Thubway Tham Meetth a Girl

by Johnston McCulley

Thubway Tham
Meetth a Girl

^by Johnston McCulley

Author of “Thunderbolt,” Stories, etc.

THIS morning Thubway Tham arose to the deadly monotony of another day. Certainly there was nothing to indicate that this day would be in any way different from hundreds that had gone before. Tham did not even feel a “hunch.”

Having bathed and dressed, he stood at the window in his room in the lodging house conducted by Mr. “Nosey” Moore, a gentleman known to the police as a retired burglar, and looked at the scene spread below him. A moment he looked, and then his lips curled in a sneer of deep disgust.

“Thame old thunthhine,” Thubway Tham declared to himself. “Thame old alley. Thame roofth and chimneyth. Thame river in the dithtance. Alwayth the thame. There ith never anything happening. Life ith the bunk. I have a notion to get mythelf arrethted jutht to get a thrill!”

Of course Tham did not mean the last statement. Being a well-known dip who once had done time in the big gray house up the river, Tham knew that another conviction would result in a long sentence and possibly put an effectual end to his career. But he wanted a thrill just the same. And it developed during the day that Fate, schemer of all things, had got Thubway Tham in this frame of mind so that he would recognize to its full value the thrill when it came.

Tham descended the rickety stairs, growled a morning greeting to Nosey Moore, and went out upon the street. It was a beautiful day, but Thubway Tham failed to appreciate it, simply because there had been so many beautiful days recently.

He walked down the street toward the little restaurant where he generally ate his breakfast, entered, sat at his usual table, and gave his usual order to the usual waitress. More deadly monotony! But Tham did not think of the expedient of going to another restaurant and encountering something new.

Slowly he ate and glanced at the morning newspaper the waitress had put at his elbow. He regarded the front page and found nothing there to interest him deeply, not being concerned with national affairs or the latest scandal. He glanced at the sporting page, took a look at some of the big advertisements, and finally turned to the editorial page.

This was the working of Fate again. Tham rarely glanced at an editorial page. He had the idea, not without foundation in fact, that most newspaper editorial pages are a great waste of white paper and ink.

On the editorial page he found a short syndicated article by a famous writer who perhaps had instructed his secretary to write the thing and afterward had signed it without reading what had been written. The article was to the effect that there is a moment in the life of every individual when there comes a great thrill, a supreme second, one always to be remembered.

“Thith ith the bunk!” Tham told himself, “There ith no thuch thing ath a thrill any more. My goodneth! If there ith a great thrill, I never have theen one. Thith kind of thtuff maketh me thick!”

The little waitress stopped beside him and dropped a check on the table.

“No thuch thing ath a thrill!” Tham repeated, this time aloud.

“Oh, I don't know!” the little waitess remarked, glancing down at him.

Thubway Tham looked up and grinned. “Tho you want to argue with me about it, do you?” he asked. “I thuppothe you have had a great thrill thometime?”

“You said it, Mr. Tham.”

“Then you are a very lucky girl,” Tham told her. “You are the luckietht girl in the world, I thuppothe. Where doeth a man go to get one of thethe thrill thingth?”

“I got mine,” replied the little waitress, “by falling in love a few years ago.”

“My goodneth!” Tham gasped. “Of all the thilly rot! Well, I'll never get a great thrill that way. Any time I fall for a thkirt it will be a cold day in Augutht—a mighty cold day with thnow on the ground and ithe on men'th whithkerth.”

“Uh-huh!” the little waitress said. “I've heard guys talk like that before. The tougher they are, the harder they fall. I knew a big business man once who used to make his clerks flinch when he talked. And along came a little slip of a girl without any sense at all and hardly any good looks, and he fell for her like a ton of cast iron.”

“The thilly ath!”

“And let me tell you this, Mr. Tham—when you do fall, you're going to fall hard. I've seen your kind before. Little old Cupid is probably poisoning an arrow for you this minute.”

“Talk thenthe,” Thubway Tham begged. “Do I look like a thaphead? Me fall in love? Where do you get that thtuff? No thkirt for mine. Thkirtth cauthe motht of the trouble in the world.”

“Uh-huh! But some men like trouble,” the little waitress observed. And then she retired to the kitchen, and Thubway Tham paid his check and went out upon the street and journeyed in the direction of Madison Square.

In common with most New Yorkers, Thubway Tham had a favorite spot in the city of cities. He loved Madison Square. It was his custom in favorable weather to walk to the Square, sit down and watch the crowds for a time, and then proceed to a subway entrance and go about his nefarious business of lifting leathers and extracting from them currency belonging to others.

