CHAPTER XXVI.
ITS CHICK PROVES PECULIAR.
Have you never lain back at midnight in the bow of a Whitehall, withyour hands clasped behind your head and your legs lazilyoutstretched--no comrades but the oarsman amidships, and thefellow-passenger facing you from the stern, no sound but the gurgle ofyour own gliding, no sensation but the onward impulse of the boat, asgentle as the swaying of a garden swing, and the scarcely perceptiblebreeze aerating the surface of the river? Then the moon has never tintedthe atmosphere for you with such voluptuous purity as it did for RobertFloyd that night, and the sparse, dim stars have never announcedthemselves so articulately as the lights of a grander city than thatwhose gloomy masses and scattered lamps they overhung. Even Dobbs'lighting of a cigar--no cosmic event, surely--did not jar upon the grandtotality. The tiny flame, drawn in and then flaring up, gave flash-lightglimpses of a face unmatched in the shrewdness and humor of its lines.
For fully ten minutes not a word was spoken. Suddenly Dobbs' voicesnapped out:
"The hother duds, quick, chummy. There's a bobby on the draw."
A pair of black trousers was thrown toward him by the oarsman and Dobbsdrew them on over his prison garb.
"Now the coat."
He was turning his striped blouse inside out.
"Now, let's 'ear you in the chorus," said Dobbs, who immediately set upa sailor's song about Nancy Lee. Robert and the boatman swelled thechorus as desired, with rollicking "Heave ho's."
"Quit your caterwauling there!" cried the policeman above. Thepseudo-sailors at once hushed as if much frightened and rowed swiftlyunder the bridge, while the policeman, satisfied with this display ofobedience, stalked along on his lonely beat. Above the bridge the rivernarrowed and the banks were no longer of granite, but of arable loamscalloped into a thousand little inlets. An hour must have elapsed andthree more bridges had been passed, when the boatman turned into one ofthese coves and drove his keel against a grating sand bank. Thepassengers jumped out and shook the cramp from their limbs.
"Is that all, Mr. M----"
A finger on Dobbs' lips checked the boatman's sentence half-way and anod gave the answer to his uncompleted question. Robert was not payingattention, but when Dobbs touched his arm and led the way up to theroad, he promptly followed. By this time the milkmen and marketmen wereabout. A rattle of distant wheels broke the silence now and then. Thedawn-birds trebled their matin greeting and a pearly flush located theeastern quarter of the sky. After a few turns, Dobbs approached the sideentrance of a large house, not unlike an inn. The waiter who answeredhis tap appeared to have been expecting him.
"'Ere we are, Bobbs, me boy. 'Ere we'll shift our duds and 'ave a talkover the breakfast victuals. Whew! Hi'm tired! Fetch a lamp, Johnnie,into the guest chamber. We haren't clemmin' on you, we've got rocks.Hey, Johnnie?"
The white-aproned waiter grinned and led them into a private room with atable in the middle.
"The porker, Johnnie, and plenty of good hold hale with the fixins."
Dobbs had drawn his chair up to the table, set Floyd opposite him, andmade one hand wash the other with the true gourmand's expectancy whilehe gave this savory order.
"Well, you bloomin' old milksop! Hi suppose you'll put me in yourprayers now, hey? Hey? Hey?"
Dobbs poked Robert under the ribs in a fashion which the young man mighthave resented in any but a familiar and a benefactor. Apparently hisacknowledgment of his obligation was not warm enough for the cracksman,who began grumbling in an injured tone.
"Thankful? Wot's thankful? A word. Hi don't want words. Words is formagistrates and ministers and such like 'ipocrites. Hi want a mark ofconfidence. 'Asn't Dobbs trusted Bobbs?"
"Yes, he has."
