He remained just far enough behind to avoid being seen and recognized by the man to whom he had given the purse. On down the street they went through the joyous, jostling throng. They approached another corner where young street singers were at work, and Tham thought that possibly he might make the attempt there, if his prospective victim stopped to listen to the singing.
They stopped. Thubway Tham glanced around quickly, searching for the best getaway in case ill luck befell him. He glanced back—and was in time to witness a scene.
Detective Craddock was plowing his way through the crowd. Tham thought at first that the detective was coming straight to him to engage him in conversation and spoil his chances for getting the money back. Craddock had journeyed downtown on police business, he supposed, and it was bad fortune that he should appear at this corner at this particular time.
But Craddock, it was evident, had not seen Thubway Tham. He went around the edge of the crowd. Three quick steps forward the detective took—and touched on the shoulder the man to whom Thubway Tham had given the purse!
“I want you, Canderon!” Craddock said.
There was a curse and a short scuffle. Tham shuddered.
“Now, take it easy!” he heard Detective Craddock saying. “We’ve been looking for you for five or six months. You were foolish to come back to town so soon, Canderon. We’ll take a little trip to headquarters now. As for your friend—”
But Canderon’s companion had darted into the crowd and disappeared.
“Probably somebody else that’s wanted badly,” Craddock said. “Come along, Canderon!”
The detective scattered the immediate crowd with a few growls and led his prisoner away. Thubway Tham slipped after them. Confound it! Craddock had spoiled things now! What fate was it that had brought Craddock there just at the wrong minute? Was Thubway Tham to lose his chance for revenge?
Craddock, he knew, was bound for a patrol box on the next corner, there to flash a message for the wagon. There seemed little chance for Thubway Tham to do anything.
Tham remembered that roll of bills in the man’s pocket. He wanted the roll. He wanted the hundred dollars, and he wanted Conderon’s hundred also, by way of profit and revenge. And the presence of Craddock spoiled things!
“Yeth, the thimp!” Tham said growlingly to himself. “Why couldn’t he have found hith man a few minuteth later? Thith ith what I get for givin’ him a Chrithtmath prethent!”
Detective Craddock went directly to the patrol box, paying no attention to the low mouthings of the prisoner. Tham followed a few feet behind. Curious ones stopped to turn and stare. They came to the patrol box, and Craddock sent in his call and waited.
Thubway Tham was desperate now. His chance to get that roll of bills was lost, he told himself. Craddock, even as he thought this, turned and saw him and grinned.
“Why, hello, Tham,” he said.
“Hello, yourthelf!” Tham replied, stepping nearer, “Made a catch, did you?”
“I certainly have, Tham. Mr. Canderon, here, is badly wanted for swindling women and children. Better take a lesson from this, Tham, and lead a straight and honest life. If you don’t, I’ll be taking you in like this one of these days.”
“Yeth?” Tham said. “Maybe tho and maybe not. Tho thith bird hath been swindlin’ women, hath he? He lookth like that thort of a cuth. I hope he getth twenty yearth!”
“Tham, wishing bad luck to a brother in crime?”
“He ith no brother of crime of mine,” Tham declared stoutly. “I don’t care if you hang him!”
“Yes, he’ll get a few years to think it over,” Craddock replied, chuckling. “He’ll eat his Christmas dinner in jail, Tham. You be careful that you don’t.”
The prisoner had regarded Thubway Tham with amazement at first, and now he turned his face away from the curious throng and looked down the street. Tham stepped a little closer.
“Craddock, lay off that thtuff!” he said in low tones. “Callin’ me a crook in front of all thethe folkth? Wonder you wouldn’t make them go on about their buthineth!”
Detective Craddock turned quickly to see that the crowd was growing denser and pressing closer. A patrolman came charging through it.
“Need any help, Craddock?” he asked.
“Just send these people about their business,” Craddock said.
The patrolman whirled toward the crowd and brandished an arm, meaning that he expected an instant dispersal of the mob. Craddock watched him at the work.