And so Tham had no “hunch” as he walked toward the Square, for it was a place of security to him, a corner he knew well. Fate did not have to guide his steps in that direction; Tham aided Fate by guiding his own steps.

He entered the Square at a corner, went halfway across it, and sat down on a bench. For a few minutes he watched the everchanging crowd, and then he heard a soft chuckle beside him, and looked up quickly to find Detective Craddock standing there.

“Tho I thee your ugly fathe again!” Tham observed.

“It appears that we do meet frequently, Tham,” Craddock replied, sitting down beside him. “I have not seen you for several days, however. Have you been behaving yourself?”

“I alwayth behave mythelf,” Tham told him.

“Yeh? Especially in the subway,” said Craddock, “I suppose you haven't lifted a leather for several months, and wouldn't think of doing it now if you had the chance.”

“Did you ever thee me lift one?” Tham asked.

“Old-timer, I'll admit that I never did. It is my life's ambition to observe just that thing. And then, old boy, I'll take you firmly by the collar and lead you to a nice, sunny cell, and in a few days you'll hear the judge mention something about several years in stir.”

“Yeth?”

“Yes,” Craddock replied. “I haven't given up hope of catching you, Tham.”

“Hope ith a great thing,” Tham remarked. “Jutht keep on with that hope thtuff, Craddock. It ith a good tonic.”

“When I do get you, Tham, I'll get you right.”

“It theemth to me that I have theard you expreth yourthelf with thimilar wordth before,” said Tham. “Craddock, if I am never caught until you catch me I can go my merry way until the Grim Reaper cutth me down.”

“Um!” Craddock grunted. “Be that as it may, Tham, I still have hopes. Are you thinking of taking a little ride in the subway to-day?”

“Why do you athk?” Tham wanted to know.

“Because, if you are, I may feel like trailing along and watching to see what happens.”

“You have trailed along theveral timeth and never thaw anything,” Tham replied.

Detective Craddock's face flushed. “Think you're smart, don't you?” he asked. “I know very well that you lifted a leather right under my nose once and got away with it. But just try it again, Tham. That's all I ask. Try it again—and see where you land!”

“My goodneth! Now you are gettin' mad," Tham observed. “It ith an eathy thing to get your goat.”

“So?”

“Tho!” said Tham. “You make me laugh, Craddock, at timeth.”

“I'll make you weep before our little affair is done, Tham. The big boss down at headquarters has been mentioning the fact that you are not behind bars where you belong. It is strictly up to me to put you there.”

“You have thome job ahead of you,” Tham retorted.

Detective Craddock stood up. “Well, I'll see you later, Tham,” he said, “Just now I am after a gent who resorts to burglary when he happens to be in need of funds. You small fry can wait.”

Having given that cruel thrust, Detective Craddock hurried on through the Square. Thubway Tham's face turned purple with wrath and for a moment he had thoughts of following Craddock and saying something sarcastic. However, his anger lasted but a moment, and then he grinned. He jabbed at Craddock whenever he had the chance, so why lose his temper when Craddock took a jab at him?

So he forgot Detective Craddock for the time being, and thought of entering the subway and looking for a victim. He left the bench after a time and walked across to Broadway, and continued to Times Square. There he caught a downtown express, and glanced around at those nearest him.

Immediately Tham spotted a man who looked like a person of comfortable means. He was a huge man who radiated prosperity, and Tham could tell at a glance that his mind was upon some matter of business, that he was oblivious of his immediate surroundings. Such men make good victims.

Tham pressed forward slowly, so as not to attract attention, until he was directly behind his man, who was standing near one of the doors. He lurched against the prospective victim as the train took a curve. The next moment he would have grinned, save that the situation called for a vacant look on his face. The man he had selected had a wallet in his hip pocket!

“The thilly ath!” Tham mused. “He ought to lothe it! A man who hath no more thenthe than to carry a wallet in hith hip pocket thhould be touched!”

And now Thubway Tham waited for an opportune moment. It came when the express made the next stop. There was a wild surging toward the door. Men and women struggled to get out, and others struggled to get in.

Tham's hand darted downward and did its work, The wallet was obtained without difficulty and slipped into the side pocket of Tham's coat.

And then several things happened!

The door jammed for an instant, and when finally it was opened the press of human beings hindered Thubway Tham making his quick get-away and darting up the stairs to the street and away from his victim!

The victim himself discovered his loss and let out a roar, as such victims always do!

(nd, above all, the stern voice of Detective Craddock reached Thubway Tham's ears from behind. “Tham, I want you!” And at the same time Detective Craddock grasped Thubway Tham by the coat collar and the right arm, holding him, stopping him, preventing him, above all, from reaching that coat pocket and tossing the wallet to the floor of the car!

