The Thubway Tham Megapack

by Johnston McCulley

  Just before the doors were closed, Thubway Tham darted to the platform. He knew, even as he made the move, that he had lost. Detective Craddock was at his heels.

  But Thubway Tham suddenly had a ray of hope. He found himself in the midst of a throng. He realized that a race train was just starting for Belmont Park. Here was a crowd, a swiftly moving, fun-seeking crowd. Thubway Tham joyfully plunged into the middle of it and kept moving. He turned to the right and the left; he ducked down so that many persons would come between Detective Craddock and himself.

  Almost before he knew it, Thubway Tham was on the train and on his way to Belmont Park. It was the last thing he had expected to do when he got up that morning. But he had shaken Craddock. And a glow came over him. He felt that fortune had turned for the better. Perhaps this was a “hunch.” Perhaps he was being guided to profit and entertainment.

  II.

  Strange though it may seem, Thubway Tham, well-known professional dip and member of the underworld in good standing, was new to the races. He was not noted for dissipation. He did play a little poker now and then, but never had he bet on the ponies. He did not understand the game. It was not that he had scruples, but merely that he never had fallen in with acquaintances who loved racing, and never had been led to the track. So Tham decided that here was a chance to gather experience and possibly funds. Returning from the track, possibly he would have a chance to lift a leather.

  The train roared out along Long Island toward the park, Tham amused himself by watching his neighbors. He heard a jargon that he did not understand and was ashamed of his ignorance. Racing, it came to him, was the sport of kings. To be a follower of the steeds was to be an aristocrat of a sort. Thubway Tham decided that he would become a race fan!

  When the park was reached, Tham found himself in another jam of hurrying, jostling, fun-loving people. He fought his way through and found himself inside. Back of the grandstand the horses were being saddled for the first racem and a band was playing. Tham leaned against the bole of a fine old tree and took in the scene. It attracted him. He began feeling lucky again.

  Tham never forgot that first race, He heard a tumultuous multitude pleading with certain horses to “come in and get it.” He saw dignified men forget their dignity. He saw fashionably dressed women jumping up and down and shouting. Tham’s blood raced through his veins. This was the life! Hereafter he would be a part of it!

  Just as the first race ended, Thubway Tham beheld a small individual standing a couple of paces away. Tham looked him over carefully. He was about Tham’s size and age, and the light of worldly wisdom was in his face. But that face at the moment was as long as it possibly could be.

  The individual who had attracted Tham’s attention looked as though he had lost his best and last friend and his last dollar. Woe was stamped on his countenance, and despair was in his manner. He sighed, glanced at Tham, and turned away. Tham felt his heart growing soft within his breast.

  “What theemth to be the matter, boy?” Tham asked. “You look like a funeral would be a cauthe for rejoithin’.”

  “Me?” said the other. “John W. Hard Luck is my close friend, that’s all!”

  “Bet on the wrong thteed, eh?” Tham asked. “Put down thome berrieth on the dog that trotted in latht?’”

  “You’re wrong!” said the other; “It’s’ because I can’t bet that I’m mopin’ around here.”

  “Out of fundth, are you?”

  “You said it!”

  “Uh-huh! Maybe you’re lucky,” Tham told him. “And maybe if you had thome coin and bet it, you’d lothe.”

  “You don’t get me,” the other complained.

  “Well, tell your thad tale, then.”

  “It’s like this,” the other replied in a confidential tone, stepping closer to Tham. “Come back here where every cheapskate won’t hear me.”

  He led Tham some distance away and then glanced around as though he anticipated an audience and was determined to keep away from it. Tham felt a thrill of mystery about the affair.

  “It’s like this,” said the tout again. “I’ve got a friend who works for one of the owners. I did him a big favor a couple of years ago, and he’s one of these birds who always remembers a little thing like that.”

  “He mutht be a queer thpethimen, and I’d like to meet him,” Tham declared.

