The Prince and Betty

by P. G. Wodehouse

  CHAPTER XXV

  CORNERED

  He did not see John for a moment, and had reached the door of the roomwhen he became aware of a presence. He turned in surprise. He was asmallish, pale-faced man with protruding eyes and teeth which gave hima certain resemblance to a rabbit.

  "Hello!" he said.

  "Welcome to our city," said John, stepping unostentatiously between himand the stairs.

  Master Maloney, who had taken advantage of the interruption to edgeback into the center of things, now appeared to consider the questionof his departure permanently shelved. He sidled to a corner of thelanding, and sat down on an empty soap box with the air of a dramaticcritic at the opening night of a new play. The scene looked good tohim. It promised interesting developments. He was an earnest student ofthe drama, as exhibited in the theaters of the East Side, and few hadever applauded the hero of "Escaped from Sing Sing," or hissed thevillain of "Nellie, the Beautiful Cloak-model" with more fervor. Heliked his drama to have plenty of action, and to his practised eye thisone promised well. There was a set expression on John's face whichsuggested great things.

  His pleasure was abruptly quenched. John, placing a firm hand on hiscollar, led him to the top of the stairs and pushed him down.

  "Beat it," he said.

  The rent-collector watched these things with a puzzled eye. He nowturned to John.

  "Say, seen anything of the wops that live here?" he enquired. "Myname's Gooch. I've come to take the rent."

  John nodded.

  "I don't think there's much chance of your seeing them to-night," hesaid. "The father, I hear, is in prison. You won't get any rent out ofhim."

  "Then it's outside for theirs," said Mr. Gooch definitely.

  "What about the kid?" said John. "Where's he to go?"

  "That's up to him. Nothing to do with me. I'm only acting under ordersfrom up top."

  "Whose orders?" enquired John.

  "The gent who owns this joint."

  "Who is he?"

  Suspicion crept into the protruding eyes of the rent-collector.

  "Say!" he demanded. "Who are you anyway, and what do you think you'redoing here? That's what I'd like to know. What do you want with thename of the owner of this place? What business is it of yours?"

  "I'm a newspaper man."

  "I guessed you were," said Mr. Gooch with triumph. "You can't bluff me.Well, it's no good, sonny. I've nothing for you. You'd better chase offand try something else."

  He became more friendly.

  "Say, though," he said, "I just guessed you were from some paper. I wishI could give you a story, but I can't. I guess it's this _PeacefulMoments_ business that's been and put your editor on to this joint,ain't it? Say, though, that's a queer thing, that paper. Why, only a fewweeks ago it used to be a sort of take-home-and-read-to-the-kids affair.A friend of mine used to buy it regular. And then suddenly it comes outwith a regular whoop, and starts knocking these tenements and boostingKid Brady, and all that. It gets past me. All I know is that it's begunto get this place talked about. Why, you see for yourself how it is.Here is your editor sending you down to get a story about it. But, say,those _Peaceful Moments_ guys are taking big risks. I tell youstraight they are, and I know. I happen to be wise to a thing or twoabout what's going on on the other side, and I tell you there's goingto be something doing if they don't cut it out quick. Mr. Qem, thefellow who owns this place isn't the man to sit still and smile. He'sgoing to get busy. Say, what paper do you come from?"

  "_Peaceful Moments_," said John.

  For a moment the inwardness of the information did not seem to comehome to Mr. Gooch. Then it hit him. He spun round. John was standingsquarely between him and the stairs.

  "Hey, what's all this?" demanded Mr. Gooch nervously. The light was dimin the passage, but it was sufficiently light to enable him to seeJohn's face, and it did not reassure him.

  "I'll soon tell you," said John. "First, however, let's get thisbusiness of the kid's rent settled. Take it out of this and give me thereceipt."

  He pulled out a bill.

  "Curse his rent," said Mr. Gooch. "Let me pass."

  "Soon," said John. "Business before pleasure. How much does the kidhave to pay for the privilege of suffocating in this infernal place? Asmuch as that? Well, give me a receipt, and then we can get on to moreimportant things."

  "Let me pass."

  "Receipt," said John laconically.

  Mr. Gooch looked at the big stick, then scribbled a few words in hisnotebook and tore out the page. John thanked him.

  "I will see that it reaches him," he said. "And now will you kindlytell me the name of the man for whom you collected that money?"

