The Thubway Tham Megapack

by Johnston McCulley

  Thubway Tham wondered how big the haul would be. He found that his imagination and curiosity were working overtime. Possibly what he got in the way of swag would be of such value that he could cease his practice in the subway for a few weeks while the police were showing such pernicious activity.

  He decided that he would use his old and often-tried-and-proved tactics. As soon as the train stopped and the door slipped open, he would thrust himself sharply against the other man, his nimble fingers would do their work, he would growl an apology, and then rush from the train and up to the street. There he would get rid of the leather and then investigate what it had contained.

  What could it be—currency, diamonds, securities that could be marketed easily? That conversation between Joe and Tom had opened Tham’s mind to a lot of possibilities. Well—he would soon know all about it! Thubway Tham had often been curious before, but never had his curiosity mounted to such heights as this.

  He prepared for his work. And then came disaster! His prospective victim deliberately buttoned his coat and folded his arms across his breast and rocked back and forth with the motion of the train!

  Thubway Tham forgot himself and muttered growlingly. The train dashed into the station, the doors flew open, and Thubway Tham’s prospective victim stepped out upon the platform. Thubway Tham followed. He was like a beast cheated of prey. Had his curiosity not been aroused to such an extent, he probably would have laughed and turned aside to look for another victim. But he was eager to know what was in that man’s coat pocket. He judged that it was something of great value. If it was, then Tham wanted to get it.

  He followed his man up to the street. Thubway Tham always had made a point of working in the subway, and rarely did he indulge in professional activities anywhere else, but he felt that this was a special occasion.

  For three blocks the man ahead walked briskly, Thubway Tham shadowing him from a short distance. And then Tham’s quarry turned into a magnificent building which, Tham knew well, housed large corporations.

  Tham, thoroughly disgusted, lighted a cigarette and waited. But he judged it did no good to wait. Whatever had been in that inside coat pocket probably was being delivered to some office in that building. Tham decided. Still, he waited. His curiosity compelled him to do that.

  His cigarette was finished just as he saw his quarry emerge from the big building and turn up the street. Thubway Tham resumed the chase. The man’s coat was unbuttoned again now, and Tham wondered whether the thing of value was still in the inside pocket. He felt that it was not, but still he followed.

  The man ahead approached a subway entrance, and Thubway Tham rejoiced. Moreover, there was double reason for rejoicing, for the man he followed once more made that suspicious movement—raised his right hand and pressed it against his breast. The thing of value was still in his pocket!

  Hope renewed came to Thubway Tham. He hastened forward and got nearer his man. If he went into the subway and caught an uptown train, he was Tham’s meat!

  But it seemed that evil forces were working against Tham this day. Even as the man ahead started down the subway stairs, Tham heard a voice close beside him.

  “If it isn’t Tham!” the voice said. And Thubway Tham turned his head to find Detective Craddock grinning at him.

  He cursed softly. He knew better than to continue following his man now. Detective Craddock, who had sworn to catch him “with the goods”, was nobody’s fool. He knew how a pickpocket worked, and unless Tham was very careful he would know that a prospective victim was being trailed. Tham was forced to allow his man to go down into the subway alone.

  “Tho I thee your ugly fathe yet onthe again, do I?” he said to Craddock, with some nastiness in his manner.

  “Even so, Tham, old-timer. Why all the haste? If you are thinking of taking a little ride in the subway, let me go along for company. I’m lonesome, Tham.”

  “Yeth?” Thubway Tham said sneeringly. “I altho get lonethome at timeth, but never tho lonethome that I want you trailin’ around with me, you thimp!”

  “Why, Tham! How utterly unkind that is!” Detective Craddock exclaimed. “After our having been friends for such a long time, too! Is the Damon and Pythias stuff to come to an end?”

  “It ith gettin’ to be a bum town, Craddock, when I can’t take a thtep here and there without bein’ pethtered by you!”

  “Tham, old boy, it is not the little step here and there that annoys us of the municipal police,” Craddock told him. “It is what you do when the little step is over and you pause. Certain gentlemen have been complaining lately that it is getting to be a common occurrence to enter the subway with a wallet in a pocket and emerge without any wallet at all.”

  “My goodnethth! What hath that to do with me?”