  “He’s the salt of the earth, this bird,” said the other. “I’ve been in the hospital for four months—got smashed up on a truck one day. I came out broke; I can’t do heavy work, and so I haven’t landed a job. I met this friend of mine last night, and he put me wise to something,”

  “Thuppothe you put me withe, too,” said Tham.

  “All right! This friend of mine works in a stable, like I said. His owner has a horse in the second race. The race’s fixed for his owner’s horse to win. It’s a frame—get me?”

  “I grathp you,” said Tham.

  “My buddy hasn’t any coin and can’t get any. He passed the tip to me, and I haven’t been able to find a friend with a cent. Gosh! It’s a chance for me to make a killin’ and get on my feet. I need the coin. And here’s the second race comin’ up, and not a cent down for me. My big chance, and she’s gone! Wonder that my face is so long?”

  “Tough luck!” Tham said.

  “If I could find some honest bird, I’d let him in on this, if he gave me my bit.”

  “That theemth fair enough,” Tham said.

  “And the horse is goin’ to the post with odds as long as a Russian wolfhound.”

  “Thuppothe I furnithhed the coin,” Tham said.

  “Say! Would I get anything out of it?”

  “Half the profitth, if any,” said Tham.

  “There’ll be profits, all right. How much can you put down? All you can! Got a twenty?”

  The tout was clever. He did not suggest a hundred. But Thubway Tham did.

  “If it ith good for a twenty, it ith good for a hundred,” Tham declared.

  “It’s good, all right!”

  “What ith the name of thith horthe?”

  “Let’s see the coin,” the other suggested. “I don’t want to queer my friend by spoutin’ this tip all over the place and bringin’ down the odds.”

  Thubway Tham grinned, extracted his roll, and slowly counted off a hundred dollars.

  “Let’s hurry and get it down,” said the tout. “We don’t want to miss this. Now you remember—I get half the winnings.”’

  “You can thtick right bethide me,” Tham offered. “Let’th go!”

  “You come with me!”

  Thubway Tham went. He prepared to negotiate the bet. The other did not want to handle the money, of course, He merely instructed Tham, “Put it on Blister to win!” he whispered hoarsely.

  A few minutes later Tham had a ticket, and his hundred was on Blister to win.

  They hurried to the rail. The horses were not yet on the track. Tham’s newfound friend excused himself to speak to an acquaintance, and Tham thought that was nice and trusting of him. He began looking at the interesting crowd again.

  A hand touched his shoulder, and Thubway Tham turned quickly, half expecting to see Detective Craddock’s grinning face. What he did see was a flashily dressed young man with a pleasant expression in his countenance.

  “Pardon me,” said the stranger, “but I saw you talking to that man a moment ago. Possibly you know him well—”

  “Never thaw him until today,” Than said.

  “I feared as much, sir, I am afraid that you have been swindled. I trust that he did not get you to bet much money?”

  “Why?” Tham asked.

  “I’ll tell you, but please keep it confidential.”

  “Thure!”

  “That man is a scoundrel!” declared the stranger. “He works for crooked owners. He gets men to bet on a horse that is not going to win, the crooked owner pays him, and the bookmaker splits with the owner. He pulls a long face and tells a few lies—”

  “My goodneth
th!” Tham gasped out. “Tho that ith why he hurried away, ith it?”

  “Certainly. Just charge it up to experience and watch out for touts hereafter. Did it cost you much?”

  “A hundred,” said Tham. “But maybe the horthe will win.”

  “What horse, if I may ask, sir?”

  “Blister!”

  “Ha, ha! It is as I feared. Blister couldn’t win a race if his life depended on it. I happen to know that this race is fixed, but it isn’t fixed for Blister to win. I feel sorry for you. You’re out a hundred. Let it be a lesson, sir.”

  “It ith!” said Tham.

  “By George! Tell you what I’ll do! I hate to see you made a victim, and you’ve still got time to get down a bet! Hurry back and get down another hundred on Apple Sauce, That’s the horse that’s going to win this second race. Get a hundred on Apple Sauce, and you’ll break even. See? And then hunt up that dirty little crook and bawl him out, and show him how he didn’t get in his work!”

