It was late when he found it. The old waiter in his eternal, stained tailcoat was still there. He recognized the boy again when he asked for his things.

“What? Those old rags?” A peddler had taken them and had not given him as much for them as the boy still owed him. Could he pay today? Yes? Well then, just hand it over right now!

He paid and was in his old, small room. But he did not find again the peaceful sleep of the first nights. If only Atze were here was his recurring thought. Things just did not get along without him.

*

The next days were no better. Worse, rather.

He walked his feet sore. First, a long hour in the Passage until that became uncomfortable. Then, in Friedrichstrasse, all the way down to the Halle Gate.

Still, he made enough that he did not have to go hungry, could sit half the day in a movie house and pay for his hotel in the evening.

But he did not like his life now at all.

A constant rage boiled in him. Also against Atze. He, who in these weeks had not known money worries, who had sat in club chairs, at finely covered tables, with coffee and liqueurs before him, eating fancy cakes with whipped cream, waiting until they came to him, who had pocketed mostly twenty marks, once even fifty, another time thirty—he now walked the streets until he almost dropped, to go finally with the first comer! No, that did not suit him. But what was he to do?

The fifth day was really bad.

It was jinxed—not a john far and wide, where they were usually stepping on your heels!

There was still just enough money for a couple of sausages, to which he had reluctantly returned, but no more for cigarettes, which had become indispensable. He finally decided to inquire at Little Mama’s, despite her strict prohibition not to come without four marks. But he had to know if Atze was there again, or if she had heard from or knew about him.

Little Mama was at home of course (for she never went out) and she received him most ungraciously, not even letting him in at first.

“I’m a poor woman and Atze exploits me enough as it is. Atze? No, he’s not been here again. For the present he probably won’t come back at all. It’s probably become too hot for him. That’s why he skipped out.”

And she added:

“I tell ya, Chick, you can come anytime, but only when you’ve got money. You can surely make out, such a good-looking boy like you!” and she slammed the door in his face.

*

If he had not run into another boy on Unter den Linden (he had come back the whole long way by foot), an acquaintance of Atze whom he also knew, and after much begging touched him for two marks (“But only because you know Atze”), he actually would have had to sleep that night in the Tiergarten.

He woke up hungry and spent the new day hungry.

Finally, late in the afternoon, he found a pickup.

But what a disgusting little bandy-legged guy he was: his head sat between his hunchback shoulders and his eyes lurked behind his glasses.

And how unclean, how old! “Coming with me? A quickie. Three marks—”

Again only three marks! But what was he to do?

“Where to then?”

“Just come along!” They walked into a side street, entered a house, climbed up empty, dead-silent, carpeted stairs.

“Here? But if someone comes?”

“No one is coming.”

And no one came.

Below again, after the short stay, for the first time his stomach was turning from disgust. He wanted his money.

The old man, in the nearest doorway, brought out a wallet whose thickness aroused confidence.

“Wait here a moment. I just have to make change quickly,” and slipped around the corner.

Gunther waited. He waited five, ten minutes. He waited a quarter of an hour. Meanwhile he was thinking about where he would go now and what he would eat.

He waited a half hour.

Finally he realized that he had been gypped!

What a scoundrel! What a swindler! Taking away a poor boy’s hard-earned money! And the man had money, he had seen it! But if he saw him again, he would have the man arrested! Fix him for good, and on the spot! Tears came to his eyes.

He crept back to Unter den Linden and sat down.

He brooded.

It served him right. Why had he not obeyed Atze! He had told him more than once, “If you go for a quickie, get your money first!” Now he was empty-handed.

This too in addition to everything! He had no more will for it, none at all. First to go with such a skunk, and then to be cheated besides!

He was brooding and rummaging through his pockets. Not a six-pence, not one penny left. Only a broken matchbox and a squashed cigarette butt.