The slum-clearance project knit the three of us still more closely together. Jack quit his paper, where he had often editorialized against the city’s laxness, and became manager of activities. We could not clean up everything, but we would do as much as we could. My money—it had reached over a half million—poured into the venture. Firetrap, vermin-infested tenements began to go down, foundations up.
Tom Link, my “cousin,” came from his west-coast law office to help with legal matters. I have forgotten to mention Tom. He hadn’t suddenly lost all interest in me, after his losing court battle, or I in him. It was just that he had gone to his new position, before the date of my near-execution, unable to bear being around for that bitter event. We had exchanged letters steadily, after my pardo