  “Oh, Tham!” Craddock gasped out. “Do not tell me that you fail to understand!”

  “I thuppothe you think that you are very clever today!” Tham said with a sneer, “If you are clever, Craddock, then I am a withard! If you are clever, thome perthonth who are bein’ called idiotth thhould thue for damageth! If you are thane and clever, Craddock, there are folkth in the bughouthe who thhould be roamin’ the thtreetth!”

  “Why, Tham, what a tirade!” said Detective Craddock. “Look you, how you storm, as the poet has it!”

  “Thimp!”

  “I fail to understand the reason for this peculiar attitude of yours, Tham. It is possible that I have approached you at a moment inopportune? Have I, for instance, spoiled some little plan, or something like that?”

  “I haven’t thaid tho!” Tham remarked.

  “Of course, I noticed that you were in a hurry. And your eyes, I believe, were cast in the general direction of three or four prosperous gentlemen hurrying toward the subway. You did not intend to annoy any of them, did you, Tham?”

  “Thay!” Thubway Tham gasped out. “You make more noithe than a phonograph record! I thuppothe you are talkin’ about thomething, but I do not know what it ith all about. Don’t you ever work?”

  “I am working right now, Tham,”

  “How ith that?”

  “While I am talking to you, Tham, the chances that citizens will lose their wallets are slimmer.”

  “Tho?”

  “So; likewise, exactly, and precisely,” Detective Craddock replied. “Did you say that you intended taking a ride in the subway?”

  “I did not thay.”

  “Uh-huh!” grunted the detective. “Would you mind giving me the information now?”

  “Craddock, my buthinethth ith my buthinethth!” Tham said.

  “Also the business of the police, generally.”

  “If I want to ride on the thubway, who thhall thay that I thhall not?”

  “Nobody, Tham. The subway is a democratic institution. You can ride in it any time you have the price, do not smoke, and can stand up. You have to be able to stand, of course.”

  “There you go, knockin’ the thubway!” Tham said, his eyes suddenly angry. “The thubway—”

  “I know, Tham, how you love the subway,” Craddock interrupted. “It is meat and drink to you.”

  “Thay!”

  “And cigarettes and amusements. Were it not for the subway, old boy, you’d probably starve, or make some slip that would get you free board and lodging for ten or fifteen years.”

  “Thith converthation theemth to get uth nowhere,” Thubway Tham complained. “Thuppothe that we dithcontinue it.”

  “Why, Tham, you amaze me! Were those words of loving kindness and friendship?”

  “Thimp! Do you intend to follow me around all the retht of the day?”

  “I certainly do love your company, Tham.”

  “Well, I don’t love yourth! I am going down into the thubway, and I am going to ride uptown. If you want to follow, it ith your privilege!”

  Having made that declaration Tham turned his back and walked rapidly to the subway entrance and hurried down the stairs, Craddock, still grinning, kept at his heels. They waited on
the platform and presently caught an express for uptown.

  Tham kept his back turned to his tormentor. He was angry, and he did not care at present whether Detective Craddock knew it. He was making no pretense at being satisfied with life. He had lost a big chance, he figured. That mysterious something in the inside coat pocket of the stranger—Tham had failed to get it! And that conversation between Tom and Joe lingered in his mind. Whatever was in that pocket was of great value! They had spoken of responsibilities and nervousness and all that!

  He rode on uptown, Craddock standing within a few feet of him. At Times Square Tham left the train and ascended to the busy street. Craddock followed a short distance behind.

  Thubway Tham felt his anger growing. Craddock, as he looked at it, had caused him to lose a rich haul of swag. Craddock had put in an appearance at the wrong moment, Tham needed funds, and now he must lose Craddock before he could make an attempt at replenishing his empty purse.

  Plowing through the crowd, Tham walked as swiftly as he could, hoping that there would be presented some opportunity through which he could dodge the detective. He walked around blocks, doubled on his tracks, dodged through stores with two entrances, but the grinning Detective Craddock always remained at his heels.

  “’Old stuff, Tham!” he said. “Old tricks! You’ll have to do better than that, old-timer, if you want to lose me. I’m not easily lost!”

  “No?”