  "Let me pass," bellowed Mr. Gooch. "I'll bring an action against youfor assault and battery. Playing a fool game like this! Get away fromthose stairs."

  "There has been no assault and battery--yet," said John. "Well, are yougoing to tell me?"

  Mr. Gooch shuffled restlessly. John leaned against the banisters.

  "As you said a moment ago," he observed, "the staff of _PeacefulMoments_ is taking big risks. I knew it before you told me. I havehad practical demonstration of the fact. And that is why this BrosterStreet thing has got to be finished quick. We can't afford to wait. SoI am going to have you tell me this man's name right now."

  "Help!" yelled Mr. Gooch.

  The noise died away, echoing against the walls. No answering cry camefrom below. Custom had staled the piquancy of such cries in BrosterStreet. If anybody heard it, nobody thought the matter worthinvestigation.

  "If you do that again," said John, "I'll break you in half. Now then! Ican't wait much longer. Get busy!"

  He looked huge and sinister to Mr. Gooch, standing there in theuncertain light; it was very lonely on that top floor and the rest ofthe world seemed infinitely far away. Mr. Gooch wavered. He was loyalto his employer, but he was still more loyal to Mr. Gooch.

  "Well?" said John.

  There was a clatter on the stairs of one running swiftly, and PugsyMaloney burst into view. For the first time since John had known him,Pugsy was openly excited.

  "Say, boss," he cried, "dey's coming!"

  "What? Who?"

  "Why, dem. I seen dem T'ree Pointers--Spider Reilly an'--"

  He broke off with a yelp of surprise. Mr. Gooch had seized hisopportunity, and had made his dash for safety. With a rush he divedpast John, nearly upsetting Pugsy, who stood in his path, and sprangdown the stairs. Once he tripped, but recovered himself, and in anotherinstant only the faint sound of his hurrying footsteps reached them.

  John had made a movement as if to follow, but the full meaning ofPugsy's words came upon him and he stopped.

  "Spider Reilly?" he said.

  "I guess it was Spider Reilly," said Pugsy, excitedly. "Dey called himSpider. I guess dey piped youse comin' in here. Gee! it's prettyfierce, boss, dis! What youse goin' to do?"

  "Where did you see them, Pugsy?"

  "On the street just outside. Dere was a bunch of dem spielin' togedder,and I hears dem say you was in here. Dere ain't no ways out but defront, so dey ain't hurryin'. Dey just reckon to pike along upstairs,peekin' inter each room till dey find you. An' dere's a bunch of demgoin' to wait on de street in case youse beat it past down de stairswhile de odder guys is rubberin' for youse. Gee, ain't dis de limit!"

  John stood thinking. His mind was working rapidly. Suddenly he smiled.

  "It's all right, Pugsy," he said. "It looks bad, but I see a way out.I'm going up that ladder there and through the trapdoor on to the roof.I shall be all right there. If they find me, they can only get at me oneat a time. And, while I'm there, here's what I want you to do."

  "Shall I go for de cops, boss?"

  "No, not the cops. Do you know where Dude Dawson lives?"

  The light of intelligence began to shine in Master Maloney's face. Hiseye glistened with approval. This was strategy of the right sort.

  "I can ask around," he said. "I'll soon find him all right."<
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  "Do, and as quick as you can. And when you've found him tell him thathis old chum, Spider Reilly, is here, with the rest of his crowd. Andnow I'd better be getting up on to my perch. Off you go, Pugsy, my son,and don't take a week about it. Good-by."

  Pugsy vanished, and John, going to the ladder, climbed out on to theroof with his big stick. He looked about him. The examination wassatisfactory. The trapdoor appeared to be the only means of access tothe roof, and between this roof and that of the next building there wasa broad gulf. The position was practically impregnable. Only one thingcould undo him, and that was, if the enemy should mount to the nextroof and shoot from there. And even then he would have cover in theshape of the chimney. It was a pity that the trap opened downward, forhe had no means of securing it and was obliged to allow it to hangopen. But, except for that, his position could hardly have beenstronger.

  As yet there was no sound of the enemy's approach. Evidently, as Pugsyhad said, they were conducting the search, room by room, in a thoroughand leisurely way. He listened with his ear close to the open trapdoor,but could hear nothing.

  A startled exclamation directly behind him brought him to his feet in aflash, every muscle tense. He whirled his stick above his head as heturned, ready to strike, then let it fall with a clatter. For there, abare yard away, stood Betty.