“My goodneth!” Tham exclaimed.
“I sold back some of the canned goods, too, and the basket,” the old man said.
“Thee here!” Tham broke in. “You don’t want to do that. If thomebody gave you that thtuff they meant for you to eat it. You and your wife would not be thick if you’d eat better thtuff.”
“But I don’t like to be wasteful,” said the old man. “My ole woman and me ain’t used to fancy grub like that.”
“Well, get uthed to it!” Tham told him. “Maybe you’ll be gettin’ more.”
“No, I reckon not. Lightnin’ don’t strike twice in the same place,” the old man told him. “Like as not, somebody made a mistake when they put that basket of grub there.”
Thubway Tham chuckled as he went on through the alley. He promised himself that he’d continue to leave provisions and money at the door of the shack until the old man and his wife grew accustomed to the idea and began living properly. Clothing, too, would not be amiss, Tham told himself. He made an attempt to dodge Craddock that day, but the detective picked him up in the vicinity of Union Square. It taxed Tham’s ingenuity to evade the officer, but he accomplished it after a time, and finally succeeded in purloining a wallet from a gentleman who had the appearance of being a malefactor of great wealth.
Tham was gratified to find that the wallet contained eighty dollars. He purchased another basket that evening, and had it filled with provisions, and he bought an overcoat for the old man and a new shawl for his aged wife. Cold weather was approaching.
Once more, after night had fallen, Thubway Tham crept down the lodging house stairs and went into the alley, and once more he stood at a distance and watched the old man take in the basket.
“Hope he keepth the thtuff thith time,” Tham told himself. “He thertainly doeth need a thquare meal!”
* * * *
It was almost noon the day following when Tham went through the alley and found the old man sitting in the doorway.
“Feeling better thith mornin’?” Tham asked.
“I guess I’m all right—I never complain much,” the old man said. “I used to complain a lot, but I found it didn’t do any good. But I’ve had a bit of good luck—somebody left another basket at my door last night.”
“Well, my goodneth!” Tham said.
“Yes, sir! More grub, and an overcoat, and a shawl for the ole woman.”
“That ith thertainly nithe!” Tham told him.
“Sinful waste of money,” the old man said. “That overcoat was a good one—last a man ten years easily. And I ain’t got more than two or three years longer to live, I reckon. Be a shame for me to spoil that coat.”
“Did you thell it?” Tham gasped.
“I sold it to a second-hand thief, and he’d give me only twelve dollars for it. I’ll bet it cost three times that—it was brand new. Needed the money much more than I did the coat. Sold the ole woman’s shawl, too—her old one is plenty warm enough.”
“Well, my goodneth!” Tham exclaimed. “You ought to keep thingth like that when you need ’em.”
“Somebody’s got a kind heart, or else they’re makin’ a mistake,” the old man said. “I sold the most of the stuff they left last night, but there was some the butcher wouldn’t take back. I wish whoever is giving me these things would be careful and leave stuff I can sell back to the store.”
“Why, you thilly ath, you ain’t thuppothed to thell thingth like that!” Thubway Tham told him. “If you get any more, you thave them for yourthelveth—thee?”
Tham walked on through the alley and went about his business. He was a bit disgusted with the old man, but he told himself that the poor fellow was not quite responsible, since he probably had been half starved for a long time. He’d continue to play Good Samaritan, he would, and maybe he could teach the old man to eat the food left at his door, and to wear the garments provided.
Craddock picked the dip up again that day, much to Thubway Tham’s disgust.
“Tham, I would have a few words with you,” the detective said.
“Well, thir?”
“Tham, a certain city official was riding in the subway yesterday during the rush hour. He had a well-filled wallet in his clothes. And when he left the subway, he did not have the wallet.”
“Ith that pothible!”
“And I have an idea, Tham, that you could tell me something about that leather.”
“I, thir? That ith ridiculouth!”
