to watch. The wallet was returned to the man’s hip pocket.
“Why, the ath ought to be robbed,” Tham told himself. “Anybody who carrieth a wallet in a hip pocket ith a thimp! If he only goeth into the thubway—”
He did. Thubway Tham followed at his heels, his heart rejoicing. Getting a wallet from a hip pocket was an easy job, as Tham knew from experience. And that certain wallet contained enough to repay him for what he had expended, and would purchase considerable more new “scenery,” should Tham desire.
An uptown express roared in, and Tham followed the prosperous-looking man into a crowded car. A quick glance assured Tham that no officer of the law was among those present. The train darted away from the station, and Tham got as close as possible to his intended victim and awaited the proper moment for the work.
Tham always lifted a leather just as the train was going into a station. There always was some confusion in a crowded car at that moment, and Tham, the wallet in his possession, could dart out of the car and up the steps to the street, and be in safety before the victim discovered his loss.
Tham glanced around the car again—and ground his teeth. It appeared that every man and woman near him was watching him closely. In every direction he faced, he found eyes peer-ing into his. Young women were smiling at him openly. Older women were grinning. Men had peculiar expressions in their faces.
Tham knew better than to attempt to lift the wallet at that moment. He supposed that it was the “scenery” that was attracting all this attention to him. The train pulled into the station, and Tham could not do his work. And the victim left the car.
Tham left the car also. He had not given up in despair; he remembered the amount in the wallet. He followed the prosperous-looking individual to the street and along it, and saw him enter a small cafe, where another man met him.
It became evident that this was a luncheon engagement, and Tham decided to wait. He did not want to enter and order lunch himself, for fear the other would get through earlier and leave, and Tham did not intend to lose him.
He walked to the corner, crossed the street, went up the other side, and stood in a doorway from where he could watch the cafe entrance. The walk was thronged at that hour, and an endless stream of people were leaving the building and entering it. Thubway Tham found that he was attracting attention again. Now and then a remark was wafted gently in his direction, that cut him more deeply than he cared to admit.
Thubway Tham began to have the feeling that perhaps Nifty Noel and Detective Craddock had been right—that his clothes were just a shade too fashionable. But he did not spend much time thinking about that; he was remembering the fat wallet.
“Thothe thimpth muth have ordered everything in the plathe,” he growled to himself.
But, in time, his prospective victim and the other man emerged from the cafe, and Tham went to the corner and crossed the street, and so came up behind them. If that man went into the subway again, and still had the wallet in his hip pocket, Tham intended to replenish his funds in great fashion.
Down the street he followed, and saw the two men separate at a corner. And the one Tham had marked as his own hurried straight toward a subway entrance.
“Thome luck at latht,” Tham mused. “Everything cometh to the man what waith, and I thertainly waited thome little time!”
They were forced to spend a few minutes waiting for a downtown express, and when the prosperous-looking man boarded it, Tham was right behind him. The car was only half crowded, yet there were enough passengers to make Tham’s work comparatively safe.
Tham glanced around the car swiftly, to make sure that there was no officer of his acquaintance aboard, and then he lurched forward and came to a stop just behind the broker. Everything seemed to be as Tham wished it. He had only to wait, now, until the train stopped at the next station, until the passengers began crowding through the doors, and then he would do his work and be on his way, leaving the victimized broker behind.
He glanced around the car again, and again he gnashed his teeth in rage. Every person who could see Thubway Tham was looking at him intently, examining him from hat to shoes, smiling, chuckling. Tham did not dare make a move, and it pained him when he thought of the fat wallet.
Was he to lose the chance to get that currency just because he was dressed so well that everybody observed him? Was he to fail in regaining the money spent for the new scenery?
The train reached the station, and the prosperous-looking one left the car. Tham was at his heels, but did not dare attempt to get the wallet. Every eye was upon him. And he was overhearing remarks again.
“Looks like a lighthouse!”
“Some of those window dressers sure do dress up their dummies in funny ways!”
“Suppose it escaped from the zoo?”
Thubway Tham, his face burning, a snarl on his lips, turned away from the prospective victim and went up the street. Rage was in his soul. He did not care for the comments, still being sure they were born of jealousy, but when he thought of the wallet he had lost, he cursed the idea of new clothes.
A hand touched him on the shoulder. Tham whirled around to find himself facing Detective Craddock.
“Well, Tham, how does the scenery go?” Craddock asked. “Makes you feel nervous and self-conscious, doesn’t it? I noticed that you didn’t seem yourself in the train.”
“Tho?”
“So. I had my two eyes on you, Tham, and I guess everybody else did. I was in the car ahead, you see, but standing so I could watch you. Hard luck, wasn’t it, Tham? I noticed that you had a victim all picked out and ready to slaughter. Tough luck, Tham!”
Thubway Tham did not reply. He turned his back and walked rapidly toward the lodging house he called home. The check clerk at the Pennsylvania Station, Tham knew, would have a slender cane forever. And a certain landlord would see him arrayed just once more—as he entered the building. And some old clothes man would get a bargain!
“New thenery ith all bunk,” declared Thubway Tham. “A man cannot work when he ith drethed up. Therveth me right for tryin’ to imitate an ath like Nifty Noel.”
THUBWAY THAM’S DOG
Descending the rickety, narrow stairs in the lodging house conducted by Mr. “Nosey” Moore, where he had a furnished room that he called home, Thubway Tham reached the level of the street and discovered that it was a splendid day.
For a moment he remained standing before the open doorway, looking up and down the busy street, for Thubway Tham had not left his bed until a late hour, and the city already was at work, the streets filled with vehicles, the walks thronged with human beings in much of a hurry.
“It ith a fine day,” Thubway Tham remarked to himself. “And I feel that it ith a lucky day!”
Thubway Tham grinned broadly as he said that. Now and then Tham was sure to experience that subtle and unexplainable thing most men call “a hunch,” and whenever he experienced one he was certain to act upon it. He had found that it paid.
Breakfast was in his mind, and he left the entrance of the lodging house and started along the street toward the little restaurant he patronized. He glanced down and found a dog before him.
Thubway
