Yollop

by George Barr McCutcheon

  "The thing that's troubling me now," said Mr. Yollop, as Smilk hungup the receiver and twisted his head slightly to peek out of thecorner of his eye, "is how to get hold of my slippers. You've noidea how cold this floor is."

  "If it's half as cold as the sweat I'm---"

  "We're likely to have a long wait," went on the other, frowning. "Itwill probably take the police a couple of hours to find thisbuilding, with absolutely no clue except the number and the name ofthe street."

  "I'll tell you what you might do, Mr. Scollop, seein' as you won'ttrust me to go in and find your slippers for you. Why don't you siton your feet? Take that big arm chair over there and--"

  "Splendid! By jove, Cassius, you are an uncommonly clever chap. I'lldo it. And then, when the police arrive, we'll have something forthem to do. We'll let them see if they can find my slippers. Thatought to be really quite interesting."

  "There's something about you," said Mr. Smilk, not without a touchof admiration in his voice, "that I simply can't help liking."

  "That's what the wolf said to Little Red Riding-Hood, if I remembercorrectly. However, I thank you, Cassius. In spite of the thump Igave you and the disgusting way in which I treated you, a visitor inmy own house, you express a liking for me. It is most gratifying.Still, for the time being, I believe we can be much better friendsif I keep this pistol pointed at you. Now we 'll do a littlemaneuvering. You may remain seated where you are. However, I mustask you to pull out the two lower drawers in the desk,--one oneither side of where your knees go. You will find them quite emptyand fairly commodious. Now, put your right foot in the drawer onthis side and your left foot in the other one--yes, I know it'squite a stretch, but I dare say you can manage it. Sort of recallsthe old days when evil-doers were put in the stocks, doesn't it?They seem to be quite a snug fit, don't they? If it is as difficultfor you to extricate your feet from those drawers as it was toinsert them, I fancy I'm pretty safe from a sudden and impulsivedash in my direction. Rather bright idea of mine, eh?"

  "I'm beginnin' to change my opinion of you," announced Mr. Smilk.

  Mr. Yollop pushed a big unholstered library chair up to the oppositeside of the desk and, after several awkward attempts, succeeded insitting down, tailor fashion, with his feet neatly tucked awaybeneath him.

  "I wasn't quite sure I could do it," said he, rather proudly. "Isuppose my feet will go to sleep in a very short time, but I amassuming, Cassius, that you are too much of a gentleman to attack aman whose feet are asleep."

  "I wouldn't even attack you if they were snoring," said Cassius,grinning in spite of himself. "Say, this certainly beats anythingI've ever come up against. If one of my pals was to happen to lookin here right now and see me with my feet in these drawers and yousquattin' on yours,--well, I can't help laughin' myself, and Godknows I hate to."

  "You were saying a little while ago," said Mr. Yollop, shifting hisposition slightly, "that you rather fancy the idea of beingarrested. Isn't that a little quixotic, Mr. Smilk?"

  "Huh?"

  "I mean to say, do you expect me to believe you when you say yourelish being arrested?"

  "I don't care a whoop whether you believe it or not. It's true."

  "Have you no fear of the law?"

  "Bless your heart, sir, I don't know how I'd keep body and soultogether if it wasn't for the law. If people would only let the lawalone, I'd be one of the happiest guys on earth. But, damn 'em, theywon't let it alone. First, they put their heads together and frameup this blasted parole game on us. Just about the time we begin tothink we're comfortably settled up the river, 'long comes somedoggone home-wrecker and gets us out on parole. Then we got to go towork and begin all over again. Sometimes, the way things arenowadays, it takes months to get back into the pen again. We got tolive, ain't we? We got to eat, ain't we? Well, there you are. Whycan't they leave us alone instead of drivin' us out into a cold,unfeelin' world where we got to either steal or starve to death?There wouldn't be one tenth as much stealin' and murderin' as thereis if they didn't force us into it. Why, doggone it, I've seen someof the most cruel and pitiful sights you ever heard of up there atSing Sing. Fellers leadin' a perfectly honest life suddenly chuckedout into a world full of vice and iniquity and forced--absolutelyforced,--into a life of crime. There they were, livin' a quiet,peaceful life, harmin' nobody, and bing! they wake up some mornin'and find themselves homeless. Do you realize what that means, Mr.Strumpet? It means--"

  "Yollop, if you please."

