Читать книгу The Thubway Tham MEGAPACK ® - Johnston McCulley - Страница 6

THUBWAY THAM’S DOG

Descending the rickety, narrow stairs in the lodging house conducted by Mr. “Nosey” Moore, where he had a furnished room that he called home, Thubway Tham reached the level of the street and discovered that it was a splendid day.

For a moment he remained standing before the open doorway, looking up and down the busy street, for Thubway Tham had not left his bed until a late hour, and the city already was at work, the streets filled with vehicles, the walks thronged with human beings in much of a hurry.

“It ith a fine day,” Thubway Tham remarked to himself. “And I feel that it ith a lucky day!”

Thubway Tham grinned broadly as he said that. Now and then Tham was sure to experience that subtle and unexplainable thing most men call “a hunch,” and whenever he experienced one he was certain to act upon it. He had found that it paid.

Breakfast was in his mind, and he left the entrance of the lodging house and started along the street toward the little restaurant he patronized. He glanced down and found a dog before him.

Thubway Tham, be it known, did not possess a great deal of knowledge about dogs. To him a dog was a dog, possibly a small dog and perhaps a big dog; but when it came to breeds and pedigrees and such things Tham was as a stranger in a strange land.

It would have taken a corps of experts to explain the dog that stood before Tham now. He was a dog, and that was all, with a body that was Airedale and ears that were spaniel. There was a trace of hound about him, a hint of setter, and not a little terrier. He was yellow in spots and brown in spots. His eyes seemed to gleam; he appeared to be laughing, and his stump of a tail wagged in furious rhythm.

“What theemth to be the matter, dog?” Thubway Tham asked.

Evidently nothing very serious was the matter. The dog sprang back joyously a few feet and gave a sharp bark. Then he frisked to one side, sprang into the street, dodged between two taxicabs, and darted back to Thubway Tham’s side as though he had been demonstrating what a sure-footed dog he was.

“My goodnethth!” Tham said with a gasp. “You’ll be gettin’ run over one of thethe fine dayth.”

The dog barked again, stood upon its hind legs and waltzed a measure or two, and then crept forward once more. Thubway Tham bent over and patted the canine on the head, thinking that would settle it—and it did. Knowing nothing of dogs, Tham was of the opinion that now this animal would scamper away. Instead, the dog glued to Thubway Tham. He had adopted a new master.

Tham did not notice it as he walked briskly along the street toward the restaurant, for his mind was upon breakfast and nothing else. He passed into the eating shop, and was hailed by the snappy head waitress.

“Mr. Tham, you can’t bring that dog in here. You know very well that it’s against the rules!”

Thubway Tham turned in surprise to find the dog at his heels. His face grew red.

“It ith not my dog,” he explained. “He jutht followed me down the thtreet. Dog, get out of here!” He motioned toward the street. The dog barked once, then darted away. Tham went on to his table.

Having partaken of his usual breakfast, Thubway Tham paid the amount of the check and stepped out upon the busy street once more, his intention being to walk up to Madison Square, rest there on a bench, and watch the crowds for a time, and then, when the rush hour arrived, descend into the subway and make an effort to “lift a leather.”

“Thith ought to be a good-luck day,” Tham mused.

A subdued bark caused him to look clown. There was the dog. It flashed through Thubway Tham’s mind that the canine had waited in front of the restaurant like a faithful animal, and now was ready to proceed.

“Dog, don’t follow me,” Thubway Tham said commandingly. “I don’t crave it. You couldn’t follow me into the thubway, tho you might ath well thtop now.”

The dog retreated a short distance, but he followed Thubway Tham through the streets, across busy corners, and to the square. Tham found his favorite bench unoccupied, and sat upon it. He watched the throng crossing the square—clerks, snappy, stenographers, young attorneys—and he listened to the wild talk of loafing men who desired to reform the world more to their individual likings. It was all old stuff to Thubway Tham, but he never tired of it. Madison Square is a liberal education for a man who keeps his eyes and ears open.

Crouching at the end of the bench beside Thubway Tham’s feet, the dog seemed fully content to rest there with his nose on his paws and his eyes rolling up every few seconds toward the face of his new master.

A man stopped beside the bench. Thubway Tham glanced up lazily to find that it was Detective Craddock. Between him and Tham there had been warfare for some time. The former had taken an oath to catch the little dip “with the goods” and have him sent “up the river” for a long term. The latter had sworn to himself that such a thing never would occur. Each respected the other as a foe worthy of steel.

“Tho!” Tham said. “Tho I thee your ugly fathe again, do I? I wath jutht thayin’ to mythelf that it wath a lovely day, and now you come along and thpoil it.”

“Indeed, Tham?” Craddock said. “I regret it exceedingly. But my duty, you know, compels me to wander hither and yon, as the saying is.”