“I’m going to land you one of these days, Tham, and may Heaven and the court have mercy on you when I do. You’re running along nice and smooth, old boy, but one of these days you’re going to stub your toe, and then it’ll be my turn to laugh. You can’t get away with it forever, Tham; nobody can. Do you grasp me?”
“Oh, I grathp you, all right, but I don’t know what you mean,” Tham said.
“You’ll realize what it means when you hear the judge remark that the State will board you for several years, old boy. They’ve got the cell all cleaned out and a new pair of blankets ready for you. The barber has sharpened his clippers and is ready to give you the regular prison hair cut.”
“Yeth?” Tham said.
“Yes!” said Craddock. “That’s just a little thought for today.”
“Thankth for the thought,” Tham said. “And now you let me tell you thomething. Every time thome thilly thimp getth hith wallet nicked in the old thubway, you blame it on me. To hear you tell it, you ath, I am the only man in thith world that could lift a leather in a thubway train. I thuppothe anybody elthe would get paralythith if they tried it! If the clock on the Metropolitan tower lotheth a minute, you think I took it. Thimp!”
“I’m wise to you, Tham, all right.”
“If you are withe, I am King Tholomon himself, ath I told you onthe before. If you are withe, I am a college profethor with a thring of initialth after my name. You make me thick!”
“Just the same, old boy, I’m going to pay a little more attention to you after this,” Craddock told him.
Tham knew that the detective meant it, too. Tham guessed that the detective’s superior officer had been making sarcastic remarks about the robberies in the subway. Craddock was no fool, he was a foe to watch—and Thubway Tham knew it. But Tham always had liked such a battle of wits.
“Are you contemplating a ride in our beautiful subway today?” asked Craddock.
“Not if you are,” Tham told him. “The thubway ith no plathe when the air ith bad!”
“Meaning I’m rotten, I suppose.”
“Ath a man in general, you are all to the muthtard,” Tham said, “but ath a detective you are jutht decayed matter.”
“Yes?”
“Yeth!” said Thubway Tham.
He turned up the street, knowing well that Craddock was following at his heels. But he did not make an attempt to enter the subway. Tham had a hunch that it would be better not to attempt to work this noon rush hour, and Tham always played the hunches he received.
Much to the surprise of Detective Craddock, Tham went into a motion picture show and sat through a film that had to do with the adventures of an impossible sort of man who could do anything or anybody. Craddock hated picture shows, but he watched Tham while Tham watched the film.
And then Tham went down the street a few blocks and entered another movie palace, much to the disgust of Craddock. This place was jammed, and Tham fought his way to the center of a row, so that Craddock had to remain in another row and at some distance from him.
Craddock watched here for a dodge but it appeared that Thubway Tham was enjoying the comedy that was being flashed upon the screen—which he was. The end of the show came, and immediately there was a jam of persons trying to get out, and another jam trying to get in—for this was a cheap theater that let its patrons fight for seats and did not believe in paying out good money for ushers.
Craddock grunted a curse and made for the doorway. He realized now what Thubway Tham had planne
d—a get away in the crowd. He watched the front entrance, and he tried to overlook the little exit at the side, but he did not see Thubway Tham.
“Gave me the slip!” Craddock said mournfully. “I’ll get that little rat yet—and I’ll get him good!”
* * * *
Out of the theater and free of Craddock, Thubway Tham rushed for the nearest subway entrance and plunged into it. He caught an uptown train and looked around for a victim. Fate was kind to him. He left the train a couple of stations further on, and he carried with him a purse that did not belong to him.
The purse netted Tham only fifteen dollars, but he did not attempt to get another. Some sixth sense seemed to warn him that it would be disastrous to do so today. He got rid of the purse and put the three five-dollar bills in his vest pocket, and made his way to the lower end of town again.
Detective Craddock picked him up—and this time he shadowed from a distance. Craddock wanted to catch Thubway Tham off guard. That was the way to land him, Craddock had decided. Craddock was noted as a “shadow,” too. He had been using the wrong methods, he declared to himself. He would hang on to Thubway Tham like a flea to a dog and wait patiently for the moment when Thubway Tham would stub his toe.
