The old man seems to be badly hurt. He is wandering about in erratic circles on Broadway's Upper West side, two or three doors away from an all-night coffee shop. His shirt has no collar and his old pair of too-large trousers are held up by a pair of frayed suspenders. The night is cold and he has no coat.
When he turns away he reveals that the back of his head is cut open and blood is streaming down through his sparse white hair and under his shirt. He is muttering unintelligibly to himself and gesturing weakly at an unseen audience.
Inside the takeout coffee bar people are shouting angrily. A plain roundfaced girl with dark hair tied up in a dirty scarf has the floor. Her two male companions are hunched over the counter, not looking at anyone.
"What a fine manly thing to do," she yells. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"
It is not immediately apparent whom she is shouting at. Everybody is ignoring her. A white-faced cook is nervously walking back and forth behind the counter. He doesn't know what to do.
Soft cover, 4 stories, 28 pages, 8¼" x 5½", $5.00", plus shipping and handling.