  "It means they got to go out and slug some innocent citizen, somepoor guy that had nothing whatever to do with drivin' them out, andthen if they happen to be caught they got to go through with all theuncertainty of a trial by jury, never knowin' but what somepin-headed juror will stick out for acquittal and make it necessaryto go through with it all over again. And more than that, they gotto listen to the testimony of a lot of policemen, and their ownderned fool lawyers, tryin' to deprive them of their bread andbutter, and the judge's instructions that nobody pays any attentionto except the shorthand reporter,--and them just settin' there sortof helpless and not even able to say a word in their own behalfbecause the law says they're innocent till they're proved guilty,--why,I tell you, Mr. Dewlap, it's heart-breakin'. And all becausesome weak-minded smart aleck gets them paroled. As I was sayin', thelaw's all right if it wasn't for the people that abuse it."

  "This is most interesting," said Mr. Yollop. "I've never quiteunderstood why ninety per cent of the paroled convicts go back tothe penitentiary so soon after they've been liberated."

  "Of course," explained Mr. Smilk, "there are a few that don't getback. That's because, in their anxiety to make good, they get killedby some inexperienced policeman who catches 'em comin' out ofsomebody's window or--"

  "By the way, Cassius, let me interrupt you. Will you have a cigar?Nice, pleasant way to pass an hour or two--beg pardon?"

  "I was only sayin', if you don't mind I'll take one of thesecigarettes. Cigars are a little too heavy for me."

  "I have some very light grade domestic--"

  "I don't mean in quality. I mean in weight. What's the sense ofwastin' a lot of strength holding a cigar in your mouth when itrequires no effort at all to smoke a cigarette? Why, I got it allfigured out scientifically. With the same amount of energy youexpend in smokin' one cigar you could smoke between thirty and fortycigarettes, and being sort of gradual, you wouldn't begin to feelhalf as fatigued as if you--"

  "Did I understand you to say 'scientifically', or was itsatirically?"

  "I'm tryin' to use common, every-day words, Mr. Shallop," said Mr.Smilk, with dignity, "and I wish you'd do the same."

  "Ahem! Well, light up, Cassius. I think I'll smoke a cigar. When youget through with the matches, push 'em over this way, will you? Helpyourself to those chocolate creams. There's a pound box of them atyour elbow, Cassius. I eat a great many. They're supposed to befattening. Help yourself." After lighting his cigar Mr. Yollopinquired: "By the way, since you speak so feelingly I gather thatyou are a paroled convict."

  "That's what I am. And the worst of it is, it ain't my firstoffense. I mean it ain't the first time I've been paroled. To beginwith, when I was somewhat younger than I am now, I was twice turnedloose by judges on what they call 'suspended sentences.' Then I wassent up for two years for stealin' something or other,--I forgotjust what it was. I served my time and a little later on went upagain for three years for holdin' up a man over in Brooklyn. Well, Igot paroled out inside of two years, and for nearly six months I hadto report to the police ever' so often. Every time I reported I hadmy pockets full of loot I'd snitched durin' the month, stuff thebulls were lookin' for in every pawn-shop in town, but to save mysoul I couldn't somehow manage to get myself caught with the goodson me. Say, I'd give two years off of my next sentence if I couldcross my legs for five or ten minutes. This is gettin' worse andworse all the--"

  "You might try putting your left foot in the right hand drawer andyour right foot in the other one," suggested Mr. Yollop.

 
; Mr. Smilk stared. "I've seen a lot of kidders in my time, but youcertainly got 'em all skinned to death," said he.

  Mr. Yollop puffed reflectively for awhile, pondering the situation."Well, suppose you remove one foot at a time, Cassius. As soon it isfairly well rested, put it back again and then take the other oneout for a spell,--and so on. Half a loaf is better than no loaf atall."

  Smilk withdrew his left foot from its drawer and sighed gratefully.