* * * *
Tham was blissfully ignorant of all this, and he would not have cared had he known. He purchased another basket late in the evening and had it filled with provisions, bought another shawl for the old man’s wife, and put the remainder of the fifteen dollars in an envelope and tucked the envelope into one end of the basket.
* * * *
Crouched in the alley, Detective Craddock watched the light in the room that, he knew, Thubway Tham had for his own. He watched the two exits of the old lodging house, too. He saw the light go out, and he saw Tham emerge from the building with a heavy basket on his arm.
Craddock admitted to himself that he was puzzled. He had seen Tham buy the provisions and fill the basket, and that mystified him. And then he had a sudden thought.
Perhaps Thubway Tham was caring for some criminal who was “hiding out.” Perhaps he was carrying provisions to some murderer or burglar badly wanted by the police. Craddock made up his mind to follow and watch. Possibly he would make a capture and at the same time nab Thubway Tham for aiding a fugitive from justice.
Tham slipped down the dark alley, and Detective Craddock followed him noiselessly. Tham put the basket before the door, knocked, and ran. Without making the slightest noise, Detective Craddock ran after him.
Craddock watched while Tham stopped against a wall and looked back at the shack. He saw the old man open the door and pick up the basket. And then, as Thubway Tham started back toward the lodging house, Craddock reached out and nabbed him.
“What’s the big idea?” he wanted to know.
“Thir?” Tham gasped. Tham was greatly surprised.
“I’ve been watching you for hours,” Craddock told him. “I saw you buy that basket and that grub. I saw you put it by the door, knock and run. What’s the idea?”
“Well, my goodneth!” Thubway Tham cried out. “You make me thick, Craddock! Ith it not pothible for a man to do a kind deed in thith thity without you tryin’ to thtop him?”
“I don’t quite get this,” Craddock said.
“I never knew a thing about it until a couple of dayth ago,” Tham told him. “You know how long I have lived in thith alley? Well, I never thaw that thack until then. Craddock, an old man and hith wife live there like dogth. I never thaw thuch mithery. He hath had bad luck for yearth, he told me. No money, no friendth—nothin’. He hath a little hand-organ that maketh a noithe like a bad dream, and he trieth to play it and make hith livin’. It ith awful, Craddock.”
“You’ve been doing a little charity work, is that it?” Detective Craddock asked.
“Yeth, thir!”
“Kind heart, eh?”
“I ain’t got much, but I thought I would give them poor folkth thomething to eat,” Tham said.
Detective Craddock threw back his head and allowed a volume of raucous laughter to roll from his throat. He leaned against the wall of a building and held his sides and laughed until the tears ran down his fat cheeks.
“What ith the joke, you thimp?” Thubway Tham demanded angrily. “It ith thomething to laugh at, I thuppothe—an old man and hith wife almoth thtarvin’ to death!”
“W-wait a minute, Tham!” Craddock gasped. “You don’t know these people, I suppose?”
“No, thir. I didn’t even athk the old man hith name. It ith none of my buthineth. But he ith thtarvin’, and I jutht wanted to help—”
Craddock’s gale of laughter interrupted him again.
“You ought to get acquainted with your neighbors, Tham,” he said. “I thought everybody knew that old man. He’s a licensed street musician in theory, but licensed beggar in practice, and he’s a good one. The way he rakes in the nickels and dimes is a caution. And that it not all, Tham. He owns about fifteen houses that he rents.”
“What ith that?”
“He is Miser Dan, you fool—known to half the people in town. He lives this way because he hates to spend a cent; begs scraps of food and begs for old clothes. His wife is just as bad. They own a nice string of rental properties in a good part of the city, I happen to know, since I rent my house from the old skinflint. He gathers the rents himself and always tries to beg something on the side. It’s a year’s job to get him to make repairs. Why, Tham, you ass, the old miser is worth almost fifty thousand dollars! And he was arrested last year for trying to dodge his income tax!”