“Uh-huh!” said Tham with a grunt. “Hither and yon ith right. But it theemth to me that hither and yon alwayth meanth where I happen to be at.”

“Tham, your grammar is shocking this morning.”

“You,” said Tham, “would thhock anybody.”

“I see that you have picked up a little stranger.”

“Meaning—” Tham questioned.

“That nameless and not-to-be-analyzed specimen of canine that reposes at your feet.”

“Oh!” Tham exclaimed. “He ith a cop hound.”

“Yes?”

“Yeth! He can thmell a cop a mile away. He barkth twithe when a plain-clotheth man cometh along.”

“But he did not bark when I approached.”

“I mean a regular plain-clotheth man,” Tham said. “He knowth the real thing from an imitation every time.”

Craddock’s face flushed, but he controlled his temper. “However, Tham, I am glad to see a dog with you,” he said. “When a dog takes up with a man, it is a sure sign that the man has at least some good in him.”

“My goodnethth!” Tham exclaimed.

“I remember a particularly atrocious murderer years ago who had a dog that grieved when we jailed the master. We couldn’t understand it at first, and then we found that even the atrocious murderer had his good side. He never killed anybody on holidays.”

“Uh-huh!” said Tham, grunting. “That dog ith one that jutht happened to tag along behind me thith mornin’. I don’t even know hith name, Craddock.”

“Perhaps he is better nameless,” Detective Craddock suggested cruelly.

“Craddock, what do you want to knock that dog for?” Tham demanded. “Maybe he ith a good dog. He thhowed thome thenthe pickin’ out me inthtead of you.”

“Huh!” Craddock exclaimed. “I fail to see, Tham, how you expect to use him in your business. He’ll be a pest in the subway, and you don’t work anywhere else.”

“Craddock, if you mean to inthinuate—”

“Cut the comedy!” Craddock suggested. “We understand each other, old boy. Were you thinking seriously of taking a ride in our beloved subway today?”

“Poththibly.”

“Maybe I’d better tag along with you, then, and look to the interests of such of our estimable citizens who happen to possess those things termed wallets.”

“Thuit yourthelf,” Tham responded. “The day ith yourth, I thuppothe, to do ath you like with it.”

“I’m truly sorry, Tham, but I cannot be your little playmate today,” Craddock replied. “I happen to be out looking for a regular crook—a burglar.”

“Well, my goodnethth!” Thubway Tham exclaimed. “Whoever told you that a burglar wath a regular crook? A burglar ith nothin’ more than a high-clathth thneakthief!”

“This professional jealousy is a terrible thing,” Detective Craddock observed. “I must toddle along, Tham, but we’ll meet some other day. You said that pup was a cop hound. Are you quite sure, old-timer, that he isn’t working with the cops instead of against them?”

“He lookth like a dethent dog,” Tham answered. “At that, he probably hath more thenthe than motht copth.”

“Yes?”

“Yeth!” said Tham. “Don’t let me detain you, Craddock, if you are in a hurry.”

“I am in a hurry,” Craddock admitted. “But one of these days, boy—”

“I know,” Tham interrupted. “One of thethe dayth you are going to catch me with the goodth. That will be when I am blind and deaf and dumb, Craddock—ethpethially dumb!”

Detective Craddock grinned and then continued his way through the square, looking searchingly at those he passed; and Thubway Tham glared after him, and then glared down at the innocent pup, who promptly thumped his stump of tail rapidly against the surface of the cement walk.

An hour passed. The big clock in the tower chimed. Thubway Tham came from a reverie, got up, and walked briskly across to Broadway and toward Times Square, where, he had decided, he would descend into the subway and catch an express for downtown.

As he reached the subway entrance he discovered the pup at his heels. Thubway Tham made an angry gesture. “Go back!” he commanded. “You can’t come into the thubway, pup. Get out! My goodnethth, what do you want to follow me around for?”

The pup retreated for a moment, a playful gleam in his eyes, but when Tham started to descend the steps the dog darted forward once more. Again Tham threatened with words and gestures. The pup seemed to be of the opinion that it was a game, prancing and barking at Tham and attracting a great deal of attention, including that of a policeman in uniform.

Thubway Tham growled low down in his throat and walked on along the street. How could he go into the subway with a policeman watching him? He said mean things to the pup in undertones, but the pup seemed to think that they were nice things and continued to dodge other pedestrians, clinging closely to the heels of Thubway Tham.

Near a corner Tham found a bit of stick that some playing child had dropped. He picked it up and hurled it angrily at the pup, who barked his joy, scampered after the stick, and returned it to Thubway Tham promptly, his eyes bright and his tail wagging. Tham almost cursed.

Coming to another subway entrance, Tham had an inspiration. He hurled the stick as far as possible from him, and then darted down the steps. But before he could reach the bottom the pup was at his side, carrying the stick.