  "As I was sayin'," he resumed, "if we could only put some kind of acurb on these here tender-hearted boobs--and boobesses--the worldwould be a much better place to live in. The way it is now, ninetenths of the fellers up in Sing Sing never know when they'll haveto pack up and leave, and it's a constant strain on the nerves, Itell you. There seems to be a well-organized movement to interferewith the personal liberty of criminals, Mr. Poppup. These heresentimental reformers take it upon themselves to say whether afeller shall stay in prison or not. First, they come up there andpick out some poor helpless feller and say 'it's a crime to keep agood-lookin', intelligent boy like you in prison, so we're going toget you out on parole and make an honest, upright citizen of you.We're going to get you a nice job',--and so on and so forth. Well,before he knows it, he's out and has to put up a bluff of workin'for a livin'. Course, he just has to go to stealin' again. It makeshim sore when he thinks of the good, honest life he was leadin' upthere in the pen, with nothin' to worry about, satisfactory hours,plenty to eat, and practically divorced from his wife without havin'to go through the mill. If my calculations are correct, more thanfifty per cent of the crime that's bein' committed these days is thework of paroled convicts who depended on the law to protect andsupport them for a given period of time. And does the law protectthem? It does not. It allows a lot of pinheads to interfere with it,and what's the answer? A lot of poor devils are forced to go out andrisk their lives tryin' to--"

  "Just a moment, please," interrupted Mr. Yollop. "You are talking atrifle too fast, Cassius. Moderate your speed a little. Before we goany further, I would like to be set straight on one point. Do youmean to tell me that you actually prefer being in prison?"

  "Well, now, that's a difficult question to answer," mused Mr. Smilk."Sometimes I do and sometimes I don't. It's sort of like beingmarried, I suppose. Sometimes you're glad you're married andsometimes you wish to God you wasn't. Course, I've only been marriedthree or four times, and I've been in the pen six times, one placeor another, so I guess I'm not what you'd call an unbiased witness.I seem to have a leanin' toward jail,--about three to one in favorof jail, you might say, with the odds likely to be increased prettyshortly if all goes well. Do you mind if I change drawers?"

  "Eh! Oh, I see. Go ahead."

  Mr. Smilk put his right foot back into its drawer and withdrew theleft.

  "Gets you right across this tendon on the back of your ankle," hesaid. "Now, you take the daily life of the average laboring man," hewent on earnestly. "What does he get out of it? Nothin' butexpenses. The only thing that don't cost him something is work. Andall the time he's at work his expenses are goin' on just the same,pilin' up durin' his absence from home. Rent, food, fuel, light,doctor, liquor, clothes, shoes,--everything pilin' up on him whilehe's workin' for absolutely nothin' between pay days. The only timehe gets anything for his work is on pay day. The rest of the timehe's workin' for nothin', week in and week out. Say he worksforty-four hours a week. When does he get his pay? While he'sworkin'? Not much. He has to work over time anywhere from fifteenminutes to half an hour--on his own time, mind you--standin' in lineto get his pay envelope. And then when he gets it, what does he haveto do? He has to go home and wonder how the hell he's goin' to getthrough the next week with nothin' but carfare to go on after hiswife has told him to come across. Now you take a convict. He hasn'tan expense in the world. Free grub, free bed, free doctor, freeclothes,--he could have free liquor if the keepers would let hisfriends bring it in,--and his hours ain't any longer than any unionman's hours. He don't have to pay dues to any labor union, he don'thave to worry about strikes or strike benefits, he don't give awhoop what Gompers or anybody else says about Gary, and he don'tcare a darn whether the working man gets his beer or whether therevenue officers get it. He--"

  "Wait a second, please. Just as a matter of curiosity, Cassius, I'dlike to know what your views are on prohibition."

  "Are you thinkin' of askin' me if I'll have something to drink?"inquired Mr. Smilk craftily.

  "What has that to do with it?"

  "A lot," said Mr. Smilk, with decision.

  "Do you approve of prohibition?"

  "I do," said the rogue. "In moderation."

  "Well, as soon as the police arrive I'll open a bottle of Scotch. Inthe meantime go ahead with your very illuminating dissertation. I ambeginning to understand why crime is so attractive, so alluring. Iam almost able to see why you fellows like to go to thepenitentiary."

  "If you could only get shut up for a couple of years, Mr. Wollop,you'd appreciate just what has been done in the last few years tomake us fellers like it. You wouldn't believe how much the reformershave done to induce us to come back as soon as possible. They giveus all kinds of entertainment, free of charge. Three times a week wehave some sort of a show, generally a band concert, a movin' pictureshow and a vaudeville show. Then, once a month they bring up somecrackin' good show right out of a Broadway theater to make us forgetthat it's Sunday and we'll have to go to work the next morning.Scenery and costumes and everything and--and--" Here Mr. Smilkshowed signs of blubbering, a weakness that suddenly gave way to themost energetic indignation. "Why, doggone it, every time I think ofwhat that woman done to me, I could bite a nail in two. If it hadn'tbeen for--"

  "Woman? What woman?"