There was a moment of consternation, and then Tham, Craddock, and the victim were out on the platform, surrounded by a mob of the curious. Thubway Tham gulped once, and then made an attempt to appear the injured innocent. But he felt that he was lost. Craddock had him now! Craddock, Tham supposed, had pretended to leave him in the Square, but in reality had turned to shadow him. Tham cursed himself for his carelessness.

That wallet was in his pocket. Craddock would find it there. Here stood the victim to make an instant identification. Perhaps Craddock had seen the deed. There seemed to be no way out.

Despair was in the heart of Thubway Tham, but only indignation was in his face.

“Craddock, you ath, what theemth to be the trouble?” he asked. “Why all the merry uproar?”

“I've got you, old-timer, as I said I would,” Craddock replied. “I happened to turn and follow you to-day. This ends you, Tham! I'm downright sorry, too, for our little war has been a merry one. You're a crook, though, and I'm a cop——”

“Why the lecture?” Tham sneered. “Tryin' to make a reputation with thith crowd of thimpth? And what do you mean, anyway?”

Tham was hoping that Craddock would grow careless during this conversation and let go his arm, so that Tham could get that wallet out of his pocket. But Craddock did nothing of the sort.

“I mean that I saw you have your eyes on this gentlemen,” Craddock said. “I watched you, old boy. You were so very clever—but not clever enough. You've lifted your last leather for some years to come.”

“You mean to thay that I lifted thith man'th wallet?”

“I didn't see the wallet make the exchange, Tham, but I saw your famous nimble hand make a lightninglike move. And I stand ready to bet that the wallet is in one of your coat pockets right now.”

“Search him!” cried the victim. “There are three thousand dollars in that wallet. I was going to use it to buy bonds——”

Two patrolmen put in an appearance, and at Craddock's nod they dispersed the crowd. Craddock, still very cautious, conducted Thubway Tham to one side, the victim, and one of the patrolmen following. Tham still pretended bravado, but he knew that his time was short.

Craddock had won! For Tham there remained years behind prison walls. All at once Tham began to appreciate what liberty meant. He remembered with horror the one short term he had served before. How could he endure a long stretch of years?

“Well, thearch me and end it!” Tham muttered suddenly.

“I'll just do that little thing,” Craddock replied. He nodded to the patrolman, and that officer stepped forward and held Tham's wrists over his head. Craddock began the search. Tham was on the verge of trembling. The end was near, he knew. He would be on his way to a cell soon,

Craddock continued the search. And finally he explored the pocket wherein Thubway Tham had slipped the wallet. He found nothing in it!

Tham was more surprised than Craddock, but he did not betray himself. Craddock searched further, and then gave up in huge disgust. He snarled when he spoke to Tham again.

“What did you do with it?” he demanded.

“Do with what?” Tham countered.

“You got that wallet, and I know it.”

“You mean you think tho,” Tham corrected. “You grathped me right away, you thay, and you have watched me thinthe, and now you thearch me and don't find a wallet. Craddock, you mutht be an ath. Ath much ath I like you, I am forthed to that conviction. Thome crook mutht have been thtandin' right bethide me and did that work right under your nothe. That ith—if thith man had a wallet.”

“Confound it, there were three thousand dollars in it!” the victim exploded. “Officer, it seems to me that you nabbed the wrong man.”

Craddock's face grew red. “This man is the cleverest pickpocket in town!” he declared.

“Well, he hasn't my wallet, and we are all certain that he had no chance to throw it away,” the victim declared. “Some other crook must have got it, I shall have to report this occurrence to headquarters, officer. What is your name?”

“My name is Craddock. Report—and a lot of good it will do you!” the detective declared.

The victim wrote the name carefully in a book and then turned toward the stairs that led to the street. Detective Craddock whirled upon Thubway Tham furiously.

“You got that leather, and I know it!” he said explosively. “You've made an ass of me some way!”

“You were an ath before we ever met,” Tham assured him with a smile on his face. “You jutht made a little mithtake, Craddock. The betht of uth do that at timeth.”

“None of your lip, now!”

'Mad again, are you? My goodneth! You have an awful dithpothition to-day, Craddock. Your breakfatht mutht have dithagreed with you. You jutht maded a mithtake. You imagined that I made a bad move, and then thith bird yellth that he hath had hith pocket picked, and you jump to concluthionth. You thearthhed me, and you didn't find anything. Thuppothe you let me go now.”

