Adventures of Thubway Tham. Johnston McCulley

that may mean. There appears to be something lacking. Maybe it isn’t that; maybe it is that there is too much present and not enough lacking. What a delicate shade to those gloves.”

      “It ith, ain’t it?”

      “And a yellow ribbon on your hat. Fancy!”

      “It thertainly ith,” said Tham.

      “Well, I’m glad of one thing, Tham. I won’t have to keep my eyes peeled so much. You’ll have a hard time dodging me in a crowd as long as you wear that scenery. With one eye shut and the other closing rapidly, as the sport writers say, I could observe you half a mile away, Tham, against a background of water dancing in the sunshine. I’ll say you are to be seen!”

      “Tho?”

      “So! I’m not sure that I shouldn’t take you in and have you investigated in regard to your sanity.”

      “Thay! When I wath in Atlantic Thity thome time ago, I thaw loth of men drethed louder than thith.”

      “Possibly, Tham. But this is not Atlantic City.”

      “Thee here,” said Tham, “are you goin’ to pethter me today?”

      “Possibly, Tham. One never knows,” Craddock replied. “But I don’t think it’ll be necessary today.”

      “No?”

      “No. The wallets of the gentry are safe, Tham, old boy, as far as you are concerned. Farewell, Tham!”

      Craddock, chuckling, walked on down the street, and for a time Thubway Tham stood at the curb looking after him and wondering what he had meant. He was glad, at least, that Craddock did not remain with him. For Tham had spent considerable money on new attire, and felt that he should replenish his funds.

      It would soon be rush hour in the subway, and that was Tham’s period of work. One fat wallet would repay him for what he had spent, he knew. And getting a wallet should not be difficult.

      Tham walked on up the street until he came to Times Square. Somehow, dressed as he was, he felt that he belonged there. It was a district where fashionable clothes were appreciated, Tham thought.

      He noticed, as he loitered along the street, that he was attracting considerable attention, both from men and women.

      “Thome clath,” Tham’ whispered to himself. “Noel wath jealouth—and tho wath Craddock. Can’t wear clotheth, can’t I? I’ll thay I can!”

      He descended into the subway and caught a train going downtown. And then the thought came to him that he would not be able to work if he carried the cane. There was no crook on the end of it, so that he could hang it over his arm. Tham felt that it would be in the way if he attempted to lift a leather, and yet he did not want to throw it away.

      He left the train at Pennsylvania Station and hurried to the checkroom. The attendant blinked his eyes when he saw Thubway Tham before him, and he marveled again when Tham announced that he wished to check his stick.

      “You act like it wath not uthual,” Tham complained, as he received his check.

      “Anything is usual, boy,” the check clerk told him. “If you’d worked in this station a couple of years, as I have, you’d know that there ain’t any such thing as a new kind of a nut.”

      Tham digested that as he walked away. He stopped on the flight of steps for a time, wondering what train to take, waiting to receive a “hunch,” and he was not insensible to the fact that he was attracting attention.

      Finally he went to the subway platform again and boarded a downtown train. The car was comfortably crowded, and Thubway Tham stood. That was as he wished, for he wanted to be in a position to study his fellow passengers and pick out a victim.

      Tham turned around slowly and looked about the car. It seemed that every pair of eyes was upon him. Tham was conspicuous, and he did not care to be at present. Moreover, there did not appear to be a likely victim aboard.

      Tham left the train in the financial district. It was rush hour in truth, now, a time meant for pickpockets. Tham, if he worked this day, would have to be about it.

      He loitered near a subway entrance, watching those about him, and hoping a prospective victim would put in an appearance. Two men came to “a stop directly before him. They looked prosperous, and Thubway Tham decided that they were brokers. What interested him most was that one pulled out a wallet and took a bill from it to hand to the other. Tham’s eyes bulged when he saw what was in the wallet—a pad of currency, the majority of the bills being for one hundred dollars each.

      Tham continued 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