what was once shrewd and pleasant strength.

Outside, it was cloudy and blowing a few flakes of snow.
"What a day to go over there," thought Carrie.
Now he left before she did, which was a remarkable thing, and tramped eastward to Fourteenth Street and Sixth Avenue, where he took the car.
He had read that scores of applicants were applying at the office of the Brooklyn City Railroad building and were being received.

He made his way there by horse-car and ferry--a dark, silent man--to the offices in question.