The Thubway Tham MEGAPACK ®. Johnston McCulley

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 Tham, be it known, did not possess a great deal of knowledge about dogs. To him a dog was a dog, possibly a small dog and perhaps a big dog; but when it came to breeds and pedigrees and such things Tham was as a stranger in a strange land.

      It would have taken a corps of experts to explain the dog that stood before Tham now. He was a dog, and that was all, with a body that was Airedale and ears that were spaniel. There was a trace of hound about him, a hint of setter, and not a little terrier. He was yellow in spots and brown in spots. His eyes seemed to gleam; he appeared to be laughing, and his stump of a tail wagged in furious rhythm.

      “What theemth to be the matter, dog?” Thubway Tham asked.

      Evidently nothing very serious was the matter. The dog sprang back joyously a few feet and gave a sharp bark. Then he frisked to one side, sprang into the street, dodged between two taxicabs, and darted back to Thubway Tham’s side as though he had been demonstrating what a sure-footed dog he was.

      “My goodnethth!” Tham said with a gasp. “You’ll be gettin’ run over one of thethe fine dayth.”

      The dog barked again, stood upon its hind legs and waltzed a measure or two, and then crept forward once more. Thubway Tham bent over and patted the canine on the head, thinking that would settle it—and it did. Knowing nothing of dogs, Tham was of the opinion that now this animal would scamper away. Instead, the dog glued to Thubway Tham. He had adopted a new master.

      Tham did not notice it as he walked briskly along the street toward the restaurant, for his mind was upon breakfast and nothing else. He passed into the eating shop, and was hailed by the snappy head waitress.

      “Mr. Tham, you can’t bring that dog in here. You know very well that it’s against the rules!”

      Thubway Tham turned in surprise to find the dog at his heels. His face grew red.

      “It ith not my dog,” he explained. “He jutht followed me down the thtreet. Dog, get out of here!” He motioned toward the street. The dog barked once, then darted away. Tham went on to his table.

      Having partaken of his usual breakfast, Thubway Tham paid the amount of the check and stepped out upon the busy street once more, his intention being to walk up to Madison Square, rest there on a bench, and watch the crowds for a time, and then, when the rush hour arrived, descend into the subway and make an effort to “lift a leather.”

      “Thith ought to be a good-luck day,” Tham mused.

      A subdued bark caused him to look clown. There was the dog. It flashed through Thubway Tham’s mind that the canine had waited in front of the restaurant like a faithful animal, and now was ready to proceed.

      “Dog, don’t follow me,” Thubway Tham said commandingly. “I don’t crave it. You couldn’t follow me into the thubway, tho you might ath well thtop now.”

      The dog retreated a short distance, but he followed Thubway Tham through the streets, across busy corners, and to the square. Tham found his favorite bench unoccupied, and sat upon