toughs and queens in levis seemed dressed for comfort rather than business. Oh, the levis and Ivy cottons were just as form-fitting; but what they revealed was amusing and/or interesting rather than sinister and/or dangerous.

Presently my eyes were attracted by a pair of conventionally cut trousers hung loosely over narrow hips, a bulky knit shirt pulled tight over pleasantly tapered torso. These were appreciated at a glance but more arresting was a Yul hairdo with a strong five-o'clock shadow. Then our eyes met. His were knowing, mine not knowing. I am always confused by the not-so-rough trade; is he hunting or does he tease?

The moment passed and we both moved on. When I turned to look at him again, he also had turned his head and was smiling charmingly-but not at me! I spotted his victim at once: another piece, older, softer, nondescriptly dressed in suedccloth jacket and dark slacks. As I passed where he leaned against a display case, his eyes were still on the dark-headed Yul. I was able to study his face closely. It was slightly debauched around the eyes and badly pock-scarred but relieved brightly with an open grin that showed good teeth.

A few feet past him, I pretended to be interested in the contents of a man's store. When I looked back, the Yul had returned to the window nearer the Jacket. While I watched, they drew together and began talking animatedly. I could, not tell whether or not they were previously acquainted; but I felt they were. I suspect also that they were talking about me. They were looking in my direction though not including me in the exchange which I could not hear. Soon the Yul broke away and walked briskly in my direction. When he was directly in front of me, he paused, started to turn; then he moved abruptly forward and dis appeared around the corner into Turk Street. I did not follow. He had left me as prey for his friend.

The Jacket barely paused in front of me as he walked down Market. He dallied through two light changes at the intersection. When I moved out from the window, he walked against the light. I took the long way around: across both Turk and Mason. We idled half way down the block until I finally passed him while he was inside a shop. I waited in a sunny spot near Powell. I watched a newsy with a pair of well-behaved dogs for ten or fifteen minutes. Several bits of stuff went by; one I should have followed but I was growing curious about the Jacket. I found him about the middle of the block watching up the street. When he saw me, he turned abruptly away, walked past a few windows until he found one he could pretend to be interested in. I too stopped. Soon he moved on; but when he paused again I did not. I was quite close before he walked on. I let him keep ahead of me. By this time I was not sure I wished to pick him up; I had the notion he might wish to pick me up and then flash a badge.

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mattachine REVIEW

After the next figure in our minuet, I turned back a few doors to a burger joint and got a papercup of coffee, which I took to the doorway. I stood there for several sips but the Jacket was nowhere in sight. I went back inside and sat on a stool watching the parade again. It is wonderful entertainment to sit where you can watch people who are unaware of you. Of course, to walk on Market is to be watched. At least, from my post I could watch without being watched.

Before I had finished the coffee, I noticed that the Jacket was just outside the window. I do not know if he had seen me; his head was hidden from my view. However, when I stood in the doorway again, he moved away; and when I had tossed my cup into a container and followed him, he strode quickly up the street. I walked more slowly. At the corner I scanned the reaches of both Turk and Mason Streets. The Jacket was no where to be seen. Had he found more attractive game? Was it time to go to church or to meet his wife? Or had he been wasting time, entirely unaware of me?

Well, the sun still shone warmly. The Street was even more crowded with delightful sights. A husky Marine passed, supported by a sober, young sailor. A quartet of boys hurried along. One was explaining that 'it is in a building over there.' (Vic's gym?) Another somewhat older group appeared, dressed in motorcycle leathers. A couple of them looked as though they might have ridden a bike occasionally.

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After awhile I began to trace my steps to the hotel and almost at once I met the Yul. He did not appear to notice mé; but when I had stopped at a theater display and looked back, he was looking at the bills next door. Presently we exchanged theaters. When I moved out again, I was determined to finish the cruise. I had no opening gambit. I hoped one would occur to me. Only once was I ever able to say straight out what I proposed. That gambit was successful, but would it be again?

No gambit was needed, however. When I found the Yul again, he was with a Joe-college type. I followed them until they disappeared into the ramparts of Leavenworth Street.

Nothing dismayed by these rebuffs, I soon turned my attention to a youngster, aged somewhere between a YO and a consenting adult. His jeans were clean though worn in obvious places. His bright cotton shirt was freshly ironed. His curly black hair was cut a modified duckbottom with Elvis sideburns. His window-shopping was spontaneous rather than coy. He soon went into the Arcade and sat at the hotdog stand. I found a stool across from him. While he was ordering, I studied his face. He was somewhat older than I had at first thought. His eyes' were drawn from too much whiskey and cigarettes. His mouth sagged a little at the corners. His upper lip was too full, almost pouting. He told the waiter he always said "Never again; but you know how it goes." His

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