Craddock stepped back. “Go!” he said. “Go—and watch out for me in the future! I'm going to camp on your trail, old-timer! I'm going to get you if it takes years! I'm going to get you good and proper! I'm——”

“You'll have apoplecthy if you ain't careful,” Tham said warningly. “Thee you later, Craddock.”

He grinned, left the detective standing there, and went slowly up the steps to the street. But, once sure that Craddock had not followed, the expression on Tham's face changed to one of bewilderment.

Thubway Tham knew perfectly well that he had lifted that leather and had slipped it into the right-hand pocket of his coat. He had expected Detective Craddock to find it there and arrest him.

What had happened he could not guess. He knew that there had been no pal of the underworld near him at the time. Craddock had acted quickly, too. What special and peculiar Providence had stepped in and saved him, and by what means?

Tham pushed his cap to one side of his head and scratched that head just above the left ear, a sign that he was thinking deeply. He confessed before he had walked a block that the thing was beyond him. He had been saved—also he had lost a wallet that contained three thousand dollars, if the victim was to be believed.

On the first corner, which was a comparatively quiet one, Thubway Tham stopped to light a cigarette, using this moment to make certain that Detective Craddock was not following him. He failed in lighting the cigarette, failed purposely, so he would have a chance to go through all his pockets as though in search for a match. As he did so, he felt of the lining of his coat. He had entertained a wild thought that the wallet might have slipped into the lining.

“Mutht have dropped the thing on the floor when I thought I wath puttin' it in my pocket,” Tham told himself. “I hate to lothe the coin, but it ith a good joke on Craddock. That bird ith mad, though, and I'll have to keep my eyeth peeled for him for a few dayth, I gueth.”

Tham started up the side street. The affair had shaken him, and he had decided to lift no more leathers this day. His funds were low, but not distressingly so, and he could afford to forget his work for a day or two. He would go home to his room in the lodging house of Nosey Moore, read the newspapers, and rest.

Purchasing his two favorite evening papers at a corner stand Tham walked on. Now he came to a block where there were few pedestrians, one of those half-dead blocks to be found here and there in any city.

“Thubway Tham!”

Tham flinched when he heard the voice. It was a sweet, musical voice, the like of which he never had heard before. He turned his head slowly and stopped. Hastening after him, almost running to catch up with him, was a young woman.

Rapidly Tham blinked his eyes as she came to a stop, panting, beside him. She was a little slip of a thing with yellow hair and blue eyes and roguish dimples, a dainty little bit of womankind who, despite her doll-like appearance, had an expression in her face that told she was wise enough to take care of herself, the sort to have presence of mind in an emergency.

“You were callin' me?” Tham asked.

“Yes, Tham.”

“You theem to know me, mith, but I don't know you,” Tham said, on guard instantly.

“Oh, everybody knows you, Tham, and who am I that you should know me?”

“Did you want to thee me about thomethin'?” Tham asked.

“I certainly do. You've had quite a shock to your nervous system, haven't you?”

“I am thure that I do not know what you mean,” Tham told her.

“You don't have to pretend with me,” she said, pouting a bit. “You're not afraid of me, are you?”

“I ain't afraid of any thkirt that liveth!” Thubway Tham informed her without hesitation.

“Uh-huh!” she said, as though doubting it. “Well, my name is Nettie Burde. Ted Burde, of Philadelphia, was my uncle.”

Thubway Tham's eyes opened wide. “Ted Burde!” he gasped. “Ted Burde, the thmoothetht dip that ever ticked the calendar of time! Tho he wath your uncle?”

“He was,” Nettie Burde replied. “He raised me after my father and mother died, and I kept house for him.”

“He wath the man who nicked that plungin' millionaire for hith roll,” Tham said with some awe.

“That's right,” said Nettie. “He died two years ago.”

“I heard about it,” Tham told her, “I am thorry.”

“Oh, he was getting old,” Nettie Burde said. “He was afraid to keep on working. And the fortune he made—well, uncle liked to play the races. Easy come, easy go.”

“Tho he didn't leave you much?” Tham asked. Tham thought that he understood now. He was in for a “touch.”

“He left me about two hundred dollars,” Nettie said. “And he left me a certain knowledge of things. He made good dip out of me, Tham.”

“Tho?”

“Yes, indeed. And I came to New York, where I wasn't known and started in. But it was a hard game, and so I turned straight.”

“You did?” Tham gasped.

“I did. I studied stenography, and finally I got a position. And I'm holding it, too. It isn't much of a job—only twenty a week. But I hope to get more salary one of these days, when I have more experience.”

“Tho you get along on twenty a week?” Tham asked.

“I just do get along. I can't have pretty things, of course. But I'm a bit proud of myself, Tham.”

