grinned and then continued his way through the square, looking searchingly at those he passed; and Thubway Tham glared after him, and then glared down at the innocent pup, who promptly thumped his stump of tail rapidly against the surface of the cement walk.
An hour passed. The big clock in the tower chimed. Thubway Tham came from a reverie, got up, and walked briskly across to Broadway and toward Times Square, where, he had decided, he would descend into the subway and catch an express for downtown.
As he reached the subway entrance he discovered the pup at his heels. Thubway Tham made an angry gesture. “Go back!” he commanded. “You can’t come into the thubway, pup. Get out! My goodnethth, what do you want to follow me around for?”
The pup retreated for a moment, a playful gleam in his eyes, but when Tham started to descend the steps the dog darted forward once more. Again Tham threatened with words and gestures. The pup seemed to be of the opinion that it was a game, prancing and barking at Tham and attracting a great deal of attention, including that of a policeman in uniform.
Thubway Tham growled low down in his throat and walked on along the street. How could he go into the subway with a policeman watching him? He said mean things to the pup in undertones, but the pup seemed to think that they were nice things and continued to dodge other pedestrians, clinging closely to the heels of Thubway Tham.
Near a corner Tham found a bit of stick that some playing child had dropped. He picked it up and hurled it angrily at the pup, who barked his joy, scampered after the stick, and returned it to Thubway Tham promptly, his eyes bright and his tail wagging. Tham almost cursed.
Coming to another subway entrance, Tham had an inspiration. He hurled the stick as far as possible from him, and then darted down the steps. But before he could reach the bottom the pup was at his side, carrying the stick.
Tham went back to the street again and walked briskly and angrily along. He had believed that this was going to be a fortunate day, and here was a playful yellow pup spoiling it. And so he came, after a time, to the Fourteenth Street subway station, and there he had another brilliant idea.
“You thtay here!” he told the pup. “Lie down there, and thtay there!” There was something commanding in Tham’s voice. The pup stretched himself on the walk.
“Thtay right there until I come back!” Tham commanded.
The pup seemed to understand that. He put his nose on his paws and watched Thubway Tham closely. Tham went down the steps, now and then glancing back and motioning. The clog obeyed, remaining stretched on the walk above.
Tham boarded a downtown express and glanced about with an eye to business. His lips curled in disgust. There was nobody in the car who looked as though he possessed a wallet.
Leaving the train far downtown, Tham caught another express and doubled back. His disgust deepened. Station after station was passed, and no prospective victim got into the car.
“It ith that blamed dog,” Thubway Tham told himself. “He ith a jinx. Everything wath nithe until he came along!” He left the train at Times Square, went to the street and walked around for a time, and finally entered the subway again. The platform happened to be thronged, and Tham was gratified to see a number of prosperous-looking gentlemen waiting for the train.
Tham followed them aboard. One man in particular appealed to him. He was large, prosperous looking to a high degree, and the tails of his coat swung free of his hips. As he brushed against another man, Thubway Tham noticed the top of a wallet in a hip pocket.
That one glance told Tham that it was a large wallet, a well-worn wallet, just the sort that should contain a goodly amount of currency. He edged closer to the man he picked, but in such a manner that none noticed it. All he needed now was an opportunity, the moment when the train thundered into a station and the doors were opened, when the throng fought to get out of the cars and into them.
The moment came. Thubway Tham brushed forward, and his clever fingers did their work. Tham attempted to go past the others and hurry to the street, but his victim kept in front of him. He, too, seemed to be in a hurry, and, reaching the street two steps in front of Thubway Tham, greeted two men who seemed to be waiting for him and stepped forward.
At that moment Tham had a feeling of disaster. The victim reached toward his hip pocket.
“My wallet!” he exclaimed, making a quick stop. “My wallet’s gone!”
Thubway Tham was within a few feet of him, just at the level of the walk. He saw a policeman a few feet away whom he did not know personally, but it did not follow that the officer did not know him. Thubway Tham felt cornered. There was but one thing to do—get rid of the “leather” quickly.
His hand darted into his pocket as the man ahead stopped. Taking the wallet out, he tossed it aside as he walked on straight toward his victim, with the intention of passing him and hurrying up the street. Tham gave a sigh of relief. He had lost the wallet, but they could fasten no crime upon him now. If it was found then and there, the big man would think that he had dropped it as he came up the steps.
Just then Thubway Tham, glancing back innocently, gave a gasp of terror. That confounded yellow pup was tearing along the walk after him. Tham had forgotten that he had told the dog to stay there until his return. He had done his “trick” and left the subway at Fourteenth Street, where he had left the pup waiting some time earlier. But the worst of it was that the pup had in his mouth the wallet which Tham had tossed away and the pup had retrieved.
The bird-dog part of him was being uppermost for the moment—he was playing a game with his master again.
“My wallet! The dog’s got it!”
Thubway Tham stood as though turned to stone. His feet seemed unable to move, though his mind told him to run. The pup stopped before him and wagged his tail, holding up the wallet as high as he could and prancing around on his hind legs.
“That your dog?”
Tham gulped, but could not answer. But the big man gave him no chance.
“That’s my wallet,” he explained. “I must have dropped it as I left the subway. These men will vouch for me.”
“Aw—all right,” Tham said, gasping.
“My name’s Chester Jonebin. You’ll find the name in the wallet, cards, et cetera. Kindly look.”
Tham took the wallet from the dog and verified the name.
“No money in it,” said the big man. “But those papers—if they had been lost it would have caused no end of inconvenience. I feel that I must reward you, my man, for having such a sensible dog. Allow me!”
The big man reached into a pocket of his waistcoat, extracted some currency, and handed Thubway Tham a fifty-dollar bill.
“It’s worth it!” he said. “Serves me right for being careless. Legal papers, you understand. Depositions and such. No thanks—it’s coming to you!”
Before Thubway Tham could speak, the big man and his friends were hurrying along the street. Tham looked at the bill; then down at the yellow pup.
“Dog,” said Thubway Tham, “you come along with me. I know where they thell meat! And if Nothey Moore won’t let you thleep in hith kitchen, then we’ll get uth another roomin’ houthe. Come with me,