"Well, w'y won't Bobbs trust Dobbs? Are we mis-mated? Do we work atcross-purposes? Hi need a pal, Bobbs--upon which you may remark w'ere isthe shillin' comin' from wot's payin' this piper? But there's pals andpals! And if Hi offer my friendship to a honorable associate Hi made theacquaintance of while we was both serving in Col. Mainwaring's regiment,wot's Jim Budge got to say? Cut and run, Jim, says I, and much obligedfor your 'elp. 'Ave a glass, Bobbs?"
The waiter had brought in several bottles of ale. Robert filled out aglass of the brown, foaming liquor and poured it down with a gusto thatseemed to cheer Dobbs immensely.
"The uniform, Johnnie, and don't overtoast the porker."
Johnnie seemed afflicted once more with his grinning fit, for he stuffedhis apron in his mouth when he got to the door.
"What are your plans ahead, Dobbs?" asked Floyd, nibbling a pretzel,while the cracksman helped himself liberally to the ale.
"My plans is Chicago. Hi'm going into business as a reformer."
"Ha, ha; what will you reform--yourself first, I suppose?"
"Hi'll begin on the police force. You haren't a-drinkin', Bobbs. Your'ealth, me boy, a-standin' toast to the 'ealth of Dobbs' pal. Hip, hip,hip-oh, 'ere's Johnnie, with the porker."
Johnnie seemed to have caught a sharp glance from Dobbs on thethreshold, for his grin subsided and he was obsequious in his attentionsto the breakfasting pair. Dobbs accepted them as a lord would the bowsof a lackey, but Robert felt constrained to brush off the importunatecaresses which he had no means of repaying in coin.
"If there's one meat in creation wot's sweet and savory," said Dobbsecstatically, digging a fork in the dish just brought, "it's a juicylittle 3-months-old baby porker, swimmin' in greens and gravy."
Robert could hardly help smiling while Dobbs carved the young pig,smacking his lips prodigiously meanwhile.
"A hearty breakfast, me boy; we've a long ride before us."
"Where to?"
"Pitch in and don't spare the gravy--w'ere to? W'ot say to theHargentine Republic, w'ere you can sue for your uncle's money by proxy,hey?"
"My uncle's money?"
"It's your'n, now the will's busted."
"I don't want the money and never wanted it."
"Then wot are you 'ere for?"
"Only the fresh air and the trip. I thought they might do me good."
"See 'ere, Bobbs, if you think Hi'm a-fishin' for a slice o' yourbloomin' pile, Hi'll show you Hi'm straight as a flag-pole. Them's notthe harticles of partnership Hi propose."
"I never said they were, Dobbs."
"But your heye says you suspect me, and it don't pay to be toosuspicious, me boy. Hi'm opposed to suspicion, bein' of a hinnocentnature myself. 'Aven't you learned that, Bobbs, halready? 'Aven't Hitrusted a hutter stranger with my rat's tooth and gone 'alvesies with'im, doublin' the risk and not doublin' the enjoyment?"
"You've placed me under a great obligation, certainly. I wouldn't havemissed this night for the world."
"'Ere's a 'ealth to it, Bobbs--a standin' toast--and may we never bunkin the bastile again. Hip, hip, hip--"
"Here are the clothes, Mr. Mc--"
The crashing of a beer bottle on the floor cut the name off at theinitial letter, and for some reason Johnnie did not finish it after hehad picked up the fragments.
"Lay the duds on the chair, Johnnie; we haren't done discussin' theporker." A black business outfit, including headgear and footgear, borewitness to the cracksman's foresight. "Bring us some more hale. 'Ave apretzel, Bobbs (hic)."
Bobbs was undeniably succumbing to the influence of his potations, butRobert knew the thirst-creating properties of salted cracker, so hedeclined the proffered morsel.
"Won't break bread with me! Hi say, Bobbs, this is a houtrage--ahoutrage. W'ere'd you be this minute if it wasn't for me? Afore a tenderlittle juicy porker, asprawlin' of your legs under the table anda-facin' a hail jolly Johnnie, w'ich is me? Or snoozin' in a ten-footkennel, with sweet dreams o' the swingin' gallows?"