“Good girl,” Tham commented. He looked at her closely again and told himself that here was a girl different from the others. Every man tells himself that at some time or other. Fate was giving Thubway Tham a straight right to the jaw, but Tham did not care,

“Oh, I forgot!” she exclaimed suddenly. “You got me to telling my life history, and I haven't said why I called to you.”

“If I can be of thervice,” Tham began.

“I'm afraid you have the wrong idea of me, Tham. You are thinking this second that I want to make a touch because my uncle was Ted Burde—and you're wrong. I referred, I believe, to the fact that you had a shock a short time ago. Don't pretend with me now.”

“What ith thith?” Tham asked in simulated surprise,

“I was on that subway train, standing within six feet of you, Tham.”

“My goodneth!” Tham gasped.

“You were clever, boy, but luck was against you. I saw Craddock with his eye on you, and I was afraid for you, Tham—desperately afraid.”

“Afraid for me?” Tham asked. “Why?”

“Oh, I like you, I guess. I've heard such a lot about you. And you're the right kind of a dip. You 'tend to business and don't mix with the wrong people. You keep your place, Tham, and make other persons keep their places.”

“My goodneth!”

“So I was afraid for you, Tham. I thought sure, at first, that Craddock had seen everything. And then the door jammed, and Craddock started for you, and that simp you had touched let out his big howl—and so——”

“Tho?” Tham asked.

“I had seen you drop that wallet into your coat pocket, of course. Perhaps the ordinary person would not have seen it, but Ted Burde's niece did. I knew they'd have you in a few seconds, Tham. And so——”

“Tho?” Tham asked again.

“So I—I nicked that wallet out of your pocket, Tham, and when they searched you they didn't find it. And when I got on the street I got rid of the leather and kept the bills for you. I've got them here for you now, Tham. Come close and I'll slip them to you. I rolled 'em up. I didn't count 'em, but there must be a big wad.”

She slipped close to Thubway Tham, her hand darted out, and Tham felt something dropped into his pocket.

“You—you thaved me!” he gasped. “And then you followed me to give me the billth! Why didn't you keep them yourthelf, if you are workin' for twenty a week in thethe dayth?”

“Tham! Steal from a pal?”

“You're thtraight, you thaid.”

“But I'm Ted Burde's niece, Tham. Do you think I'd do a thing like that? Maybe you think I split the roll before I gave it to you. Do you?”

“My goodneth, no!” Tham gasped. “It jutht thurprithed me that you took the trouble to give the money back. Not many would have done it.”

“But I like you, Tham. And you took the big risk, you know.”

“Tho did you,” Tham declared. “Thuppothe Craddock had theen you? You'd be on your way to the hoothgow right now, Mith Burde.”

“If you're thankful, call me Nettie.”

“My goodneth! I never called a girl by her front name in all my life,” Tham declared.

“That's a fib.”

“It ith no fib,” Tham declared. “I never mithed much with the thkirrth, I alwayth thaid they wath the bunk. That wath before I met you.”

Nettie Burde laughed merrily. “Well, Tham, I'm glad that I was standing near you,” she said. “I'm glad that Craddock didn't get the goods on you. I'm not saying you made a bad play. Luck was just against you to-day. The door jammed, and Craddock was watching, and the simp you robbed howled.”

“It wath my fault for not watching out for Craddock,” Tham told her.

“Better be careful after this,” she said.

“Thay! I—I don't know what to do about thith,” declared Thubway Tham. He took the roll of bills from his pocket and his eyes bulged. It was indeed a haul worthy of effort. The howling victim had not lied.

“Some leather!” Nettie Burde acknowledged.

“And you are goin' to have half of it,” Tham declared. “You are not goin' to work for twenty dollarth a week. Ted Burde'th niethe can't do that.”

“Don't spoil everything, Tham, by offering to give me some of that money.”

“My goodneth, I don't underthtand you,” Tham said.

“You don't know much about girls, do you, Tham?”

“Nothin' at all,” Tham confessed.

“Well, I don't want any of that money, Tham. If you're grateful you might—might take me to dinner——”

“Thay! I'll give you the thwelletht feed in town and right thith evenin'!” Tham declared.

“That's better, Tham.”

“But I—I don't understand,” Tham said helplessly.

She looked up at him, glanced around quickly. And then her two arms went up swiftly and around Thubway Tham's neck, and Tham felt her soft lips pressed against his in a hurried kiss.

“Do you—can you understand that?” she whispered.

Then Thubway Tham had his great moment and felt his great thrill. Thubway Tham, with glistening eyes and trembling lips, set foot upon an unknown country.