Free Bowery Girl by Kim Taylor Page A

not doing nothing,” Mollie said.
    â€œYou were about to take my purse.”
    â€œNow why would I want to do that?”
    â€œI thought you were a good thief.”
    â€œWho said I was a thief? You saying I’m a thief? You know me? I ain’t seen you in my life. I’m looking for a book. There ain’t nothing wrong with that, is there?”
    â€œIs the girl bothering you, miss?” Schmidt asked.
    Emmeline DuPre flicked her hand, dismissing the bookseller as though he were nothing more than a bothersome gnat. Then she narrowed her eyes and murmured to Mollie, “Here. Take a flyer. There are better ways to do things than what you’re doing.”
    Mollie glanced at it. Something about free lectures and classes.
    â€œHow’s your friend?” Miss DuPre asked.
    â€œYou just accused me of trying to steal from ya, now you want to know about my friend?”
    â€œShe wants to read.”
    â€œAnd I want to be the queen of Egypt, but I’m busy doing other things. And so is she.”
    The Do-Gooder opened her mouth as if to speak, then set her lips in a thin line. She raised her arm toward Mollie, allowing the silk purse to dangle and sway. “Take it.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œIf you need the money, take the purse.”
    â€œYou’re nuts,” Mollie said.
    â€œNot enough of a challenge, is it?”
    â€œI got no idea why you’re talking to me.” Mollie spun on her heel. She took a step forward, but was stopped by Miss DuPre’s hand on her arm.
    â€œI know exactly who you are.”
    â€œYou don’t know anything about me.”
    â€œI do.”
    â€œI’m gonna call for the police if you don’t take your fucking hand off my arm.”
    The woman let go. She stepped back and took a deep breath. When she looked at Mollie again, there was no fierceness in her gaze, no set to her jaw. “I apologize.”
    â€œYou oughtta.”
    She turned again to the books. “What were you looking for?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou said you were looking for a book.”
    â€œUh. Yeah. A kid’s book. So’s I can teach my friend.”
    Emmeline DuPre found an old primer, bought it, and gave it to Mollie. “Let me give you a tip. Don’t watch your mark so long. I saw you coming a mile away.”
    Mollie did not know what to say. This do-gooder was quick enough to catch Mollie’s game. She knew the definition of a mark and was sharp enough to keep herself from becoming one.
    â€œSay thank you.”
    â€œFor what?”
    â€œThe book.”
    â€œThank you,” Mollie managed.
    Emmeline nodded and walked away.
    When Mollie opened the cover, a thin piece of paper fluttered out. It was an advertisement for the brand-new Cherry Street Settlement House, with a list of classes and lectures for the month of March 1883.

OF RED CURLS
    THE FOUND HUGH AND Seamus loafing on the steps of Lefty Malone’s. “Keeping a watch for the Rum Runners,” Hugh said.
    â€œWhere’s everyone else?” she asked. By which she meant Tommy, as she knew that Mugs was at his job at the butcher.
    â€œDunno.” Hugh bounded down the steps, and grabbed an empty wooden box with a faded advertisement of big purple grapes and a woman in white holding a champagne flute. He flipped the box over and slid it so it bumped the rise.
    â€œDon’t mess with the box,” Seamus said. “Lefty puts it there so’s patrons think they’re drinking quality liquors .”
    â€œI just need it for a minute. I want to show Mollie something.” He sat on the lowest step, and pointed across the box. “Sit.” He rolled his derby off his head; inside was a deck of cards. “Three-card draw.”
    â€œHow do I know the deck ain’t stacked?”
    â€œShuffle them yourself.”
    Mollie did. It was a new deck, and some of the cards stuck together. She bent the cards longways to loosen