But Mr. Canderon at that moment decided that he did not wish to eat his Christmas dinner in jail if it could be avoided. While Craddock’s back was turned, Canderon gave a quick spring forward, knocked Craddock to his knees, and jerked himself free.
Craddock’s yell as he struggled to get to his feet caused the patrolman to turn and rush to the rescue. But Thubway Tham had acted already.
Tham saw his chance. He hurled himself forward and thrust out a leg. Mr. Canderon crashed to the pavement, and Tham, with a flying leap, was a-straddle him. There was a sharp, fierce tussle. And then Craddock and the patrolman were at the scene, a blackjack descended, and Mr. Canderon passed out momentarily.
And then Tham got to his feet and started brushing his clothes. The “wagon” arrived, and the prisoner was turned over. Detective Craddock stepped up to Thubway Tham and slapped him on the shoulder.
“Thanks, Tham!” he said. “Good work! I must be growing careless. But I am rather surprised that you’d help an officer against a crook.”
“But there are crookth and crookth,” Thubway Tham recited.
“He might have escaped in the crowd. You certainly bowled him over.”
“I tripped him,” Tham explained.
“A good job, too! Tham, I appreciate it! And that reminds me—I won’t be able to see you tomorrow, because when I reported an hour ago I got orders to go to Philadelphia tomorrow and bring back a prisoner. Hot way to spend Christmas.”
“Tough luck,” Tham commented.
“But you’re going to have a Christmas present from me, old-timer! Here is a five-dollar bill. You buy yourself something you really want and tell me about it later.”
“Yeth, but—” Tham began.
“Go on and take it, or you’ll make me feel mean. And I want to be square with you so, in case I get the chance to land you, I can do it with an easy conscience.”
Tham accepted the bill. “Thanks, Craddock!” he said. “Buthineth ith exthellent thith evenin’.”
Craddock waved his hand and went down the street. Thubway Tham, chuckling, walked rapidly in the other direction. He had the five Craddock had given him, and the five Canderon had given him for returning the purse—and the two hundred he had lifted from the latter’s pocket as they had wrestled across the walk.
Before Thubway Tham went to his room that night he made a little journey to the home of the man whose wallet he was carrying. Tham returned the wallet and with it the one hundred and five dollars it had contained when its owner entered the subway. Joy was in Tham’s heart, for he had made glad the heart of another.
“Merry Chrithtmath!” Thubway Tham said with a happy smile as he hurried toward the lodging house of Nosey Moore. “Merry Chrithtmath! I’ll thay that it ith!”
THUBWAY THAM’S GLORIOUS FOURTH
“When in the courthe of human eventh, it becometh nethethary for one people to ditholve the political bandth which have connected them with another,” said Thubway Tham to himself, as he regarded his reflection in the mirror over the wash-stand in his room, “then there ith a holiday born. Tho we have the Gloriouth Fourth!”
Tham crossed the room to the window and looked down at the alley. Before him stretched a vista of rusty tin cans, empty packing cases, tumbledown fences, ramshackle shacks, dirty and ragged children and tired-looking women who labored over washboards. He always had felt a keen interest in the alley dwellers in the district where he lived.
“Even thothe people will thelebra
te tomorrow,” Thubway Tham told himself. “A man may not have much of thith world’th goodth, and he may cuth the government and hard timeth and think thith world ith a helluva plathe, but he will thelebrate the Gloriouth Fourth. It ith one day when every man in thith country hath a right to yell. Far be it from me to roatht other countrieth, but I will thay that the Gloriouth Fourth ith the betht holiday ever thelebrated! I am goin’ to thelebrate mythelf!”
Having made that declaration, Thubway Tham turned away from the window and crossed the room again to sit down on the edge of the bed. In police headquarters there was a certain document that told how many inches there were between Tham’s eyes, and a lot of other data like that. His photograph was there, and some writing on a corner of a card remarked to those who cared to read that Thubway Tham was a notorious pickpocket, arrested and sentenced to the penitentiary once, and since his release the bane of officers who would like to send him there again.
