The Blue Light Drug Store is downtown, between the Bowery and First Avenue, where the distance between the two streets is the shortest. The Blue Light does not consider that pharmacy is a thing of bric-a-brac, scent and ice-cream soda. If you ask it for pain-killer it will not give you a bonbon.

The Blue Light scorns the labour-saving arts of modern pharmacy. It macerates its opium and percolates its own laudanum and paregoric. To this day pills are made behind its tall prescription desk—pills rolled out on its own pill-tile, divided with a spatula, rolled with the finger and thumb, dusted with calcined magnesia and delivered in little round pasteboard pill-boxes. The store is on a corner about which coveys of ragged-plumed, hilarious children play and become candidates for the cough drops and soothing syrups that wait for them inside.

Ikey Schoenstein was the night clerk of the Blue Light and the friend of his customers. Thus it is on the East Side, where the heart of pharmacy is not glace. There, as it should be, the druggist is a counsellor, a confessor, an adviser, an able and willing missionary and mentor whose learning is respected, whose occult wisdom is venerated and whose medicine is often poured, untasted, into the gutter. Therefore Ikey's corniform, be-spectacled nose and narrow, knowledge-bowed figure was well known in the vicinity of the Blue Light, and his advice and notice were much desired.

Ikey roomed and breakfasted at Mrs. Riddle's, two squares away. Mrs. Riddle had a daughter named Rosy. The circumlocution has been in vain—you must have guessed it—Ikey adored Rosy. She tinctured all his thoughts; she was the compound extract of all that was chemically pure and officinal—the dispensatory contained nothing equal to her. But Ikey was timid, and his hopes remained insoluble in the menstruum of his backwardness and fears. Behind his counter he was a superior being, calmly conscious of special knowledge and worth; outside he was a weak-kneed, purblind, motorman-cursed rambler, with ill-fitting clothes stained with chemicals and smelling of socotrine aloes and valerianate of ammonia.

The fly in Ikey's ointment (thrice welcome, pat trope! ) was Chunk McGowan.

Mr. McGowan was also striving to catch the bright smiles tossed about by Rosy. But he was no outfielder as Ikey was; he picked them off the bat. At the same time he was Ikey's friend and customer, and often dropped in at the Blue Light Drug Store to have a bruise painted with iodine or get a cut rubber-plastered after a pleasant evening spent along the Bowery.

One afternoon McGowan drifted in in his silent, easy way, and sat, comely, smooth-faced, hard, indomitable, good-natured, upon a stool.

“Ikey,” said he, when his friend had fetched his mortar and sat opposite, grinding gum benzoin to a powder, “get busy with your ear. It's drugs for me if you've got the line I need.”

Ikey scanned the countenance of Mr. McGowan for the usual evidences of conflict, but found none.

“Take your coat off,” he ordered. “I guess already that you have been stuck in the ribs with a knife. I have many times told you those Dagoes would do you up.”

Mr. McGowan smiled. “Not them,” he said. “Not any Dagoes. But you've located the diagnosis all right enough—it's under my coat, near the ribs. Say! Ikey—Rosy and me are goin' to run away and get married to-night.”

Ikey's left forefinger was doubled over the edge of the mortar, holding it steady. He gave it a wild rap with the pestle, but felt it not. Meanwhile Mr. McGowan's smile faded to a look of perplexed gloom.

“That is,” he continued, “if she keeps in the notion until the time comes. We've been layin' pipes for the getaway for two weeks. One day she says she will; the same evenin' she says nixy. We've agreed on to-night, and Rosy's stuck to the affirmative this time for two whole days. But it's five hours yet till the time, and I'm afraid she'll stand me up when it comes to the scratch.”

“You said you wanted drugs,” remarked Ikey.

Mr. McGowan looked ill at ease and harassed—a condition opposed to his usual line of demeanour. He made a patent-medicine almanac into a roll and fitted it with unprofitable carefulness about his finger.

“I wouldn't have this double handicap make a false start to-night for a million,” he said. “I've got a little flat up in Harlem all ready, with chrysanthemums on the table and a kettle ready to boil. And I've engaged a pulpit pounder to be ready at his house for us at .. It's got to come off. And if Rosy don't change her mind again!” —Mr. McGowan ceased, a prey to his doubts.

“I don't see then yet,” said Ikey, shortly, “what makes it that you talk of drugs, or what I can be doing about it.”

“Old man Riddle don't like me a little bit,” went on the uneasy suitor, bent upon marshalling his arguments. “For a week he hasn't let Rosy step outside the door with me. If it wasn't for losin' a boarder they'd have bounced me long ago. I'm makin' $ a week and she'll never regret flyin' the coop with Chunk McGowan.”

“You will excuse me, Chunk,” said Ikey. “I must make a prescription that is to be called for soon.”

