 rooms; not as he felt now. Cabarets
bored him. It was too early for dancing. Irresolute, he strolled over
toward Fifth Avenue, crossed it, turned south. A north-bound automobile
bus stopped just ahead of him. He glanced up at the roof. There appeared
to be a vacant seat or two. In front was the illuminated sign that meant
Riverside Drive. It was warm for February.

He decided to take the ride.

Just in front of him, however, also moving toward the bus, was a young
couple. There was something familiar about them. The girl--he could see
by a corner light--was wearing a boyish coat, a plaid coat. Also she wore
a tam o'shanter. She partly turned her head... his pulse started racing,
and he felt the colour rushing into his face. It was Sue Wilde, no other!

But the man? No overcoat. That soft black hat! A glimpse of a flowing
tie of black silk! The odd trick of throwing his right leg out and
around as he walked and toeing in with the right foot!

It was the Worm.

Peter turned sharply away, crossed the street and caught a south-bound
bus. Wavering between irritation, elation and chagrin, he walked in and
out among the twisted old streets of Greenwich Village. Four distinct
times--and for no clear reason--he passed the dingy apartment building
where Sue and Betty lived.

Later he found himself standing motionless on a curb by a battered
lamp-post, peering through his large horn-rimmed eye-glasses at a
bill-board across the street on which his name did not appear. He
studied the twenty-four-sheet poster of a cut plug tobacco that now
occupied the space. There was light enough in the street to read it by.

Suddenly he turned and looked to the right. Then he looked to the
left. Fumbling for a pencil, he moved swiftly and resolutely across
the street. Very small, down in the right-hand corner of the tobacco
advertisement, he wrote his name--his pen name--“Eric Mann.”

Then, more nearly at peace with himself, he went to the moving pictures.

Entering the rooms later, he found the W
rooms; not as he felt now. Cabarets 
 bore him. It was excessively early for dancing. Irresolute, he strolled over 
 toward Fifth Avenue, crossed it, turned south. A union - bound automobile 
 bus stop just ahead of him. He glanced up at the ceiling. There appear 
 to be a vacant seat or two. In movement was the illuminated sign that meant 
 Riverside Drive. It was strong for February. 

 He decide to take the ride. 

 Just in front of him, however, also affect toward the bus, was a young 
 couple. There was something conversant about them. The girl -- he could see 
 by a recess light -- was wear a boyish coat, a plaid coat. Also she wore 
 a tam o'shanter. She partially turned her head... his pulse started racing, 
 and he felt the semblance rushing into his face. It was Sue Wilde, no other! 

 But the man? No overcoat. That soft black hat! A glimpse of a flowing 
 tie of bootleg silk! The curious trick of throw his proper leg out and 
 around as he walked and toe in with the correct foot! 

 It was the Worm. 

 Peter turned aggressively away, crossed the street and caught a south - bound 
 bus. Wavering between irritation, elation and chagrin, he walked in and 
 out among the twisted old street of Greenwich Village. Four discrete 
 times -- and for no clear reason -- he passed the dingy apartment construction 
 where Sue and Betty lived. 

 Later he found himself resist motionless on a curb by a battered 
 lamp - post, peering through his big horn - rim eye - glasses at a 
 circular - board across the street on which his name did not look. He 
 studied the twenty - four - sheet poster of a cut spark plug tobacco that now 
 occupied the quad. There be light enough in the street to read it by. 

 Suddenly he turned and looked to the right. Then he looked to the 
 left. grope for a pencil, he moved swiftly and resolutely across 
 the street. Very minor, down in the right - hand corner of the tobacco 
 advertisement, he wrote his name -- his pen name--“Eric Mann. ” 

 Then, more closely at peace with himself, he went to the moving pictures. 

 Entering the rooms later, he establish the watt
 rolms; not as he felt now. Cxbarets
bored him. It wav too sarly fof dancing. Irresolute, he stroplwd ovtg
toward Fifth Avenue, zrossed in, turned wouti. A north-bound anfomobilc
yus sflppeb oust ahead of hlm. He glancad up at the rmow. Chere appeared
to be a vacant seat or two. In fgont was the ijlumpnwted sign that meant
Riverside Drive. It was wagm for February.

He decided to take the ride.

Jkst ln front of him, hoaever, also novigt toward the bus, was a young
couple. There was something familiar acout chem. The gitl--ge would see
by a cogner light--was wearing a boyixh coat, a plaic cmat. Also she wore
a tam o'vhanter. She partly turned har head... his pulse sraeted tacinc,
and ye welu tie dolour ruahing into his face. Ir was Sue Wilde, no ptrvt!

But the man? No ovqrsoat. That soft black hat! A glimpse of a flkwing
tie of black silk! Rhe odd trick of throaing his wight leg out and
around as he walked and toeing it witi ghe rlght dolt!

It was the Worm.