  "The woman that got me paroled out. She got I don't know how manypeople to sign a petition, sayin' I was a fine feller and all thatkind o' bunk, and all I needed was a chance to show the world howhonest I am and--why, of course, I was honest. How could I helpbein' honest up there? What's eatin' the darn fools? The only thingyou can steal up there is a nap, and you got to be mighty slick ifyou want to do that, they watch you so close. But do you know what'sgoing on in this country right now, Mr. Popple? There's a regularorganized band of law-breakers operating from one end of the nationto the other. We're tryin' to bust it up, but it's a tough job. Thebest way to reform a reformer is to rob him. The minute he finds outhe's been robbed he turns over a new leaf and begins to beller likea bull about how rotten the police are. Ninety nine times out of ahundred he quits his cussed interferin' with the law and becomes adecent, law-observin' citizen. Our scheme is to get busy as soon aswe've been turned loose and while our so-called benefactors arestill rejoicin' over havin' snatched a brand from the burnin', we upand show 'em the error of their ways. First offenders get off fairlyeasy. We simply sneak in and take their silver and some loosejewelry. The more hardened they are, the worse we treat 'em. Ringleaders some times get beat up so badly it's impossible to identify'em at the morgue. But in time we'll smash the gang, and then if afeller goes up for ten, twenty or even thirty years he'll knowthere's no underhanded work goin' on and he can settle down to anhonest life. The only way to stop crime in this country, Mr. Yollop,is to--"

  "Thank you."

  "--is to make EVERYBODY respect the law. And with conditions sopleasant and so happy in the prison I want to tell you there'snobody in the country that respects and admires the law more than wedo,--'specially us fellers that remember what the penitentiariesused to be like a few years ago when conditions were so tough thatmost of us managed to earn an honest livin' outside sooner than runthe risk of gettin' sent up." He sighed deeply. Then with a trace ofreal solicitude in his manner: "Are your feet warm yet?"

  "Warm as toast. Your discourse, Cassius, has moved me deeply.Perhaps it would comfort you to call up police headquarters againand tell 'em to hurry along?"

  "Wouldn't be a bad idea," said Mr. Smilk. He took down the receiver.Presently: "Police headquarters? ... How about sending over
to 418Sagamore for that burglar I was speakin' to you about recently? ...Sure, he's here yet. ... The same name I gave you earlier in theevening. ... Spell it yourself. You got it written down on a padright there in front of you, haven't you? ... Say, if you don't getsomebody around here pretty quick, I'm goin' to call up two or threeof the newspaper offices and have 'em send--... All right. See thatyou do." Turning to Mr. Yollop, he said: "The police are a prettydecent lot when you get to know 'em, Mr. Yollop. They do their sharetowards enforcin' the law. They do their best to get us the limit.The trouble is, they got to fight tooth and nail against almosteverybody that ain't on the police force. Specially jurymen. Thereain't a juryman in New York City that wants to believe a policemanon oath. He'd sooner believe a crook, any day. And sometimes thejudges are worse than the juries. A pal of mine, bein' inconsiderable of a hurry to get back home one very cold winter,figured that if he went up and plead guilty before a judge he'd savea lot of time. Well, sir, the doggone judge looked him over for aminute or two, and suddenly, out of a clear sky, asked him if he hada family,--and when he acknowledged, being an honest though ignorantguy, that he had a wife and three children, the judge said, if he'dpromise to go out and earn a livin' for them he'd let him off with asuspended sentence, and before he had a chance to say he'd be damnedif he'd make any such fool promise, the bailiff hustled him out therunway and told him to 'beat it'. He had to go out and slug a poorold widow woman and rob her of all the money she'd saved since herhusband died--say, that reminds me. I got a favor I'd like to askof you, Mr. Yollop."

  "I'm inclined to grant almost any favor you may ask," said Mr.Yollop, sympathetically. "I know how miserable you must feel,Cassius, and how hard life is for you. Do you want me to shoot you?"

  "No, I don't," exclaimed Mr. Smilk hastily. "I want you to take myroll of bills and hide it before the police come. That ain't much toask, is it?"

  "Bless my soul! How extraordinary!"