  Thubway Tham was feverish by this time. He could afford to lose the hundred. Countless times he had done as much in games of chance. But he could not afford, he told himself, to let a miserable little swindler swindle him and get away with it.

  Under the eager guidance of the second stranger, Thubway Tham was quick to get down a hundred dollars on Apple Sauce. That left him with about eight dollars in change in his pocket He certainly would have to lift a leather if neither Blister nor Apple Sauce came in winner.

  He did some mental arithmetic. If Apple Sauce won, he would have his two hundred dollars back, and possibly about a hundred more. If Blister won, he would have his two hundred back and about three hundred more, half of which he would give the tout. But Tham had no faith in Blister now. He believed that this second stranger had told the truth. Possibly it was because the second man wanted to double-cross the first. Tham did not care, so long as he won.

  “Look! They’re at the post!” Tham heard the stranger say.

  They hurried up to watch the race. The stranger stood by Tham’s side. He made no effort to get away, as the first had done, and Tham felt his trust in trim growing.

  He enjoyed that race. He could make out nothing when the horses were on the backstretch, but he hoped that Apple Sauce was out in front and going strong.

  The crowd had gone insane for the moment. Thubway Tham found himself shouting with the others, and wondered at it a bit He turned to see whether his new friend had observed his excitement and found that the new friend had disappeared.

  But Tham did not have time to consider the fact just then. The horses were thundering down the stretch. Four were well bunched, and those in the big crowd were like maniacs.

  “Come on, Apple Thauthe!” Tham cried.

  A thunder of hoofs, a cloud of dust, and the horses were past the finish post. Tham did not know which had won, and he watched eagerly for the numbers to go up.

  Up they went. Tham glanced at the numbers, and then at his program. Blister was not mentioned, so far as the numbers were concerned. Neither was Apple Sauce. Some benighted animal known to the racing world as Gadworth had galloped home in front!

  Thubway Tham felt a sudden burning in his eyes as he turned away. Nor was the loss of the two hundred the cause of it. Tham had just made the discovery that he had been stung twice in the same place, and it irked him.

  “The dirty crookth!” he growled to himself as he went around behind the grand stand. “If I get a chance—”

  He was not thinking of physical combat, though neither of the touts looked very formidable. He was a good loser. He had been played for a sucker, and that settled it! It was because the game was new to him, he explained to himself. He had a game of his own, and undoubtedly he could best the touts at that.

  Tham watched the racing, but without much interest. He would have to dodge Craddock for the remainder of the week and lift some leathers, he told himself. The state of his finances was deplorable.

  It was just as the last race of the afternoon was starting that Thubway Tham came around a corner of the grand stand and beheld something that caused him to blink his eyes. He saw the man with whom he had placed his bets, and he was in close conversation with both the touts. Tham got near enough to overhear.

  “Good work today, boys!” the big man was saying. “You got us a lot of bets on Blister and Apple Sauce in the second. The crop of suckers must have been good.”

  “We certainly worked one boy,” said the flashily dressed one. “Dick nicked him for a hundred on Blister, and I got him for another by telling him what a crook Dick was. I’ll bet the poor simp collapsed when that race was over.”

  Thubway Tham ground his teeth in rage. So he was a sucker and a simp, was he? He, Thubway Tham, had been played for a rustic! If there was such a thing as revenge. He watched closely now. The big man took a wallet from his hip pocket. The wallet was stuffed with bills. He took out a few and gave them to the two touts.

  “Some cleaning today!” he said. “Get busy tomorrow, boys! See me at the usual time!”

  The two louts hurried away with their loot. The big man took an expensive cigar from his waistcoat pocket, bit off the end, applied a flaming match, and puffed in contentment. He was grinning as he started to walk away. Tham did not pay any attention to the touts. He followed the man with the wallet.

  His two hundred and a lot of other two hundreds were in that wallet, Tham judged. He intended to be reimbursed, and without mentioning the fact to anybody.

