Читать книгу The Thubway Tham MEGAPACK ® - Johnston McCulley - Страница 8
ОглавлениеTHUBWAY THAM’S HONESTY
The subway station at Times Square, as thousands of persons know, is a labyrinthine puzzle invented by the devil to make men mad.
Save that it is reasonably clean, partially ventilated, and does not reek with the fumes of opium, it resembles nothing so much as a series of underground dens in some ancient Chinatown. One expects to hear weird music and singsong talk and see slave girls peering through bars.
There are countless gates and aisles and runways and flights of steps. A puzzled stranger expecting to emerge into daylight at Forty-second Street finds that he has emerged at Thirty-ninth and needs to take a surface car to reach his destination. It is an easy matter to descend the wrong steps, get upon the wrong platform, hop into the wrong car of the wrong train, and reach the Polo Grounds when intending to visit the Battery.
But there are some men endowed with an added sense who descend into this labyrinth and subconsciously find the right spot without delay or questioning. Thubway Tham was such a man. On the streets above he might become confused, but never in the big bore.
And on this particular morning about the hour of eleven, he left the bewilderment called Broadway and plunged down a flight of steps, his nostrils dilated, drinking in the peculiar air of the subway as a returning exile might drink in the air of his native land.
Thubway Tham, for the space of three days, had been confined to his room in the lodging house conducted by Mr. “Nosey” Moore, the physician in attendance having declared that Tham had a touch of influenza and would better remain in bed for a few hours.
The doctor had turned kind this day and had told Tham that he might go abroad and mingle with men again, and Tham had not delayed. He had breakfasted at his usual restaurant, had prowled around Madison Square for a time expecting to meet with Detective Craddock and indulge in repartee, and had been disappointed.
Detective Craddock did not put in an appearance. Thubway Tham, after waiting in the Square a reasonable time, had walked slowly northward until Times Square was reached. And there he had rushed down the steps and into the subway, as has been stated.
Thubway Tham knew exactly what he intended doing. He would catch a downtown Seventh Avenue express, preferably getting into some crowded car. If the gods were kind, be would locate some prosperous gentleman with a fat wallet, watch for his chance, and “lift a leather.” He hoped to be able to celebrate his return to work by making an excellent haul.
Down the steps he went, to follow the crowd through a passage and down another flight of steps. Subconsciously, Thubway Tham went in the right direction and approached the correct platform. He was just in time to see the tail lights of a downtown express disappearing in the distance. That is another peculiarity of the subway—a person always is just in time to see his train disappearing in the distance.
Thubway Tham did not care. The next express, he judged, would be more crowded anyway; and Tham, contrary to other citizens, preferred crowded trains. So he wandered up and down the platform, watching the throng, looking for a prospective victim, and waiting for the next train.
A touch on his shoulder. Thubway Tham turned slowly and deliberately, to find grinning Detective Craddock standing beside him.
“Tho I thee your ugly fathe yet again,” Tham said, wrinkling his nose.
“You certainly do, Tham,” Detective Craddock said, “But I have not seen yours, it seems, for several days.”
“I have been thick.”
“How is this?” the detective questioned.
“I have had the influentha,” Tham told him. “The doctor made me thtay in bed for three dayth. It wath the hardetht work I ever did in my life.”
“Um!” Detective Craddock granted. “When it comes to work, Tham, I fear me that you fail to qualify as an expert.”
“Neither of uth ith an ecthpert at it,” Thubway Tham returned, grinning.
“Changing the subject,” said Detective Craddock, “it pains me to find you in the subway, Tham. Whenever you ride in our beloved subway, it generally follows that some irate gent makes his appearance at police headquarters and relates that he has had his wallet lifted and all the currency therein.”
“Tho?”
“So!” said Detective Craddock. “Tham, old-timer, you have been having things your own way for some time now. But the end approaches rapidly.”
“Yeth?”
“Yes! Word has gone forth from the powers that be that one Thubway Tham must have his nefarious activities curbed.”
“Craddock, if I could talk like you, I’d get me a thoapbox and thtand on it at noon down at Madithon Thquare and try to reform the world with wordth,” Thubway Tham declared. “When it cometh to thlingin’ language, you win the fur-lined ithe pick. Ath an orator, Craddock, you are the zebra’th thtripeth, the frog’th whithkerth, and the cat’th eyebrowth.”
“Tham, you amaze me!”
“You talk a lot, Craddock, and often—but you never thay anything.”
“No?”
“No!” said Thubway Tham. “Tho far ath my nefariouth activitieth are concerned, Craddock, whatever they are, I am not worryin’ at all. Of courthe, if they hold an examination and put on thome new copth, then I might thhiver thome. But the prethent memberth of the forthe do not bother me at all. Did you ever thee a lot of babieth tryin’ to grab hold of a thtreak of lightnin’, Craddock, and cry in’ becauthe they couldn’t? I am the thtreak of lightnin’, Craddock. The inferenthe ith obviouth, ath the thayin’ goeth.”
