The Big-Town Round-Up

by William MacLeod Raine

  CHAPTER IV

  A NEW USE FOR A WATER HOSE

  The motor-bus ran up Fifth Avenue, cut across to Broadway, passedColumbus Circle, and swept into the Drive. It was a day divinely youngand fair. The fragrance of a lingering spring was wafted to thenostrils. Only the evening before the trees had been given a bath ofrain and the refreshment of it showed in every quivering leaf. Fromits little waves the Hudson reflected a million sparkles of light.Glimpses of the Park tempted Clay. Its winding paths! The childrenplaying on the grass while their maids in neat caps and aprons gossipedtogether on the benches near! This was the most human spot the manfrom Arizona had seen in the metropolis.

  Somewhere in the early three-figure streets he descended from the topof the bus and let his footsteps follow his inclinations into the Park.A little shaver in a sailor suit ran across the path and fell sprawlingat the feet of Clay. He picked up and began to comfort the howlingfour-year-old.

  "That sure was a right hard fall, sonny, but you're not goin' to makeany fuss about it. You're Daddy's little man and--"

  A sharp, high voice cut into his consolation.

  "Cedric, come here!"

  The little boy went, bawling lustily to win sympathy. The nursemaidshook him impatiently. "How many times have I told you to look whereyou're going? Serves you just right. Now be still."

  There was a deep instinct in Clay to stand by those in trouble whenthey were weak. A child or a woman in distress always had a claim onhim.

  "I reckon the li'l' fellow was in a hurry, Miss," he said, smiling. "I'most always was at his age. But he ain't hurt much."

  The maid looked Clay up and down scornfully before she turned her backon him and began to talk with another nurse.

  Beneath the tan of the range-rider's cheeks the color flamed. Thisyoung woman had not mistaken the friendliness of the West for theimpudence of a street masher. The impulse of snobbery had expresseditself in her action.

  The cowpuncher followed a path that took him back to the street. Hegrinned, but there was no smile in his heart. He was ashamed of thisyoung woman who could meet good-will with scorn, and he wanted to getaway from her without any unnecessary delay. What were the folks likein this part of the country that you couldn't speak to them withoutgetting insulted?

  He struck across the Drive into a side street. An apartment houseoccupied the corner, but from the other side a row of handsome privatedwellings faced him.

  The janitor of the apartment house was watering the parking beyond thesidewalk. The edge of the stream from the nozzle of the hose sprayedthe path in front of Clay. He hesitated for a moment to give the mantime to turn aside the hose.

  But the janitor on this particular morning had been fed up withtrouble. One of the tenants had complained of him to the agent of theplace. Another had moved away without tipping him for an hour's helpin packing he had given her. He was sulkily of the opinion that thewhole world was in a conspiracy to annoy him. Just now the approachingrube typified the world.

  A little flirt of the hose deluged Clay's newly shined boots and thelower six inches of his trousers.

  "Look out what you're doing!" protested the man from Arizona.

  "I tank you better look where you're going," retorted the one fromSweden. He was a heavy-set, muscular man with a sullen, obstinate face.

  "My shoes and trousers are sopping wet."

  "Yust you bate it oop street. I ant look for no trouble with no rubes."

  "I believe you did it on purpose."

  "Tank so? Val, yust one teng I lak to tell you. I got no time fordamn fule talk."

  The Westerner started on his way. There was no use having a row with asulky janitor.

  But the Swede misunderstood his purpose. At Clay's first step forwardhe jerked round the nozzle and let the range-rider have it with fullforce.

  Clay was swept back to the wall by the heavy pressure of water thatplayed over him. The stream moved swiftly up and down him from head tofoot till it had drenched every inch of the perfect fifty-five-dollarsuit. He drowned fathoms deep in a water spout. He was swept overNiagara Falls. He came to life again to find himself the chokingcenter of a world flood. He sputtered furiously while his arms flailedlike windmills to keep back the river of water that engulfed him.

  The thought that brought him back to action was one that had to do withthe blue serge. The best fifty-five-dollar suit in New York was ruinedin this submarine disaster.

  He gave a strangled whoop and charged straight at the man behind thehose. The two clinched. While they struggled, the writhing hoseslapped back and forth between them like an agitated snake. Clay hadone advantage. He was wet through anyhow. It did not matter how muchof the deluge struck him. The janitor fought to keep dry and he hadnot a chance on earth to succeed.