  He followed faithfully and found himself after a time on the crowded train within a few feet of the big man with the wallet Tham waited for the proper moment, meanwhile looking over those nearest. It was not the same happy crowd. Some were hilarious, and others were glum. There is a big difference between a throng going to a race meet and coming from it.

  Under the East River roared the train, and Tham prepared for his work. His man was standing in the aisle, and Tham brushed against him. His hands made a quick movement, the wallet was transferred.

  Tham allowed a couple of men to squeeze between him and his victim. His fingers went into his pocket and pried the wallet open. Those deft fingers extracted the currency and left papers and cards in the “leather.” And then, with a quick movement, Tham slipped the wallet to the floor. He retained the currency in his pocket.

  He was chuckling as he left the train at the Pennsylvania Station and hurried over to the subway to catch a downtown express. He knew that he had made a haul, but it was the revenge that pleased him most.

  A touch on his shoulder, and Tham whirled around. Craddock was standing before him, and now he was not grinning.

  “Well, Tham, you did it,” the detective said. “You dodged me. But I’ll bet you’ve been hiding in the station or walking the streets.”

  “Why, Craddock, you athth!” Tham said with glee. “Do you mean to thay that you have been watchin’ for me all afternoon? I went out to Belmont, you thimp, to watch the ratheth! And now I am goin’ home. Come along, if you want to keep them clever eyeth of yourth on me!”

  Craddock’s face grew red.

  “There are other days coming, old-timer, and I’ll catch you right yet!” he said.

  “It can’t be done!” Tham declared.

  “You’ll change your tune when you’re on the way up the river for a ten stretch!”

  “Let not your angry paththionth rithe,” Tham suggested. “Here cometh my train, Craddock. Goin’ along to watch me?”

  Craddock glared, whirled around, and strode away. Thubway Tham watched him go, his face wreathed in smiles. He felt of the bundle of currency in his coat pocket.

  “There ith only one way to win when you bet on the ponieth,” said Thubway Tham to himself. “Find a bookmaker who hath had a good day, and collect from him!”

  THUBWAY THAM’S RAFFLE TICKET

  In common with most dwellers in the country’s metropolis, Thubway Tham, the little lisping pickpocket, generally used the same streets and even the same sides of them, and the sam
e shops and eating places. Get him a couple of blocks off his beaten track, and he was like a wanderer in a strange land.

  On this particular afternoon, Tham had dodged down a side street to avoid meeting a certain officer of the law who knew him well. He had gone with speed through an arcade in a huge building, and finally had emerged furtively into a street to which he was a total stranger.

  It was a street of dingy shops and cheap lodging houses over which were flamboyant signs. Around the bottoms of stairways leading to second floors of the buildings were groups of weary-looking men reading the “help wanted” sheets of employment agencies. Some of the shop windows were filled with second-hand clothing which the proprietors of the establishments evidently refused to dust.

  Here was a sort of eddy or backwater in the city’s activity, and it was difficult at first sight to believe the street was within two blocks of a bustling thoroughfare lined with first class shops and through which traffic roared.

  Now that he was in this alien neighborhood, Thubway Tham thought he might as well look around. A man of his ilk at times had to have a safe getaway route from pursuit which might land him in jail, and friends scattered here and there in case quick help was needed. A man never knew when disaster would threaten.

  Tham felt in a coat pocket for his pack of cigarettes and book of paper matches and found he had used his last cigarette. So he strolled on toward the nearest corner, looking for a shop where he could purchase smokes.

  Across the next street intersection was a large so-called “drug store” in which was sold everything from women’s lingerie to hardware. Tham found the store a busy place. Behind the tobacco counter was a slight, swarthy, shifty-eyed male clerk wearing a badly soiled white coat.

  His first glance satisfied Thubway Tham that he did not like this unknown and would not have trusted him as far as he could hurl a feather against the force of a gale. But he made his wants known as he fumbled in a pocket for a coin.

  “Be wise, Bud,” the clerk told him, his manner confidential. “One package of cigs won’t last you long. We’ve got a special on your brand today—one-twenty a carton. And it gives you a crack at the prizes and big money, too.”