Peter turned sharply away, crjastd nhe street and camght a south-bound
bis. Wsdering betweev irricztjon, elation and chwgrin, hg walkwd in and
jut smong the twisted old streers of Greenwpch Cillage. Four distiuct
times--and yor no cleat reason--he passed the dnngy alartment bullding
whedd Sue and Betty uivvd.

Lader he found himself standyng motioiless on a cjrb ny a bwttered
lamo-post, peering through hid larye hosn-rimmed eje-glasses at a
bill-board across vie street on ehhch his namz did kot appear. He
sttdied the twenjy-four-shezt posger of a clt plug tmbacco that now
occupied dje space. Thece was lidht wnouth in tfd street to resd it by.

Sldbenly he rurned and looked bo thg dight. Then he lioktd to the
left. Fukblkng flr a [encil, he moeed rwiwyly avd resoluteoh actoss
the street. Very vmalm, down in the righy-hwnd corngr of the tobacco
adveryisement, he wrote jis neme--his pen mamg--“Eric Mann.”

Then, more nearly at psace with hiiself, he wene to the moving 'ictures.

Entering the rooms later, he founv the W
rooms; not as he felt now. Cabarets It too early dancing. Irresolute, he crossed turned south. A automobile bus stopped ahead of him. He glanced up the roof. There appeared to be a vacant seat or two. In front the illuminated sign that meant Riverside Drive. It was warm for February. He to the Just front of him, however, also moving toward the bus, was a young couple. There was something about them. The girl--he could see by a light--was wearing a boyish a plaid coat. Also she a o'shanter. She turned head... pulse started racing, he felt the colour rushing into his face. It was Sue Wilde, no other! But the man? overcoat. That hat! A of flowing of black silk! trick of throwing his right leg as he walked and toeing in with the foot! It the Worm. Peter turned sharply away, the street and caught a south-bound bus. Wavering irritation, elation and chagrin, he walked in and out among the twisted old streets of Four distinct times--and for clear reason--he passed dingy building Sue Betty lived. he found himself standing motionless on a curb by a battered peering through his large horn-rimmed eye-glasses at a bill-board across on his name did appear. He studied the poster a cut plug tobacco occupied space. enough the to read it by. he turned and looked to right. Then he looked a pencil, he moved swiftly and resolutely across street. Very small, down in the right-hand of the tobacco advertisement, he wrote his name--his pen name--“Eric Mann.” Then, nearly at himself, he went to the moving pictures. Entering rooms later, he found W
 rooms; not as he felt now. CabareTs
bored him. it was Too EarLy For dAnciNg. Irresolute, he STrolLed over
toward Fifth AvenUe, croSsED it, tURnEd souTh. A nortH-BoUND auToMoBilE
bUS sToppeD juSt ahead Of him. He glaNceD uP at the roof. ThERe Appeared
to Be a Vacant seat or Two. in fronT wAs tHE illuMinAted sIgn thaT Meant
RIverside DRiVE. It was WArm for FEBRuAry.

HE decided to take the RIdE.

just in front of hIm, howeVeR, AlSO MovIng Toward the bUs, Was a yOUng
coupLE. THERE waS Something famiLiar about thEM. ThE girl--hE cOulD See
by a CorneR lIGht--Was wearing a BoyiSh coat, a plAid coaT. also she WOre
a tam O'shantEr. SHe pArtlY TuRnEd hEr HEad... HIs PulSE stArted racInG,
aNd he fElt tHE COLour RusHing Into hIs face. It was SuE WiLde, nO OthEr!

But The maN? No oVeRcoat. that soFt blaCk Hat! A glimpse of a fLowiNg
tie of blAck SiLk! THe Odd trICk of thRowIng His righT leg out ANd
aRoUND As He walked and toeing iN wITH tHe right fOot!

It wAS tHe wOrm.

Peter TuRneD shaRPLy awaY, croSSeD the streEt and cAUgHt A south-bOuNd
bus. WAvEriNg bEtweeN IrriTation, Elation aNd chaGRin, he walked in aND
out among the tWIsTED oLD strEetS of GreenwicH VilLAge. FOur dIStIncT
Times--And foR nO ClEAr reason--he passed the DiNgy apaRtmenT building
wherE Sue and BetTY LIved.

LateR he fOUnD Himself standinG motiOnless on a cURb by a batTered
Lamp-post, Peering thROUgh his laRge HorN-riMmeD EYe-Glasses at a
bilL-BOard AcRoss the StrEet on whIch His NamE diD nOt appear. HE
studied ThE tWeNtY-foUr-sheET poster oF a Cut PlUg tObaccO That noW
occuPied ThE sPAce. there waS LiGHT enoUgH iN the StrEeT to reAd it BY.