“Um!” Craddock grunted. “I am glad to find you in this state of mind. Tham. About the time a man commences to think he is that good, he gets careless. And when he gets careless—” Craddock snapped his fingers in an expressive manner by way of concluding his sentence.
Thubway Tham grinned. “Thith converthation hath been both interethtin’ and inthructive,” he said. “I regret that I mutht leave you now.”
“Going to take a little ride on a subway train, are you?”
“No,” said Tham in scorn, “I wath thinkin’ of flyin’ down the trackth in an airthip.”
“Airship or train, old-timer, I’ll be right along with you,” the detective declared. “If you nick a wallet this morning, boy, you’ll have to go some, I can tell you that.”
“Uh-huh! Do you mean to inthinuate that I am a crook?”
“Certainly, Tham—certainly. And a better one never lived, I’ll admit. If you’d start a correspondence school in pocket picking, you’d make a fortune.”
“There might be a lot in that thuggethtion,” Thubway Tham said thoughtfully. “One of thethe dayth I might retire and inthruct the young.”
“Yes? You’ll be getting some free instruction yourself in the big stone house up the river long before that,” Detective Craddock told him.
“You think tho? A man never knowth what fate hath in thtore for him. But thomething theemth to tell me, Craddock, that my addrethth at Nothey Moore’th plathe will continue to be my addrethth for thome time to come.”
A downtown express dashed into the station and the doors flew open. Men and women poured out of the cars, and more men and women poured into them. Thubway Tham entered the nearest, with Detective Craddock on his heels.
Detective Craddock was grinning wickedly. Thubway Tham, he realized, knew better than to attempt to pick a pocket with the officer within four feet of him. His presence there would enrage Tham; in time Tham would decide that it was not a fortunate day, and would leave the subway and its wallet-carrying citizens in peace.
On flew the train, past station after station until it was far downtown.
There Thubway Tham left it, ascended to a busy street, and went along it like some tourist taking in the sights. Detective Craddock followed a short distance behind.
Now Thubway Tham, as you who have read the chronicles of his adventures are aware, was superstitious to a degree, and always played a “hunch.” The idea was firm in his mind that this was a fortunate day, and might be made a day of profit. Hence, he desired above everything else to dodge Detective Craddock, reenter the subway, and find a victim.
Now and then he quickened his pace in the crowd, but he did not shake Craddock off. He dodged through office buildings, and still the detective, grinning, trailed him. Thubway Tham’s face burned with anger, his heart swelled with rage. He decided that he would evade Craddock as a matter of pride, if it took him half a dozen hours.
There ensued a chase that would have gladdened the heart of a producer of film comedies. It endured for the greater part of an hour, and in the end Thubway Tham, emerging from the basement of a building, found that he was alone. For fifteen minutes he remained standing in a doorway, but Detective Craddock did not appear. Tham grinned and turned toward the nearest subway entrance.
He seemed to be in no haste. He walked slowly and watched the crowd, always looking for Detective Craddock. But he reached the entrance of the subway without having seen the officer, and grinned again. Craddock thought that he could not be dodged, did he? Well, he knew better now!
Tham descended into the bore and waited for an uptown express, which was not long in coming. The car he entered was well crowded, and Tham began his search for a victim. He found one almost immediately.
Standing a short distance from him was a prosperous-looking individual who was talking to an acquaintance. The burden of the remarks of the prosperous-looking one was to the effect that he had “cleaned up” on a certain stock through a third-rate broker’s office.
As a testimonial of his financial ability, he took out a big wallet and exhibited to his friend a sheaf of bills of large denomination, which almost made Thubway Tham’s eyes bulge.
Tham started to move nearer in an unobtrusive manner. But fate was against him for the time being. Before he could get near enough to accomplish his purpose, the train arrived at a station, and the man with the fat wallet, which he still held firmly in one hand, started to leave the car with his friend. Thubway Tham grimly followed them.
Be it remembered that Thubway Tham did not like to “lift a leather” except in the subway. He was superstitious about that, too. He felt that in the subway his fortune was secure, but that there was danger for him elsewhere.
Yet he followed his man, scarcely knowing why he did so, only realizing that the filled wallet fascinated him. The two men ahead wandered up the street and entered a tonsorial parlor, Thubway Tham waited and watched.
It was more than half an hour later when the man with the wallet emerged from the barber shop, said farewell to the other, and turned down the street alone. Thubway Tham uttered a sigh of relief and followed again. He had wasted precious time, and he did not intend to allow his quarry to escape him now.
The prospective victim seemed to be in a sort of seventh heaven of delight. Thubway Tham thought that he understood. The man ahead had acquired coin without work, and the fact had gone to his head. He undoubtedly was seeing visions of yachts and country places. He had won once. He would double stakes and win again. Another king of finance had been born!
