The man now unlocks his door and steps out into the hall. You step softly to your door and listen. He goes heavily down the hall, muttering to himself. You hear him push the light button a couple of times but he gets no light⁠—you unscrewed the globe; he thinks it’s burnt out. You hear him open and shut a door; he is in the bathroom. You turn back to your man. Then a window is thrown up with a bang in the room on your other side. Daylight is racing on you. You can see clearly now. You hear other noises. The place is becoming a hornet’s nest. You must give it up and get out. You’re not broke. You don’t have to risk everything here. You step out of the room, close the door softly, go downstairs, and out the front way.

Yes, reader, you went down the street and into a restaurant where you ate heartily. Then to bed for a good, healthy, sound sleep.

Not me! I went back to the hop joint.