  "There's something over six hundred dollars in the roll," went onCassius confidentially. "It ain't that I'm afraid the cops will grabit for themselves, understand. But, you see, it's like this. Thefirst thing the judge asks you when you are arraigned is whether yougot the means to employ a lawyer. If you ain't, he appoints some oneand it don't cost you a cent. Now, if I go down to the Tombs withall this money, why, by gosh, it will cost me just that much to getsent to Sing Sing, 'cause whatever you've got in the shape of realmoney is exactly what your lawyer's fee will be, and it don't seemsensible to spend all that money to get sent up when you can obtainthe same result for nothin'. Ain't that so?"

  "It sounds reasonable, Cassius. You appear to be a thrifty as wellas an honest fellow. But, may I be permitted to ask what the devilyou are doing with six hundred dollars on your person while activelyengaged in the pursuit of your usual avocation? Why didn't you leaveit at home?"

  "Home? My God, man, don't you know it ain't safe these days to havea lot of money around the house? With all these burglaries going on?Not on your life. Even if I had had all this dough when I left hometo-night, I wouldn't have taken any such chance as leavin' it there.The feller I'm roomin' with is figurin' on turning over a new leaf;he's thinkin' of gettin' married for five or six months and I don'tthink he could stand temptation."

  "Do you mean to say, you acquired your roll after leaving hometonight, eh?"

  "To be perfectly honest with you, Mr. Moppup, I--"

  "Yollop, please."

  "--Yollop, I found this money in front of a theater up town,--justafter the police nabbed a friend of mine who had frisked some guy ofhis roll and had to drop it in a hurry."

  "And you want me to keep it for you till you are free again,--isthat it?"

  "Just as soon as the trial is over and I get my sentence, I'll senda pal of mine around to you with a note and you can turn it over tohim. All I'm after, is to keep some lawyer from gettin'--"

  "What would you say, Cassius, if I were to tell you that I am alawyer?"

  "I'd say you're a darned fool to confess when you don't have to,"replied Mr. Smilk succinctly.

  Mr. Yollop chuckled. "Well, I'm not a lawyer. Nevertheless, I mustdecline to act as a depository for your obviously ill-gotten gains."

  "Gee, that's tough," lamented Mr. Smilk. "Wouldn't you just let medrop it behind something or other,--that book case over theresay,--and I'll promise to send for it some night when you're out,--"

  "No use, Cassius," broke in Mr. Yollop, firmly. "I'm deaf to yourentreaties. Permit me to paraphrase a very well-known line. 'None sodeaf as him who will not hear.'"

  "If I speak very slowly and distinctly don't you think you couldhear me if I was to offer to split the wad even withyou,--fifty-fifty,--no questions asked?" inquired Cassius, ratherwistfully.

  "See here," exclaimed Mr. Yollop, irritably; "you got me in thisposition and I want you to get me out of it. While I've beensquatting here listening to you, they've both gone to sleep and I'mhanged if I can move 'em. I never would have dreamed of sitting onthem if you hadn't put the idea into my head, confound you."

  "Let 'em hang down for a while," suggested Mr. Smilk. "That'll wake'em up."

  "Easier said than done," snapped the other. He managed, however, toget his benumbed feet to the floor and presently stood up on them.Mr. Smilk watched him with interest as he hobbled back and forth infront of the desk. "They'll be all right in a minute or two. ByJove, I wish my sister could have heard all you've been saying aboutprisons and paroles and police. I ought to have had sense enough tocall her. She's asleep at the other end of the hall."

  "I hate women," growled Mr. Smilk. "Ever since that pie-faced damegot me chucked out of Sing Sing,--say, let me tell you somethingelse she done to me. She gave me an address somewhere up on the EastSide and told me to come and see her as soon as I got out. Well, Ihadn't been out a week when I went up to see her one night,--or,more strictly speakin', one morning about two o'clock. What do youthink? It was an empty house, with a 'for rent' sign on it. I foundout the next day she'd moved a couple of weeks before and had goneto some hotel for the winter because it was impossible to keep anyservants while this crime wave is goin' on. The janitor told meshe'd had three full sets of servants stole right out from under hernose by female bandits over on Park Avenue. I don't suppose I'llever have another chance to get even with her. Everything all set tobind and gag her, and maybe rap her over the bean a couple of timesand--say, can you beat it for rotten luck? She--she double-crossedme, that's what she--"

  A light, hesitating rap on the library door interrupted Mr. Smilk'sbitter reflection.

  CHAPTER THREE