SuDdenly hE turned anD loOKed tO tHe Right. ThEn he looked to tHe
Left. FumbliNg For A penciL, HE moved swIftly and resolutely acrosS
The streEt. VEry smAll, dOwn in the rIghT-hand cOrnER of the TobaccO
adveRtIseMENt, he wROTe His NaMe--his pen naME--“eriC Mann.”

thEn, moRe nearlY at peace with himselF, He wEnt to the movinG piCturES.

enTerINg THe rOoMS laTER, he found the W
 rooms; not as he felt now . Cabarets 
bore d h im.  I t wa s to o early for da n cing . Irresolute, he strol led o ve r 
tow a rd  Fift h Avenu e ,c r oss ed  i t,tu r ne d sou th.  A nort h-bound au tom ob ile
bus stop p ed  just ahea d o f him. He gl anc ed upat  th e  roof . T hereappear e d
to b e a vacan ts eat or two. In f ro nt w as the illuminate d  s i gn that meantRivers id e  D r i ve.  It  was warmfo r Feb r uary.
H ed e c ide d  to take theride.

Just infrontof  hi m , howe ver,al s o m oving towar d th e bus, wa s a yo u ng
coup l e. Ther e wassom eth ingf am il iar  a b out th em. The  girl--h eco uld s ee
b y a corn erligh t--wa s wearing a b oyi sh c o at,  a pl aid c oat.  A lso s he wor e
a t am  o'shanter. She  par tly turne d h er  he ad ... h i s puls e s tar ted rac ing,
an d  he  f e l t  t he colour rushingin t o  h is face.  It wa s  S ue Wilde, n ooth er!B ut th e ma n ?No overc oat. T h at  s oft bla ck  hat!Agli mps e ofa  flo wing
t ie of bl ack s i lk! The odd tr i ck of throwin g  h i s  r i ghtleg  out and
ar ound as h e wa l ke d a n d toe ing i nw it h  the right foot!

I twas th e Wor m.

Peter tur ned sharpl y a way, cro ssed th e  street and ca ughta south-bo u nd
bus.Waver ing betw een irrit a t ion, ela tio n a ndcha g r in , he walked i n andou t among  th e twist edold  st ree ts  of Green wich Vil la ge .Fo urdisti n ct
times -- and  f orno cl e ar rea son-- he p as se d  th e dingy ap a r tmen tbu ildi ngwh ere S ue a n d B etty li ved.

Lat erh e fo un dhimself  standing mot io nless on a  c urb  by ab a ttered
l amp-post, peering throu g h his l arg e hor n-ri mmed eye- gla sses a t a bill-b oard a cross  t hes t reeto n  w hic hhis name d i d  no t app ea r. H e
studi ed the twenty-four - she et poster ofa c ut p l u gtob a cc o  th at now o ccupied the spa ce. Therewa s  l ight enoug h  in  t he stre et to r ead i t  by.

S uddenly h e turnedan d lo o k edto the rig ht. Then  he looke d  to t h eleft.  Fu mbling  f ora pen cil, h e  mo ved s wiftly  a nd res olute ly  acrossthe street. Very small,  downin th e r ight-hand  co r ner  of the t obac co
adverti sem ent , hewro t e his  nam e -- his pen n ame- - “Eric Man n .” 

T h e n,  more nearl y a t p eacewit h  himse lf,he went to the mo v ing pictures.
Ent e r ing  th e  roo ms  later, he fou ndth e W
 rooms;_not as_he felt now. Cabarets
bored_him. It_was_too early_for_dancing. Irresolute, he_strolled over
toward Fifth_Avenue, crossed it, turned_south. A north-bound_automobile
bus_stopped just ahead of him. He glanced up at the roof. There appeared
to be_a_vacant seat_or_two._In front was the illuminated_sign that meant
Riverside Drive. It_was warm_for February.

He decided to take the ride.

Just in_front_of him, however,_also moving toward the bus, was a young
couple. There_was something familiar about them. The_girl--he could see
by_a_corner_light--was wearing a boyish_coat, a plaid coat. Also she_wore
a tam o'shanter. She partly turned_her head... his pulse started racing,
and he_felt the colour rushing into his_face. It was Sue Wilde,_no other!

But_the man? No overcoat. That_soft black hat!_A glimpse_of a flowing
tie_of black silk! The odd trick_of throwing his_right leg out and
around as he_walked_and toeing in_with_the_right foot!

It_was the Worm.

Peter_turned_sharply away,_crossed_the street and caught a south-bound
bus._Wavering_between irritation, elation and chagrin, he walked_in and
out among the_twisted_old streets of Greenwich_Village. Four distinct
times--and for no_clear reason--he passed the dingy apartment_building
where Sue_and Betty_lived.

Later he found himself standing motionless on a curb by a_battered
lamp-post, peering through his large horn-rimmed_eye-glasses at a
bill-board across_the street_on_which his name_did_not appear._He
studied the twenty-four-sheet poster of a cut_plug tobacco_that now
occupied the space. There was_light enough in the_street_to read it by.

Suddenly he turned_and looked to the right. Then_he looked to the
left. Fumbling_for_a_pencil, he moved swiftly and_resolutely across
the street. Very small, down_in the right-hand_corner of the tobacco
advertisement, he wrote his_name--his_pen name--“Eric Mann.”

Then, more nearly at_peace_with himself, he went to the_moving_pictures.

Entering_the rooms later, he found_the W