  For one hundred and seventy-five pounds of Arizona bone and muscle,toughened by years of hard work in sun and wind, had clamped itselfupon him. The nozzle twisted toward the janitor. He ducked, wentdown, and was instantly submerged. When he tried to rise, the streambeat him back. He struggled halfway up, slipped, got again to hisfeet, and came down sitting with a hard bump when his legs skated fromunder him.

  A smothered "Vat t'ell!" rose out of the waters. It was both a yelp ofrage and a wail of puzzled chagrin. The janitor could not understandwhat was happening to him. He did not know that he was being treatedto a new form of the water cure.

  Before his dull brain had functioned to action an iron grip had him bythe back of the neck. He was jerked to his feet and propelled forwardto the curb. Every inch of the way the heavy stream from the nozzlebroke on his face and neck. It paralyzed his resistance, jarred him sothat he could not gather himself to fight. He was still sputtering "Bydamn," when Clay bumped him up against a hitching-post, garroted him,and swung the hose around the post in such a way as to encircle thefeet of the man.

  The cowpuncher drew the hose tight, slipped the nozzle through the ironring, and caught the flapping arms of the man to his body. With thedeft skill of a trained roper Clay swung the rubber pipe round the bodyof the man again and again, drawing it close to the post and knottingit securely behind. The Swede struggled, but his furious rage availedhim nothing. He was in the hands of the champion roper of GrahamCounty, a man who had hogtied a wild hill steer in thirty-three secondsby the watch.

  It took longer than this to rope up the husky janitor with a squirminghose, but when Clay stepped back to inspect his job he knew he waslooking at one that had been done thoroughly.

  "I keel you, by damn, ef you don't turn me loose!" roared the big manin a rage.

  The range-rider grinned gayly at him. He was having the time of hisyoung life. He did not even regret his fifty-five-dollar suit.Already he could see that Arizona had nothing on New York when it cameto getting action for your money.

  "Life's just loaded to the hocks with disappointment, Olie," heexplained, and his voice was full of genial sympathy. "I'll bet adollar Mex you'd sure like to beat me on the haid with a two by four.But I don't reckon you'll ever get that fond wish gratified. We're notliable to meet up with each other again _pronto_. To-day we're hereand to-morrow we're at Yuma, Arizona, say, for life is short and darnedfleeting as the poet fellow says."

  He waved a hand jauntily and turned to go. But he changed his mind.His eye had fallen on a young woman standing at a French window of thehouse opposite. She was beckoning to him imperiously.

  The young woman disappeared as he crossed the street, but in a fewmoments the door opened and she stood there waiting for him. Claystared. He had never before seen a girl dressed like this. She was inriding-boots, breeches, and coat. Her eyes dilated while she looked athim.

  "Wyoming?" she asked at last in a low voice.

  "Arizona," he answered.

  "All one. Knew it the moment I saw you tie him. Come in." She stoodaside to let him pass.

  That hall, with its tapestried walls, its polished floors, and Orientalrugs, was reminiscent o
f "the movies" to Clay. Nowhere else had heseen a home so stamped with the mark of ample means.

  "Come in," she ordered again, a little sharply.

  He came in and she closed the door.

  "I'm sopping wet. I'll drip all over the floor."

  "What are you going to do? You'll be arrested, you know." She stoodstraight and slim as a boy, and the frank directness of her gaze had aboy's sexless unconsciousness.

  "Thought I'd give myself up to the marshal."

  She laughed outright at this. "Not in this town. A stranger like youwould have no chance. Listen." There came to them from outside thetap-tap-tap-tap of a policeman's night stick rattling on the curbstone."He's calling help."

  "I can explain how it happened."

  "No. He wouldn't understand. They'd find you guilty."

  He moved from the rug where he was standing to let the water drip onthe hardwood floor.

  "Sho! Folks are mostly reasonable. I'd tell the judge how it comeabout."

  "No."

  "Well, I can't stay here."

  "Yes--till they've gone."

  Her imperative warmed his heart, but he tried to explain gently why hecould not. "I can't drag you into this. Like as not the Swede saw mecome in."

  To a manservant standing in the background the young woman spoke."Jenkins, have Nora clean up the floor and the steps outside. Andremember--I don't want the police to know this gentleman is here."

  "Yes, Miss."

  "Come!" said the girl to her guest. She led Clay to the massivestairway, but stopped at the first tread to call back an order over hershoulder. "Refer the officers to me if they insist on coming into thehouse."

  "I'll see to it, Miss."

  Clay followed his hostess to the stairs and went up them with her, buthe went protesting, though with a chuckle of mirth. "He sure ruined myclothes a heap. I ain't fit to be seen."

