The Intrusion of Jimmy Read online

  CHAPTER VII

  GETTING ACQUAINTED

  A cyclone, entering a room, is apt to alter the position of things.This cyclone shifted a footstool, a small chair, a rug, and Spike.The chair, struck by a massive boot, whirled against the wall. Thefoot-stool rolled away. The rug crumpled up and slid. Spike, with ayell, leaped to his feet, slipped again, fell, and finallycompromised on an all-fours position, in which attitude he remained,blinking.

  While these stirring acts were in progress, there was the sound of adoor opening upstairs, followed by a scuttering of feet and anappalling increase in the canine contribution to the current noises.The duet had now taken on quite a Wagnerian effect.

  There raced into the room first a white bull-terrier, he of thesoprano voice, and--a bad second--his fellow artiste, the baritone,a massive bull-dog, bearing a striking resemblance to the big manwith the big lower jaw whose entrance had started the cyclone.

  And, then, in theatrical parlance, the entire company "held thepicture." Up-stage, with his hand still on the door, stood the manwith the jaw; downstage, Jimmy; center, Spike and the bull-dog,their noses a couple of inches apart, inspected each other withmutual disfavor. On the extreme O. P. side, the bull-terrier, whohad fallen foul of a wicker-work table, was crouching with extendedtongue and rolling eyes, waiting for the next move.

  The householder looked at Jimmy. Jimmy looked at the householder.Spike and the bull-dog looked at each other. The bull-terrierdistributed his gaze impartially around the company.

  "A typical scene of quiet American home-life," murmured Jimmy.

  The householder glowered.

  "Hands up, you devils!" he roared, pointing a mammoth revolver.

  The two marauders humored his whim.

  "Let me explain," said Jimmy pacifically, shuffling warily around inorder to face the bull-terrier, who was now strolling in hisdirection with an ill-assumed carelessness.

  "Keep still, you blackguard!"

  Jimmy kept still. The bull-terrier, with the same abstracted air,was beginning a casual inspection of his right trouser-leg.

  Relations between Spike and the bull-dog, meanwhile, had become morestrained. The sudden flinging up of the former's arms had had theworst effects on the animal's nerves. Spike, the croucher onall-fours, he might have tolerated; but Spike, the semaphore, inspiredhim with thoughts of battle. He was growling in a moody, reflectivemanner. His eye was full of purpose.

  It was probably this that caused Spike to look at the householder.Till then, he had been too busy to shift his gaze, but now thebull-dog's eye had become so unpleasing that he cast a pathetic glance upat the man by the door.

  "Gee!" he cried. "It's de boss. Say, boss, call off de dawg. It'ssure goin' to nip de hull head off'n me."

  The other lowered the revolver in surprise.

  "So, it's you, you limb of Satan!" he remarked. "I thought I hadseen that damned red head of yours before. What are you doing in myhouse?"

  Spike uttered a howl in which indignation and self-pity were nicelyblended.

  "I'll lay for that Swede!" he cried. "I'll soak it to him good!Boss, I've had a raw deal. On de level, I has. Dey's a feller Iknow, a fat Swede--Ole Larsen his monaker is--an' dis feller an' mestarted in scrapping last week, an' I puts it all over him, so hehad it in for me. But he comes up to me, like as if he's meanin' tobe good, an' he says he's got a soft proposition fer me if I'll givehim half. So, I says all right, where is it? An' he gives me denumber of dis house, an' says dis is where a widder-lady lives allalone, an' has got silver mugs and t'ings to boin, an' dat she'saway down Sout', so dere ain't nobody in de house. Gee! I'll soak itto dat Swede! It was a raw deal, boss. He was just hopin' to put mein bad wit' you. Dat's how it was, boss. Honest!"

  The big man listened to this sad story of Grecian gifts in silence.Not so the bull-dog, which growled from start to finish.

  Spike eyed it uneasily.

  "Won't you call off de dawg, boss?" he said.

  The other stooped, and grasped the animal's collar, jerking himaway.

  "The same treatment," suggested Jimmy with approval, "would also doa world of good to this playful and affectionate animal--unless heis a vegetarian. In which case, don't bother."

  The big man glowered at him.

  "Who are you?" he demanded.

  "My name," began Jimmy, "is--"

  "Say," said Spike, "he's a champion burglar, boss--"

  The householder shut the door.

  "Eh?" he said.

  "He's a champion burglar from de odder side. He sure is. FromLunnon. Gee, he's de guy! Tell him about de bank you opened, an' dejools you swiped from de duchess, an' de what-d'ye-call-itblow-pipe."

  It seemed to Jimmy that Spike was showing a certain want of tact.When you are discovered by a householder--with revolver--in hisparlor at half-past three in the morning, it is surely aninjudicious move to lay stress on your proficiency as a burglar. Thehouseholder may be supposed to take that for granted. The side ofyour character that should be advertised in such a crisis is thenon-burglarious. Allusion should be made to the fact that, as achild, you attended Sunday school regularly, and to what theminister said when you took the divinity prize. The idea should beconveyed to the householder's mind that, if let off with a caution,your innate goodness of heart will lead you to reform and to avoidsuch scenes in future.

  With some astonishment, therefore, Jimmy found that theserevelations, so far from prejudicing the man with the revolveragainst him, had apparently told in his favor. The man behind thegun was regarding him rather with interest than disapproval.

  "So, you're a crook from London, are you?"

  Jimmy did not hesitate. If being a crook from London was a passportinto citizens' parlors in the small hours, and, more particularly,if it carried with it also a safe-conduct out of them, Jimmy was notthe man to refuse the role. He bowed.

  "Well, you'll have to come across, now you're in New York.Understand that! And come across good."