"I wouldn't be here, certainly, Dobbs."
"You wouldn't be 'ere! That's so. A glass on the 'ead of it. Your 'and,Bobbs, and your 'ealth. Bobbs says (hic), and Bobbs is a gemman (hic),Bobbs says he wouldn't be 'ere. But afore we part," here the cracksmansat down again, "Hi 'ope ee'l
l show ee's a gemman and not mistrust 'ispal. Hi ain't no psalm-singer, Bobbs, me boy. Wot's more natural, with ablank check before 'im, than for the confidential clark to facsimilate'is marster's hautograph? Wot's the hodds? Hi'll drink with 'im hall thesame--and a glass on the 'ead of it, Bobbs."
Dobbs was rapidly becoming incoherent and his incoherence took aboastful turn.
"Ho, Hi cawn't 'elp a-grinnin, w'en Hi think of old Koerber a-wakin' upand a-roarin' for 'elp. Didn't Hi do 'im brown, Bobbs (hic)?"
"He was no match for you, certainly."
"Ee? Koerber? Lemme tell you there's few in the fawncy stand as 'igh asBill Dobbs. Wot's Jim Budge? A hordinary bloomin' safe-cracker as must'ave a pal. Ee cawn't stand alone, no more'n one leg of a scissors,which is the Hirish for bachelor. Barney Pease (hic) is truly great, Hiown. For sleight-of-'and work ee 'as no superior in the three kingdoms."
"Not even the solitary cracksman?"
"Not even the solitary cracksman, w'ich is me. But sleight-of-'andhisn't hall, Bobbs. It's sleight-of-'ead! Do you fawncy Barney Peasecould 'ave got you over that sky-scrapin' wall? It was Bill Dobbs' 'andy'inge done that. Lor' bless us! We'll be famous for this 'ere night'soutin'."
"I've a notion you'd be a bad man to cross, Dobbs, eh?"
"Do you fawncy Hi'd 'urt you, Bobbs, me hangel? Hi wouldn't 'arm you nomore'n a wadge-dog would bark at a baby. Hi'll (hic) Hi'll protect you,Bobbs."
Floyd smiled at the cracksman's offer of patronage. But this time hethought it better not to seal the compact with a bumper.
"Not drink?" Dobbs' temper had changed again. "Won't drink and won'tgive me no mark of 'is confidence--"
"What is it you want, Dobbs? A confession?"
"Confession? Hi? Ho!" the cracksman laughed as if the joke were a richone. He was far gone, as indeed any man might be after taking so manyquarts of ale.
"Confession, ho, ho--wot do Hi want of a confession? Hi 'ad a naturalcuriosity to know 'ow you set it, and"--his voice assumed reproachfulquavers--"a natural mortification to find that my pal (hic) wouldn'ttrust me."
"Well, the truth is, Dobbs--"
"Wot is the truth?"
"Is this house safe? Walls have ears, they say."
"Safeazherown (hic)."
"I'm afraid--couldn't I write it down--that waiter, you know--" Robertwalked uneasily to the door, but the waiter was not eavesdropping.
"Waiter," Dobbs rung the bell and Johnnie appeared.
"Bring me pen and paper." They were brought with expedition.
"Zhall I 'old the lamp, Bobbs?"
"It's almost lightsome enough to see, if you draw up the curtains."
"Hi'll 'old the light, Bobbs."
"Steady, now, you'll drop it."
Dobbs staggered over behind Robert, with the lamp in his trembling handand stood over the young man's shoulder while he wrote the followingconfession:
"When you pick a lady's pocket on a railway train next time, do it withyour left hand, Mr. McCausl--"
Before he realized what was happening the lamp had been shatteredagainst the opposite wall and he found himself forced to the floor, witha cold circle of steel at his temple.
The Incendiary: A Story of Mystery Page 26