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world yearning for a little distraction."
    His stout figure bundled in a long overcoat, snowy beard nestled in the fur collar, Marshall Chase perused the used books at the end of the aisle. Chase wasn't the only one who had stopped by. Jack saw the fierce scowl on Esther's face and he didn't have to ask. At least her warning kept him from reacting when Ned patted his shoulder, less a greeting than an opportunity to show off his ring--real gold from the look of it. "Business a little slow today, Jackie boy?"
    "Seems downright dead." Chase's deep bass sounded the last word like a knell. "Could be no one's in a playful mood. Understandable." He closed the book and scooped a tin soldier out of a bin. "Well, I'll be damned. The very men I commanded in my youth."
    "Me, too, Mr. Chase." Ned helped himself to a sandwich. "Not bad eats, Red." He smirked at Esther. "Ida ought to let you do all the cooking."
    "You can't take this place from Jack." Esther's voice shook. "And you can't bully him into breaking the law--"
    Jack gave her hand a squeeze. "Better go before Ida comes looking for you."
    "I won't leave you here with them," she whispered.
    Jack wondered where the hell Ox and Harry had gotten to. "There won't be any trouble. Right, boys?"
    "No trouble." Ned brushed the crumbs off his hands. "Just showing the place to Mr. Chase, that's all. Now that he's an investor, too."
    Chase tapped a piano key. "Good sound for an upright. What, twenty years old? We could certainly put it to use." He gazed around. "Plenty of room back here for a band. You'd have the theater crowd coming in from just down the street..." He fell quiet as he looked over the radio. "Build this, yourself?" He twisted a dial and, at Jack's protest, smiled. "It's a grown-up world now, Mr. Bailey. You've seen it firsthand. Survived the worst of it. Time to leave the toys and junk behind. Step into the twentieth century with the rest of us."
    The shop door opened with a mad tinkling of the bell and a thunder of feet. A breathless Harry and Ox appeared and, finding Jack still in one piece, collapsed on each other in relief.
    "Of course," Ned added, "we'll have to do something about the riff-raff that keeps wandering in."
    " We ain't had any luck keeping them out," Harry wheezed.
    Ned turned away as if Harry wasn't worth the trouble to jab back. "As I was saying before, Mr. Chase here, he's interested in what you got to offer, Jackie--"
    "Who says he's offering?" Harry asked. "May I remind you Mrs. Madigan keeps Jack's rent stable out of respect for his folks? What makes you think if you take over, she won't hike it up to match the rents all over town?"
    Ned sighed. "Jack, I ain't putting you out of business. Mr. Chase and me, we want you in with us. You're sitting on a goldmine and we want to help you dig up the goods. There's plenty to go around. Ol' lady Madigan won't know the difference from sunny Fifth Avenue. It's just between you, me, and the man with the connections."
    Ned smiled sweet as milk at Chase, who chuckled. "I'm a businessman, Mr. Bailey, and your place looks like a good investment." Chase tucked the tin soldier in Jack's breast pocket. "You can pay back the loan. Or you can come in with us and I'll forgive it. I'd prefer the latter."
    "That's what I've been telling him, Mr. Chase--" Ned yelped as a scaly snout swung from under the workbench skirting and spread wide to show off needle-sharp teeth. Ned scrambled back in near panic. "I thought you guys got rid of that thing."
    "Get rid of Woodrow?" Ox looked appalled.
    Harry laughed. "Woody's our watchdog. Takes care of the riff-raff," he said, lighting up a cigar.
    Claws scraped the floor as Woodrow emerged from under the skirting. All five feet of him, yellow-brown and mud-caked, came to light, and Esther skipped back, too. "Maybe he is a million years old, Jack, but he gives me the willies."
    Marshall Chase hadn't batted a lash. He laughed and clapped Jack on the back. "You do know how to keep things