Tham went back to the street again and walked briskly and angrily along. He had believed that this was going to be a fortunate day, and here was a playful yellow pup spoiling it. And so he came, after a time, to the Fourteenth Street subway station, and there he had another brilliant idea.

“You thtay here!” he told the pup. “Lie down there, and thtay there!” There was something commanding in Tham’s voice. The pup stretched himself on the walk.

“Thtay right there until I come back!” Tham commanded.

The pup seemed to understand that. He put his nose on his paws and watched Thubway Tham closely. Tham went down the steps, now and then glancing back and motioning. The clog obeyed, remaining stretched on the walk above.

Tham boarded a downtown express and glanced about with an eye to business. His lips curled in disgust. There was nobody in the car who looked as though he possessed a wallet.

Leaving the train far downtown, Tham caught another express and doubled back. His disgust deepened. Station after station was passed, and no prospective victim got into the car.

“It ith that blamed dog,” Thubway Tham told himself. “He ith a jinx. Everything wath nithe until he came along!” He left the train at Times Square, went to the street and walked around for a time, and finally entered the subway again. The platform happened to be thronged, and Tham was gratified to see a number of prosperous-looking gentlemen waiting for the train.

Tham followed them aboard. One man in particular appealed to him. He was large, prosperous looking to a high degree, and the tails of his coat swung free of his hips. As he brushed against another man, Thubway Tham noticed the top of a wallet in a hip pocket.

That one glance told Tham that it was a large wallet, a well-worn wallet, just the sort that should contain a goodly amount of currency. He edged closer to the man he picked, but in such a manner that none noticed it. All he needed now was an opportunity, the moment when the train thundered into a station and the doors were opened, when the throng fought to get out of the cars and into them.

The moment came. Thubway Tham brushed forward, and his clever fingers did their work. Tham attempted to go past the others and hurry to the street, but his victim kept in front of him. He, too, seemed to be in a hurry, and, reaching the street two steps in front of Thubway Tham, greeted two men who seemed to be waiting for him and stepped forward.

At that moment Tham had a feeling of disaster. The victim reached toward his hip pocket.

“My wallet!” he exclaimed, making a quick stop. “My wallet’s gone!”

Thubway Tham was within a few feet of him, just at the level of the walk. He saw a policeman a few feet away whom he did not know personally, but it did not follow that the officer did not know him. Thubway Tham felt cornered. There was but one thing to do—get rid of the “leather” quickly.

His hand darted into his pocket as the man ahead stopped. Taking the wallet out, he tossed it aside as he walked on straight toward his victim, with the intention of passing him and hurrying up the street. Tham gave a sigh of relief. He had lost the wallet, but they could fasten no crime upon him now. If it was found then and there, the big man would think that he had dropped it as he came up the steps.

Just then Thubway Tham, glancing back innocently, gave a gasp of terror. That confounded yellow pup was tearing along the walk after him. Tham had forgotten that he had told the dog to stay there until his return. He had done his “trick” and left the subway at Fourteenth Street, where he had left the pup waiting some time earlier. But the worst of it was that the pup had in his mouth the wallet which Tham had tossed away and the pup had retrieved.

The bird-dog part of him was being uppermost for the moment—he was playing a game with his master again.

“My wallet! The dog’s got it!”

Thubway Tham stood as though turned to stone. His feet seemed unable to move, though his mind told him to run. The pup stopped before him and wagged his tail, holding up the wallet as high as he could and prancing around on his hind legs.

“That your dog?”

Tham gulped, but could not answer. But the big man gave him no chance.

“That’s my wallet,” he explained. “I must have dropped it as I left the subway. These men will vouch for me.”

“Aw—all right,” Tham said, gasping.

“My name’s Chester Jonebin. You’ll find the name in the wallet, cards, et cetera. Kindly look.”

Tham took the wallet from the dog and verified the name.

“No money in it,” said the big man. “But those papers—if they had been lost it would have caused no end of inconvenience. I feel that I must reward you, my man, for having such a sensible dog. Allow me!”

The big man reached into a pocket of his waistcoat, extracted some currency, and handed Thubway Tham a fifty-dollar bill.

“It’s worth it!” he said. “Serves me right for being careless. Legal papers, you understand. Depositions and such. No thanks—it’s coming to you!”

Before Thubway Tham could speak, the big man and his friends were hurrying along the street. Tham looked at the bill; then down at the yellow pup.

“Dog,” said Thubway Tham, “you come along with me. I know where they thell meat! And if Nothey Moore won’t let you thleep in hith kitchen, then we’ll get uth another roomin’ houthe. Come with me, dog!”

The dog wagged his stump of tail and followed. It was a lucky day, after all, especially for the dog.