Being a professional pickpocket did not keep Thubway Tham from being patriotic, however. The man who dresses in a long black coat and makes a speech about the eagle screaming is not always the best patriot. Thubway Tham demonstrated that fact now; for he raised one hand and took a solemn oath that he would not mar the Glorious Fourth by picking a pocket.
“It would be a thin,” he told his reflection in the mirror, “to thteal from a man who ith thelebratin’ hith country’th birthday. It ith not done in the betht familieth.”
It was quite late in the afternoon. Thubway Tham combed his hair, put on his hat, went out upon the street, and walked toward Union Square. He had made a short trip in the subway during the noon rush hour and had obtained possession of a wallet which netted him almost one hundred dollars in currency.
So Tham decided that he would work no more that day—he called it work—partly because he had enough, and partly because he felt a peculiar sort of premonition that seemed to say he would court disaster if he bothered about other people’s pockets that evening.
Puffing at a cigarette, he walked up the street slowly, now and then nodding to an acquaintance of the underworld who hurried along in a furtive manner. He stopped at a street-crossing to wait for the stream of traffic to pass—and felt a touch on his arm.
Thubway Tham removed the cigarette from his mouth and turned slowly.
“Tho it ith you!” he said. “I made a bet with mythelf that it wath you, and I win. Are you goin’ to pethter me again today?”
Detective Craddock, who had sworn a year or more before to “get” Thubway Tham, grinned down at him.
“Can’t a man pass the time of day without rousing your anger?” the detective asked. “Seems to me you’re rather touchy lately.”
“Tho?”
“Exactly, Thinking of taking a little ride in the subway about the time the trains are crowded with home-going folk?”
“I am not,” said Thubway Tham. “The crowdth of home-goin’ folkth are nothin’ in my young life.”
“But their wallets and watches are, eh?”
“I am not thayin’ tho!”
“Well, Tham, I’ve been after you a long time, and I’m willing to admit that you’re somewhat smooth. I know you’re busy lifting leathers, and I know that I’ll have to catch you in the act and have excellent witnesses before I can send you up the river. But I’m going to get you one of these days, boy!”
“You have been thayin’ that for thome time now,” Thubway Tham reminded him.
“True—too true, Tham. But you’ll make a little slip one of these days. You clever birds always do, you know. You can’t get away with it forever.”
“Perhapth not,” Tham told him. “The thity may get withe to itthelf and replathe thome of the men it hath on the polithe forthe with real detectiveth. In that cathe, I’ll have to be careful.”
Detective Craddock’s face flushed, and he fought to keep from losing his temper. He had learned long before that Thubway Tham always made him look ridiculous—and feel that way, too—when he lost his temper.
“Tham,” he said, “tomorrow is the Fourth of July. It appears on the surface that it will be celebrated this year with much gusto and considerable noise and merry-making.”
“That ith ath it thould be,” Tham informed him.
“Which means, naturally, that there will be a few million persons here and hereabouts who will take a frantic notion to celebrate anywhere except in their own houses and flats and rooms, or wherever they eat and sleep. That means, Tham, as no doubt you have guessed some time since, that they will be traveling in throngs. There are some benighted persons who use the surface cars and the elevated, but countless thousands will pay their nickels to the men who operate the subway. The general drift of my few remarks, Tham, is toward the main thought, which is that you undoubtedly will take advantage of the big crowds in the subway trains tomorrow to ply your nefarious trade.”
“Thir?”
“You heard me!” said Craddock.
“Yeth, thir,”
“And I’m going to be right at your heels, old boy. We can’t have people annoyed on the Glorious Fourth.”
“Then why annoy me? Why pethter me?” Thubway Tham demanded. “If I wath a dip, and I am not thayin’ that I am, I would not lift a thingle leather on the Fourth.”
“Is that the way you feel about it?”
“It ith!”