“Say,” said McGowan, looking up suddenly, “say, Ikey, ain't there a drug of some kind—some kind of powders that'll make a girl like you better if you give 'em to her?”

Ikey's lip beneath his nose curled with the scorn of superior enlightenment; but before he could answer, McGowan continued: “Tim Lacy told me he got some once from a croaker uptown and fed 'em to his girl in soda water. From the very first dose he was ace-high and everybody else looked like thirty cents to her. They was married in less than two weeks.”

Strong and simple was Chunk McGowan. A better reader of men than Ikey was could have seen that his tough frame was strung upon fine wires. Like a good general who was about to invade the enemy's territory he was seeking to guard every point against possible failure.

“I thought,” went on Chunk hopefully, “that if I had one of them powders to give Rosy when I see her at supper to-night it might brace her up and keep her from reneging on the proposition to skip. I guess she don't need a mule team to drag her away, but women are better at coaching than they are at running bases. If the stuff'll work just for a couple of hours it'll do the trick.”

“When is this foolishness of running away to be happening?” asked Ikey.

“Nine o'clock,” said Mr. McGowan. “Supper's at seven. At eight Rosy goes to bed with a headache. At nine old Parvenzano lets me through to his back yard, where there's a board off Riddle's fence, next door. I go under her window and help her down the fire-escape. We've got to make it early on the preacher's account. It's all dead easy if Rosy don't balk when the flag drops. Can you fix me one of them powders, Ikey?”

Ikey Schoenstein rubbed his nose slowly.

“Chunk,” said he, “it is of drugs of that nature that pharmaceutists must have much carefulness. To you alone of my acquaintance would I intrust a powder like that. But for you I shall make it, and you shall see how it makes Rosy to think of you.”

Ikey went behind the prescription desk. There he crushed to a powder two soluble tablets, each containing a quarter of a grain of morphia. To them he added a little sugar of milk to increase the bulk, and folded the mixture neatly in a white paper. Taken by an adult this powder would insure several hours of heavy slumber without danger to the sleeper. This he handed to Chunk McGowan, telling him to administer it in a liquid if possible, and received the hearty thanks of the backyard Lochinvar.

The subtlety of Ikey's action becomes apparent upon recital of his subsequent move. He sent a messenger for Mr. Riddle and disclosed the plans of Mr. McGowan for eloping with Rosy. Mr. Riddle was a stout man, brick-dusty of complexion and sudden in action.

“Much obliged,” he said, briefly, to Ikey. “The lazy Irish loafer! My own room's just above Rosy's. I'll just go up there myself after supper and load the shot-gun and wait. If he comes in my back yard he'll go away in an ambulance instead of a bridal chaise.”

With Rosy held in the clutches of Morpheus for a many hours' deep slumber, and the bloodthirsty parent waiting, armed and forewarned, Ikey felt that his rival was close, indeed, upon discomfiture.

All night in the Blue Light Drug Store he waited at his duties for chance news of the tragedy, but none came.

At eight o'clock in the morning the day clerk arrived and Ikey started hurriedly for Mrs. Riddle's to learn the outcome. And, lo! as he stepped out of the store who but Chunk McGowan sprang from a passing street car and grasped his hand—Chunk McGowan with a victor's smile and flushed with joy.

“Pulled it off,” said Chunk with Elysium in his grin. “Rosy hit the fire-escape on time to a second, and we was under the wire at the Reverend's at 9.30 1/4. She's up at the flat—she cooked eggs this mornin' in a blue kimono—Lord! how lucky I am! You must pace up some day, Ikey, and feed with us. I've got a job down near the bridge, and that's where I'm heading for now.”

“The—the—powder?” stammered Ikey.

“Oh, that stuff you gave me!” said Chunk, broadening his grin; “well, it was this way. I sat down at the supper table last night at Riddle's, and I looked at Rosy, and I says to myself, ‘Chunk, if you get the girl get her on the square—don't try any hocus-pocus with a thoroughbred like her.’ And I keeps the paper you give me in my pocket. And then my lamps fall on another party present, who, I says to myself, is failin’ in a proper affection toward his comin' son-in- law, so I watches my chance and dumps that powder in old man Riddle's coffee—see?”