  "Sure, he will," said Spike, charmed that the tension had beenrelieved, and matters placed upon a pleasant and business-likefooting. "He'll be good. He's next to de game, sure."

  "Sure," echoed Jimmy, courteously. He did not understand; but thingsseemed to be taking a turn for the better, so why disturb theharmony?

  "Dis gent," said Spike respectfully, "is boss of de cops. Apolice-captain," he corrected himself.

  A light broke upon Jimmy's darkness. He wondered he had notunderstood before. He had not been a newspaper-man in New York for ayear without finding out something of the inner workings of thepolice force. He saw now why the other's manner had changed.

  "Pleased to meet you," he said. "We must have a talk together one ofthese days."

  "We must," said the police-captain, significantly. He was rich,richer than he had ever hoped to be; but he was still on TomTiddler's ground, and meant to make the most of it.

  "Of course, I don't know your methods on this side, but anythingthat's usual--"

  "I'll see you at my office. Spike Mullins will show you where itis."

  "Very well. You must forgive this preliminary informal call. We camein more to shelter from the rain than anything."

  "You did, did you?"

  Jimmy felt that it behooved him to stand on his dignity. Thesituation demanded it.

  "Why," he said with some hauteur, "in the ordinary course ofbusiness I should hardly waste time over a small crib like--"

  "It's banks fer his," murmured Spike, rapturously. "He eats demalive. An' jools from duchesses."

  "I admit a partiality for jewels and duchesses," said Jimmy. "And,now, as it's a little late, perhaps we had better--Ready, Spike?Good-night, then. Pleased to have met you."

  "I'll see you at my office."

  "I may possibly look in. I shall be doing very little work in NewYork, I fancy. I am here merely on a vacation."

  "If you do any work at all," said the policeman coldly, "you'll lookin at my office, or you'll wish you had when it's too late."

 
; "Of course, of course. I shouldn't dream of omitting any formalitythat may be usual. But I don't fancy I shall break my vacation. Bythe way, one little thing. Have you any objections to my carving aJ on your front-door?"

  The policeman stared.

  "On the inside. It won't show. It's just a whim of mine. If you haveno objection?"

  "I don't want any of your--" began the policeman.

  "You misunderstand me. It's only that it means paying for a dinner.I wouldn't for the world--"

  The policeman pointed to the window.

  "Out you get," he said, abruptly. "I've had enough of you. And don'tyou forget to come to my office."

  Spike, still deeply mistrustful of the bull-dog Rastus, jumped atthe invitation. He was through the window and out of sight in thefriendly darkness almost before the policeman had finished speaking.Jimmy remained.

  "I shall be delighted--" he had begun. Then, he stopped. In thedoorway was standing a girl--a girl whom he recognized. Her startledlook told him that she, too, had recognized him.

  Not for the first time since he had set out from his flat that nightin Spike's company, Jimmy was conscious of a sense of the unrealityof things. It was all so exactly as it would have happened in adream! He had gone to sleep thinking of this girl, and here she was.But a glance at the man with the revolver brought him back to earth.There was nothing of the dream-world about the police-captain.

  That gentleman, whose back was toward the door, had not observed theaddition to the company. Molly had turned the handle quietly, andher slippered feet made no sound. It was the amazed expression onJimmy's face that caused the captain to look toward the door.

  "Molly!"

  The girl smiled, though her face was white. Jimmy's evening clotheshad reassured her. She did not understand how he came to be there,but evidently there was nothing wrong. She had interrupted aconversation, not a conflict.

  "I heard the noise and you going downstairs, and I sent the dogsdown to help you, father," she said. "And, then, after a little, Icame down to see if you were all right."

  Mr. McEachern was perplexed. Molly's arrival had put him in anawkward position. To denounce the visitor as a cracksman was nowimpossible, for he knew too much. The only real fear of thepoliceman's life was lest some word of his money-making methodsmight come to his daughter's ears.

  Quite a brilliant idea came to him.

  "A man broke in, my dear," he said. "This gentleman was passing, andsaw him."

  "Distinctly," said Jimmy. "An ugly-looking customer!"

  "But he slipped out of the window, and got away," concluded thepoliceman.

  "He was very quick," said Jimmy. "I think he may have been aprofessional acrobat."

  "He didn't hurt you, father?"

  "No, no, my dear."

  "Perhaps I frightened him," said Jimmy, airily.

  Mr. McEachern scowled furtively at him.

  "We mustn't detain you, Mr.-"

  "Pitt," said Jimmy. "My name is Pitt." He turned to Molly. "I hopeyou enjoyed the voyage."

  The policeman started.

  "You know my daughter?"

  "By sight only, I'm afraid. We were fellow-passengers on theLusitania. Unfortunately, I was in the second-cabin. I used to seeyour daughter walking the deck sometimes."

  Molly smiled.

  "I remember seeing you--sometimes."

  McEachern burst out.

  "Then, you--!"

  He stopped, and looked at Molly. The girl was bending over Rastus,tickling him under the ear.

  "Let me show you the way out, Mr. Pitt," said the policeman,shortly. His manner was abrupt, but when one is speaking to a manwhom one would dearly love to throw out of the window, abruptness isalmost unavoidable.

  "Perhaps I should be going," said Jimmy.

  "Good-night, Mr. Pitt," said Molly.

  "I hope we shall meet again," said Jimmy.

  "This way, Mr. Pitt," growled McEachern, holding the door.

  "Please don't trouble," said Jimmy. He went to the window, and,flinging his leg over the sill, dropped noiselessly to the ground.

  He turned and put his head in at the window again.

  "I did that rather well," he said, pleasantly. "I think I must takeup this--sort of thing as a profession. Good-night."