The Old Die Rich

The Old Die Rich is by H. L. Gold. A line under the title describes a kind of news item you read at least a dozen times a year, wonder about briefly, and then promptly forget, and adds that the real story is the one that the reporters are unable to cover. The Medical Examiner greets Weldon wearily, and Weldon, speaking in the first person, nods pleasantly and looks around the shabby room with a feeling of hopeful eagerness. Lou Pape stands looking out the one dirty window, waiting patiently.

Mark says it is not easy to starve to death when you can buy day-old bread at the bakeries and soup bones for about a nickel a pound. The teardrop cars on the glass-level road are made of transparent plastic clear around and from top to bottom, and they move along at a fair clip, but more smoothly than swiftly. Lou looks helplessly at the heap of cooling slag and asks Aaronson, whom he calls Prof, if he can make any sense of it, and Aaronson retorts by asking Lou the same.