藍光藥店位于鮑威利街和第一大街之間的鬧市區，是兩條街相距最短的地方。藍光藥店認為，藥店不是賣小擺設、香水和冰淇淋蘇打水的地方。要是你要買鎮痛劑，它就不會給你夾心糖。

藍光藥店看不起現代藥房省工的做法。它要浸透鴉片，滲濾出鴉片酊和止痛劑。直到今天，它的藥丸都是在高高的處方臺后面制作的——在店里的瓷磚上面鋪開，用抹刀分開，食指和拇指捻圓，撒上一層氧化鎂粉，然后裝進紙板做的又小又圓的藥丸盒里。這家藥店位于拐角處，一群群衣衫襤褸、歡蹦亂跳的孩子在附近玩耍，止咳丸和止咳糖漿正好等著他們進去購買。

埃基·舍恩斯坦是藍光藥店的夜班店員，也是顧客們的朋友。因為藥店在紐約東部的貧民區，所以藥物里是不加糖的。配藥師理所當然是那里的顧問、懺悔牧師、指導老師、能干樂意的傳教士和良師益友，他博學多識受人尊敬，他玄妙智慧使人崇敬，他配的藥往往嘗也不嘗就倒進了排水溝。因此，?；坨R下的角狀鼻子和知識壓彎的瘦小身材在藍光藥店附近赫赫有名，而且大家都非?？释玫剿慕ㄗh和警告。

?；乃拊陔x藥店有兩個街區的里德爾太太的家里，早餐也在那里吃。里德爾太太有一個女兒，名叫露西。轉彎抹角的陳述毫無意義——你肯定已經猜到了——埃基愛慕露西。露西讓他魂牽夢繞；她是一切化學純凈成藥的復合精華——藥典里都沒有和她相提并論的東西。然而，埃基膽小羞怯，所以他的希望在畏縮與畏懼的溶劑里還沒有溶解。在柜臺后面，他技高一籌，處事冷靜，曉得專門知識和價值；出得柜臺外面，他卻優柔寡斷，反應遲鈍，走在路上常常遭到機車司機的謾罵，不合身的衣服上沾滿了化學藥品的斑點，散發著索歌德林蘆薈和氨水戊酸鹽的氣味。

埃基藥膏里的蒼蠅（大受歡迎，比喻恰當?。┦遣恕湼叨鳌?

麥高恩先生也在力爭抓住露西不時拋來的歡快笑容。但是，他不像?；粯邮前羟蛲鈭鍪?，而是馬上接球。同時，他是埃基的朋友和顧客，經常在鮑威利街度過一個愉快的夜晚后，光顧藍光藥店，要么讓人給外傷擦點碘酒，要么讓人給傷口貼一張橡皮膏藥。

一天下午，麥高恩默不作聲、輕松隨意地走進來，坐在一只凳子上，舉止得體，態度和藹，既堅定不屈，又親切隨和。

“?；彼f，這時他的朋友取來研缽，坐在對面，正在把安息香樹膠磨成粉，“用心聽。要是你有我需要的那一系列藥，那就是給我的。”

埃基仔細查看麥高恩的面容，想尋找通常沖突后留下的痕跡，但什么也沒有發現。

“脫掉衣服，”他命令道?！拔乙呀洸碌侥愕睦卟堪ち艘坏丁Ｎ以浂啻胃嬖V過你，那些拉丁人會收拾你?！?

麥高恩微微一笑?！安皇撬麄?，”他說?！安皇侨魏卫∪?。不過，你診斷的地方真夠準的——就是在上衣里面、肋骨附近。喂！?；液吐段鹘裢硪奖冀Y婚?！?

埃基左手食指扣緊研缽的邊沿，把穩了它，用碾槌一陣狂搗，但他自己沒有感覺到這一切。同時，麥高恩先生的微笑漸漸變得困惑憂郁。

他接著說道：“她要是把那個想法隱瞞到那個時候，那就成了。我們已經為私奔作了兩周準備。有一天，她說她愿意，同一天傍晚她又說不行。今晚我們已經取得了一致意見，這次露西花了整整兩天才肯定下來?？墒?，到那時還有五個小時，我怕決定采取行動時，她又失約，讓我失望。”

“你剛才說你需要藥，”?；f。

麥高恩先生神色不安而又厭煩——和他平常的舉止相反。他把一本專利藥年鑒卷成圓筒，無聊而又仔細地套在手指上。

“我無論如何都不想讓這種雙重阻礙造成今晚不成功的開始，”他說。

“我已經在哈萊姆區買了一個小公寓，一切就緒，桌上放著菊花和準備燒開水的壺。我已經聘請了一位布道的牧師，請他九點半在他家里等我們。這件事必須成功。只要露西不再改變主意，就行！”——麥高恩先生停住話頭，疑慮重重，苦惱不已。

“那我還是不明白，”?；喡缘卣f，“你怎么會說起藥，我又能干什么?！?

“老頭子里德爾一點也不喜歡我，”這位心神不安的求婚者繼續說著，專心陳述他的觀點?！八恢芏疾蛔屄段鞲页鲩T。要不是怕失去一個搭伙人，他們早就把我趕走了?，F在，我每周掙二十美元，她絕不后悔跟昌克·麥高恩私奔。”

“請原諒，昌克，”?；f。“我必須開個藥方，有人馬上就要來取?！?