Thubway Tham leaned weakly against the building. Detective Craddock laughed on.
“What a thimp I am!” Tham muttered.
He walked slowly up the alley and entered the lodging house. Detective Craddock let him go.
IV.
The thirst for vengeance was born in the soul of Thubway Tham that night. So he had been purloining purses and running the chances of a long term in prison to give food to a rich miser, had he? And that rich miser had even sold back to the stores the food Tham had purchased. Tham knew, too, that Craddock would tell the story all over town. He’d pass it to other officers who knew Thubway Tham, and he’d drop in here and there and relate it to persons connected with the underworld. Everywhere Thubway Tham went for a time, he would hear about how he fed the miser!
He discovered this the following day. Craddock picked him up and grinned.
“Give Miser Dan his breakfast?” Craddock asked.
Tham glared at him and walked on up the street. He met a few acquaintances, and he knew from their words and manners that they were aware of what had happened. He knew that Craddock had told the story already, and he began to hate Craddock more.
But it was Miser Dan upon whom Tham’s desire for vengeance was centered. Tham made his way through the alley, trying to keep the rage from showing in his face, and found the old man sitting before the door of the shack.
“How do you feel thith mornin’?” Tham asked as usual.
“Only tolerable,” said Miser Dan. “Some kind friend left me another basket last night. I wish they’d leave salt pork and such instead of this other stuff—I never did like rich food. Seems a sort of waste to me.”
“No doubt,” Tham said darkly.
“I took the canned goods back to the store and sold them, and I sold the basket. The ole woman took a fancy to the last shawl, and I had to let her have it. Sinful waste. But you’ve got to humor a woman now and then. She doesn’t need that shawl a bit more than you do.”
“When do you go out with that hand-organ of yourth?” Tham asked.
“I’m not going out today. I’ve got to go way uptown to see a man. He said something about getting me a job. It’s a long walk, and I’d better be starting, I guess. I’d like to ride on the subway, but that takes money.”
“I’ll buy you a ticket,” Tham said.
“Oh, that’d be too much trouble, sir,” said Miser Dan. “If you will
just give me the nickel, that will be enough—and thank you.”
“I’ll buy the ticket!” Tham repeated. “I didn’t say I’d give you a nickel—I said I’d give you a ride on the subway.”
Miser Dan hobbled up the street behind him. Thubway Tham bought him the ticket and started him toward the gate, and then skipped back up the stairs to the street. He stood on the corner and began to plan. And then he saw and heard something that almost caused him to commit murder. Miser Dan had emerged from the subway and was trying to sell the ticket to a messenger boy for four cents!
Thubway Tham saw red for a moment. Miser Dan started up the street, walking rapidly for one of his age, and Tham started to shadow him as well as detective ever had shadowed Thubway Tham himself.
Block after block the old man went. He got out of the congested business district, followed a cross street, and finally came to a section of small houses set close together.
Thubway Tham watched him from a distance. Tham was almost exhausted because of the long walk. But he was satisfied now, for he realized the truth—Miser Dan was collecting his rents.
The old man had no thought save for money, and he did not notice that Thubway Tham watched him from a distance. He made the rounds of his houses and started back down the street. He came to a tiny park and there sat down on a bench for a time to rest.
Tham crept as close to him as possible and hid behind a clump of brush to watch. Miser Dan had an old wallet, and he was counting bills and putting them into it. When he had finished, he tied the wallet with a piece of twine—and put it into his hip pocket.
“The old thkinflint!” Thubway Tham told himself. “He hath no more thenthe than that. He ith a crook! He leadth a man to believe that he ith thtarvin’, and he ith rich. He ith ath crooked ath—ath—”
Miser Dan patted the pocket that contained the wallet, arose from the park bench, buttoned his ragged coat, and started down the street. Thubway Tham followed at a distance; he did not dare approach too closely here, for Miser Dan might turn around and recognize him, and that would interfere with Thubway Tham’s plans.
The Thubway Tham Megapack Page 25