  “No!” Craddock said. “I stick closer than a brother, old boy. I’m the original little vial of glue in a case like this. I’m the sheet of fly paper that never fails!”

  “How you mutht hate yourthelf!” Tham said.

  At that he turned his back, went into a corner tobacco shop, and there purchased a package of cigarettes. Lighting one, he sauntered forth again. At that juncture, Thubway Tham’s luck turned for a moment.

  Two men met at the corner, faced each other with their eyes flaming, spoke a few subdued words, and then clashed in an example of the fistic art. Women screamed and men crowded forward to look. There was no policeman handy. Detective Craddock rushed forward to preserve the peace.

  Just at that moment Thubway Tham darted across the street. Looking back he saw that Craddock was having a hot time of it, for the two belligerents seemed determined to fight it out. Tham chuckled again and darted into the nearest subway entrance.

  Tham felt rather disgusted as he waited for a train that would carry him downtown. He felt that he had been robbed of an excellent chance to make a “killing.” Now he would have to pick out a victim, work as quickly as he could, and probably collect a few dollars, whereas, he felt, had he been able to get what the man Joe had carried in his coat pocket, possibly he would have found himself on “Easy Street” for days to come.

  He turned to glance at the others who waited for the train—and his heart almost stood still. Within a dozen feet of him was the man Joe!

  Thubway Tham edged closer and watched him carefully. Once more he saw that telltale movement of the man’s right hand. Whatever of value he had carried was still reposing in that inside coat pocket!

  Once more Tham felt a glow of hope rush through his being. Perhaps it was not too late. He followed the man inside a car when the express came into the station and got as close as possible without attracting attention to himself.

  “I wonder what it ith?” Tham mused. “It thertainly mutht be thomething worth a lot! Bondth or jewelth or a wad of coin! Thith time I get it!”

  His victim had a far-away look in his eyes, a sort of dreamy look. Tham was glad for that, for it meant that the other was thinking of something far removed, and such a man is easier to “touch” than one who is alert.

  The train stopped at the Pennsylvania Station, and a throng got into the car, which pleased Tham still more. He edged closer to his victim. He would do the deed, he had decided, when the train stopped at Fourteenth Street.

  He knew that he was a trifle nervous. This was not like the ordinary lifting of a leather, he told himself. He was on the verge of getting something more valuable than usual. Once more he remembered the Tom and Joe conversation and felt thrilled.

  The train roared into the Fourteenth Street station. Thubway Tham lurched forward as the doors were opened, brushed against the man in front. His quick fingers did their work swiftly, and Thubway Tham was gone out to the platform and hurrying toward the stairs and the street.

  He almost chuckled. It had been ridiculously easy. And he had accomplished it after losing his chance twice.

  “The third time ith the charm,” Thubway Tham told himself as he came to the street level. “Dethpite Craddock and everything, I have done it!”

  His curiosity was at work again. He walked briskly down the street, wondering what he would find in the wallet, which was now in the side pocket of his own coat. He slipped his hand into the pocket, his fingers inside the flap of the wallet. He felt crisp paper, and nothing more. Either currency or valuable bonds, he judged. Working carefully he slipped the paper from the wallet and doubled it in his pocket. As he passed a trashcan he deftly tossed the wallet into it. He had got rid of the leather in the most approved fashion.

  Thubway Tham knew that he should not look at what was in his pocket before he got far away from the scene. But curiosity was consuming him. He had heard the man, Tom, speak of a great responsibility, and Joe say that it made him shake and shiver a bit.

  Stepping into a side street, Tham pulled from his pocket what a few minutes before had been the contents of the wallet. He saw at the first glance that it was a document of some sort. He stopped and unfolded it and glanced at it swiftly. And then he grunted his huge disgust. In his hands he held a marriage license.

  “After all my work!” Tham gasped out. “Rethponthibilitieth! Maketh him thhake and thhiver, doeth it? Bondth—jewelth—prethiouth gemth! My goodnethth!”

  He was on the point of hurling the marriage license from him when he hesitated, put it back into his pocket, and said to himself: “I thuppothe I thhould mail it back to him. My goodnethth, but my temper nearly got the betht of me that time.”

  THUBWAY THAM MEETS A GIRL

  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 thtinthhine,” 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 conce
rned 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 waitress 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.”