“嗨，”麥高恩突然抬起頭說，“嗨，?；?，是不是有某種藥——某種藥粉，給一個女孩吃下去，就會使她更喜歡你呢？”

?；耆靼琢怂囊馑?，輕蔑地翹了翹上嘴唇；但還沒等他來得及回答，麥高恩便又繼續說道：“蒂姆·萊西告訴我說，他有一次從住宅區一個醫生那里搞到一些藥，放進蘇打水給他的女友喝了下去。一劑下來，對她來說，他成了最好的，其他任何人都不值一看。他們不到兩周就結了婚?！?

昌克·麥高恩強壯而又樸素。比?；勖鞯娜硕寄芸闯?，昌克強壯的體格仿佛懸在細鐵絲上。他像一位準備入侵敵人領土的良將，正在試圖守衛每個據點，防止可能的失敗。

“我想，”昌克滿懷希望地接著說道，“今天晚飯見到她時，要是我有那種藥粉給露西喝，說不定會讓她下定決心，以防她毀約不跟我私奔。我想她不需要一個騾隊來拖走，但女人更善于當教練，而不善于去跑壘。只要那東西發揮兩小時作用，就會獲得成功?！?

“這次愚蠢的私奔要什么時候進行？”?；鶈柕?。

“九點鐘，”麥高恩先生說?！巴盹埰唿c鐘吃。八點鐘，露西說頭痛，就上床睡覺去了。九點鐘，老帕文扎諾讓我穿過他家的后院，隔壁里德爾家的籬笆上有一塊木板。我走到她的窗下，幫她爬下防火梯。因為牧師的緣故，所以我們不得不提早趕到。落旗時，只要露西不做犯規的假動作，一切就會易如反掌。你能給我準備這種藥粉嗎，埃基？”

?；ど岫魉固孤厝嘀亲印?

“昌克，”他說，“這種類型的藥，藥劑師必須多加小心。在我認識的熟人中，我只放心給你這種藥粉。我只會對你配這種藥，你將看到它會使露西多么想你?！?

?；叩教幏阶篮竺?，把兩片可溶藥片壓成粉末，每片含四分之一格令嗎啡。他又加了一點奶糖，增加體積，然后用一張白紙包好這種混合劑。成年人服了這種藥粉，它會確保睡眠者沉睡幾小時沒有危險。他把藥粉遞給昌克·麥高恩，囑咐他，如有可能，就要把它放進液體里服用。同時，他還受到了后院這位洛金伐爾的衷心感謝。

埃基行為的微妙之處，我們要等他的下一步棋，才能清楚。他派人給里德爾先生報信，透露了麥高恩先生和露西私奔的計劃。里德爾先生身體結實，行動迅速，面部呈磚灰色。

“多謝，”里德爾先生簡要地對?；f。“這個懶惰的愛爾蘭二流子！我自己的房間就在露西的上面，晚飯后，我就親自去那里，給獵槍裝上子彈等著。只要他踏進我的后院，他就得坐救護車，而不是坐迎親馬車離開?！?

露西在睡夢之神摩耳甫斯的控制下要沉睡好多小時，加上她殘忍的父親事先得到警告持槍在等待，埃基覺得他的情敵確實離失敗不遠了。

他通宵都在藍光藥店值班，等待偶發慘案的消息，但什么也沒等來。

第二天早上八點鐘，日班店員來上班，?；掖亿s往里德爾家了解結果。瞧！他走出藥店時，昌克·麥高恩從路過的一輛有軌電車上跳下來，緊緊握住他的手——昌克·麥高恩帶著勝利者的微笑，高興得滿臉通紅。

“得手了，”昌克笑得合不攏嘴地說道。“露西一秒不差準時登上了防火梯，我們九點三十分十五秒，在最后期限之前，趕到了牧師家。她在公寓里已經起床了——她今天早上穿著藍色晨衣還煮了雞蛋呢——上帝！我是多么幸運！?；隳奶煲欢ㄒ^來，跟我們一起吃飯。我已經在大橋附近找到了一份工作，現在我正要去那里上班?！?

“那——那——藥粉呢？”?；Y結巴巴地問道。

“噢，你給我的那東西！”昌克說，笑得更開心了。“啊，是這樣。昨天夜里，我在里德爾家的餐桌邊坐下來，看著露西，對自己說：‘昌克，要是你要得到這個女孩，就要光明正大地得到她——不要企圖用任何花招來欺騙像她這樣一位有教養的人。’我把你給我的那個紙包放在口袋里。后來，我的目光落在了在場的另一個人身上。我對自己說：他對未來的女婿應有的感情上表現欠佳，所以我看準時機，把那藥粉倒進了老頭子里德爾的咖啡里——明白了嗎？”