If such were the case, Thubway Tham knew that his work would be easy. A gust of wind blew aside the coattails of the prospective victim, and Tham saw that he carried the wallet in his hip pocket. Tham sniffed.
Being a professional pickpocket, he sneered at a man who carried a wallet in a hip pocket, though it made things easier for him. He wondered why men did it, since newspapers, magazines, and police departments throughout the land always were warning them not to do so. But he was glad that this man did, though it stamped him an unsophisticated wretch.
Thubway Tham grinned when he saw that the other was bound for a subway entrance. He followed him down the steps and to the platform. Once more the prospective victim boarded an uptown express, and once more Thubway Tham followed at his heels. The car was crowded and jammed, much to Tham’s delight. His quarry was compelled to stand near the door, hanging to a strap. Tham stood directly behind him.
The stage could not have been set better. A man hanging to a strap in a subway express is straining his body, and so an unusual touch or brush against him does not attract his attention. Moreover, he is uncomfortable, and thinking hard things about the transportation company, and an angry man does not care properly for his valuables.
Tham had only to do his work and dart out of the door when the express made the next stop. He looked carefully around the car, but saw neither Detective Craddock nor any other officer of the law. It was almost too good to be true.
Tham knew that the train was approaching the next stop. He managed to get a step nearer, and now he was almost brushing against the man with the wallet.
But it was not to be. Somebody behind Tham called softly, and the prospective victim turned around. He looked, smiled, extended his free hand. He was greeting another acquaintance—and he had turned in such a manner that Tham could not get at the wallet.
Thubway Tham felt like cursing, but he did not. He was the soul of patience at such a time. He had waited for some time, and he could wait longer. The wallet was worth waiting for, he decided. And now the express stopped, the door flew open, and Tham’s man and his friend stepped out. Tham grunted his disgust and followed them.
“Made a killing in the market,” his prospective victim was saying. “Look at this!”
They were walking along the platform, Thubway Tham a few feet behind them. Once more the wallet was exhibited; again the flap of it was thrust back and the bundles of currency revealed. Thubway Tham licked his lips as he watched.
And then he almost gasped. The man ahead, returning the fat wallet to his pocket, talking to his friend meanwhile, had missed the pocket—and the wallet had dropped to the floor.
Tham, his heart pounding at his ribs, stepped forward briskly and bent. He picked up the fat wallet and stood erect again. He looked ahead—and smiled.
Half a dozen quick steps he took; and touched the owner of the wallet on the shoulder.
“Pardon me, thir, but you jutht dropped thith,” Thubway Tham said. “I wath walkin’ right behind you, and I thaw it.”
The eyes of the other bulged. For a moment his face went white, and then resumed its natural color.
“Great Scott!” he roared. “What luck! Just made a killing in the market, and almost lost the coin through my carelessness. I’ll say this for you, sir—you are an honest man. There are eight thousand dollars in this wallet. Allow me to reward you.”
“That ith not netheththary,” Tham said.
“But it is necessary, my man. I wouldn’t feel right if I did not reward you. Here is a hundred-dollar bill, sir, and let me say again that you are an honest man.”
Thubway Tham accepted the bill thankfully and humbly and voiced his appreciation, The owner of the wallet went on up the stairs. For the second time that day, Tham felt a touch on his shoulder, and turned to find Detective Craddock regarding him in a puzzled manner.
“Tham, you are beyond me,” Craddock said. “You didn’t shake me, boy, as you thought. And I’ve been watching you trail that guy for almost a couple of hours. I know you were after the boob’s wallet. Yet, when he drops it, you pick it up and return it to him.”
“Why, what elthe could a gentleman do, Craddock?” Thubway Tham demanded.
“I don’t seem to get this.”
“I may be a dip,” said Thubway Tham, his face serious, “but I do not take advantage in a cathe like that. That man lotht hith wallet. I thaw him lothe it, and returned it. My goodnethth, Craddock, ith there anything tho very wonderful in that?”
Thubway Tham sniffed and went up the stairs to the street. Detective Craddock looked after him, scratching at his head just over the left ear, as he always did when badly puzzled. Craddock could not understand it.
Up on the street, Thubway Tham, despite the loss of the fat wallet, allowed himself to grin again. It was his lucky day and he knew it. What Detective Craddock did not know was that Thubway Tham, as he stood erect after picking up the wallet, had glanced ahead into the tiny mirror on a slot machine that dispensed candy and gum, and had seen the reflection of Detective Craddock behind him. How easy it would have been for Craddock to have seized him with the wallet in his possession and made the assertion that Tham had picked a pocket?
“It payth to be honetht thometimeth,” Thubway Tham said to himself, grinning yet again. “A hundred buckth inthtead of a thell in the hoothgow ith not tho bad!”