  The suit he had been so proud of was shrinking so that his arms andlegs stuck out like signposts. The color had run and left the goods apeculiar bilious-looking overall blue.

  She lit a gas-log in a small library den.

  "Just a minute, please."

  She stepped briskly from the room. In her manner was a crisp decision,in her poise a trim gallantry that won him instantly.

  "I'll bet she'd do to ride with," he told himself in a current Westernidiom.

  When she came back it was to take him to a dressing-room. A completechange of clothing was laid out for him on a couch. A man whom Clayrecognized as a valet--he had seen his duplicate in the moving-picturetheaters at Tucson--was there to supply his needs and attend to thetemperature of his bath.

  "Stevens will look after you," she said; "when you are ready come backto Dad's den."

  His eyes followed to the door her resilient step. Once, when he was aboy, he had seen Ada Rehan play in "As You Like It." Her acting hadentranced him. This girl carried him back to that hour. She wasboyish as Rosalind, woman in every motion of her slim and lissom body.

  At the head of the stairway she paused. Jenkins was moving hurriedlyup to meet her.

  "It's a policeman, Miss. 'E's come about the--the person that came in,and 'e's talkin' to Nora on the steps. She's a-jollyin' 'im, as youmight say, Miss."

  His young mistress nodded. She swept the hall with the eye of ageneral. Swiftly she changed the position of a Turkish rug so as tohide a spot on the polished floor that had been recently scrubbed andwas still moist. It seemed best to discover Nora's plan of campaignbefore taking over the charge of affairs.

  "Many's the time I've met yuh goin' down the Avenoo with your heelsclickin' an' your head high," came the rich brogue of Nora O'Flannigan."An' I've said to myself, sez I, who's the handsome officer that setsoff his uniform so gr-rand?"

  The girl leaned on her mop and gave the policeman a slant glance out ofeyes of Irish brown. It was not Nora's fault that she was as pretty acolleen as ever came out of Limerick, but there was no law that madeher send such a roguish come-hither look at the man in blue.

  He beamed. He was as pleased as a cat that has been stroked and fedcream.

  "Well, an' yuh 're not the only wan that notices, Miss Nora. I'm anoticin' lad mesilf. An' it's the truth that I'd be glad enough tomeet yuh some fine evenin' when I'm off duty. But about thisstrong-arm guy that tied up the janitor. The Swede says he went intowan av these houses. Now here's the wet color from his suit that ranover the steps. He musta come up here."

  "Before he ran down the street. Sure, an' that's just what he done.Yuh're a janious, officer."

  "Maybe he got into the house somehow."

  "Now, how could he do that? With all av us upstairs and down."

  "I don't say he did. But if I was to just take a look inside so as toreport that I'd searched--"

  "Och! Yuh 'd be wastin' your time, officer."

  "Sure, I know that. But for the report--"

  The young woman in the riding costume chose this moment to open thedoor and saunter out.

  "Does the officer want something, Nora?" she asked innocently,switching the end of a crop against her riding-boots.

  "Yes, Miss. There's been a ruffian batin' up Swedes an' tyin' 'em toposts. This officer thinks he came here," explained Nora.

  "Does he want to look in the house?"

  "Yes, Miss."

  "Then let him come in." The young mistress took the responsibility onher own shoulders. She led the policeman into the hall. "I don'treally see how he could have got in here without some of us seeing him,officer."

  "No, ma'am. I don't see how he could." The patrolman scratched hisred head. "The janitor's a Swede, anyhow. He jist guessed it. I cameto make sure av it. I'll be sorry for troubling yuh, Miss."

  The smile she gave him was warm and friendly. "Oh, that's all right.If you'd care to look around. . . . But there really is no use."

  "No." The forehead under the red thatch wrinkled in thought. "He saidhe seen him come in here or next door, an' he came up the steps. Butnobody could have got in without some of youse seein' him. That's alead pipe." The officer pushed any doubt that remained from his mind."Only a muddle-headed Swede."

  "It was good of you to come. It makes us feel safer to have officerslike you. If you'll give me your name I'll call up the precinctcaptain and tell him so."

  The man in uniform turned beet red. "McGuffey, Miss, and it's apleasure to serve the likes of yuh," he said, pleased and embarrassed.

  He bowed himself out backward, skidded on the polished floor, and savedhimself from going down by a frantic fling of arms and some fancyskating. When he recovered, his foot caught in a rug and wadded it toa knot.

  Nora giggled behind her fingers, but her mistress did not even smile atthe awkwardness of Patrolman McGuffey.

  "Thank you _so_ much," she said sweetly.