“Well, Tham, I hate to spend the day following you around. You may be a crook, but you’re a man of your word, strange as it may seem. You have a reputation in that respect. Will you give me your word of honor and your sacred promise that you’ll pick no pockets this year on the Fourth of July?”
“Thertainly!” Thubway Tham replied instantly. “You have my word of honor.”
“Very well, old-timer. We’ll call the war off until day after tomorrow, then. May I wish you a happy holiday?”
“You may,” said Thubway Tham solemnly.
“How are you going to spend it, if I may ask?”
“Coney Island,” replied Tham. “I am goin’ to mingle with all the nutth and crazy perthonth. I am goin’ to thute the thuteth and bump the humpth, and eat thalt water taffy, and watch the ocean, and all that thilly thtuff.”
“Good idea! I may take the wife and kids and do the same thing.”
“You jutht thaid that you would not pethter me if I gave you my word, and I did.”
“I have no intention, Tham, of pestering you. If by chance I happen to see you at Coney Island, I shall make it a point to look in the opposite direction, unless your actions are suspicious.”
Detective Craddock bowed with mock politeness and went on up the street. Thubway Tham removed his cap and scratched his head as he looked after the officer.
“And I thall keep my word!” he promised. “Every wallet in thith man’th town ith thafe from me tomorrow. I can make up for it on the fifth.”
II.
Thubway Tham arose on the morning of the Glorious Fourth at an hour much earlier than usual, had his breakfast at the little restaurant he frequented, and then made his way to Coney Island.
Though he considered it an early hour, yet he found thousands before him. Heads of families were there, with wives and babies and children of an age to get lost and be found underfoot. The shows and booths were open, and the proprietors thereof ready to make a “killing.” Venders of “hot dogs” and popcorn were busy. And the old Atlantic splashed before the scene as if making a dignified attempt to add to the gaiety by taking a part in the celebration.
Having found a place where he could rest and watch the tumbling ocean, Thubway Tham remained there for some time, content to let the breeze blow over him. Bathers already had made their appearance, and Tham exulted in their antics. The day grew older. Somewhere a band blared.
Now Thubway Tham always had had a weakness for brass bands. He got up and walked toward the music, making his way slowly through the crowd, jostling against good-natured men and women, with no thought of liftin
g a leather. Once the thought came to him that this certainly would be an excellent place in which to ply his trade, but he put the idea away from him. He had promised himself, and he had promised Detective Craddock, and he was a man to keep his word.
Thubway Tham ate popcorn and “hot dogs,” went into a picture show, watched the bathers and the dancers, and listened to the music. It was a good thing that the country had a day to celebrate, Thubway Tham thought. He supposed that the great majority did not even stop to remember what they were celebrating, but yet it was good.
Passing down the main street again, once more going toward a dancing pavilion, Thubway Tham found himself caught in a crowd listening to a “spieler” for a side show of some sort. A man may make a promise to himself, Thubway Tham found, but that does not cause him to forget his business training. Tham could not help but notice that a flashily dressed man standing directly in front of him had a well-filled wallet in his hip pocket.
“The thimp!” Tham told himself. “It would therve him right if he lotht that coin!”
He watched the flashily dressed man and did not approve of him. His clothes were painfully new and his manner brazen. Tham saw him approach a young woman and speak to her, and observed the young woman flush and hurry away.
“The nathty mather!” Tham said.
The man moved ahead, and Thubway Tham followed him. He was certainly an arrogant individual. He appeared to think that any young woman should deem it a privilege to be his companion for the day. The more repulses he received, the more determined became his quest.
They reached the outskirts of the crowd, and there the man in the flashy clothes struck up a conversation with a young woman who seemed willing to talk.
“Be my little playmate, sister,” he said. “I’ve got the price of a good time and nobody to spend it on.”
He pulled out the wallet and exhibited a sheaf of bills.
“Been robbing the firm?” the girl asked.
“No need, sister; no need. We have ample funds of our own, let us say. Will you try the ‘Rolling Waves’ with me?”
“Not this afternoon,” the girl answered.
The Thubway Tham Megapack Page 27