The Thubway Tham MEGAPACK ®. Johnston McCulley

is a liberal education for a man who keeps his eyes and ears open.

      Crouching at the end of the bench beside Thubway Tham’s feet, the dog seemed fully content to rest there with his nose on his paws and his eyes rolling up every few seconds toward the face of his new master.

      A man stopped beside the bench. Thubway Tham glanced up lazily to find that it was Detective Craddock. Between him and Tham there had been warfare for some time. The former had taken an oath to catch the little dip “with the goods” and have him sent “up the river” for a long term. The latter had sworn to himself that such a thing never would occur. Each respected the other as a foe worthy of steel.

      “Tho!” Tham said. “Tho I thee your ugly fathe again, do I? I wath jutht thayin’ to mythelf that it wath a lovely day, and now you come along and thpoil it.”

      “Indeed, Tham?” Craddock said. “I regret it exceedingly. But my duty, you know, compels me to wander hither and yon, as the saying is.”

      “Uh-huh!” said Tham with a grunt. “Hither and yon ith right. But it theemth to me that hither and yon alwayth meanth where I happen to be at.”

      “Tham, your grammar is shocking this morning.”

      “You,” said Tham, “would thhock anybody.”

      “I see that you have picked up a little stranger.”

      “Meaning—” Tham questioned.

      “That nameless and not-to-be-analyzed specimen of canine that reposes at your feet.”

      “Oh!” Tham exclaimed. “He ith a cop hound.”

      “Yes?”

      “Yeth! He can thmell a cop a mile away. He barkth twithe when a plain-clotheth man cometh along.”

      “But he did not bark when I approached.”

      “I mean a regular plain-clotheth man,” Tham said. “He knowth the real thing from an imitation every time.”

      Craddock’s face flushed, but he controlled his temper. “However, Tham, I am glad to see a dog with you,” he said. “When a dog takes up with a man, it is a sure sign that the man has at least some good in him.”

      “My goodnethth!” Tham exclaimed.

      “I remember a particularly atrocious murderer years ago who had a dog that grieved when we jailed the master. We couldn’t understand it at first, and then we found that even the atrocious murderer had his good side. He never killed anybody on holidays.”

      “Uh-huh!” said Tham, grunting. “That dog ith one that jutht happened to tag along behind me thith mornin’. I don’t even know hith name, Craddock.”

      “Perhaps he is better nameless,” Detective Craddock suggested cruelly.

      “Craddock, what do you want to knock that dog for?” Tham demanded. “Maybe he ith a good dog. He thhowed thome thenthe pickin’ out me inthtead of you.”

      “Huh!” Craddock exclaimed. “I fail to see, Tham, how you expect to use him in your business. He’ll be a pest in the subway, and you don’t work anywhere else.”

      “Craddock, if you mean to inthinuate—”

      “Cut the comedy!” Craddock suggested. “We understand each other, old boy. Were you thinking seriously of taking a ride in our beloved subway today?”

      “Poththibly.”

      “Maybe I’d better tag along with you, then, and look to the interests of such of our estimable citizens who happen to possess those things termed wallets.”

      “Thuit yourthelf,” Tham responded. “The day ith yourth, I thuppothe, to do ath you like with it.”

      “I’m truly sorry, Tham, but I cannot be your little playmate today,” Craddock replied. “I happen to be out looking for a regular crook—a burglar.”

      “Well, my goodnethth!” Thubway Tham exclaimed. “Whoever told you that a burglar wath a regular crook? A burglar ith nothin’ more than a high-clathth thneakthief!”

      “This professional jealousy is a terrible thing,” Detective Craddock observed. “I must toddle along, Tham, but we’ll meet some other day. You said that pup was a cop hound. Are you quite sure, old-timer, that he isn’t working with the cops instead of against them?”

      “He lookth like a dethent dog,” Tham answered. “At that, he probably hath more thenthe than motht copth.”

      “Yes?”

      “Yeth!” said Tham. “Don’t let me detain you, Craddock, if you are in a hurry.”

      “I am in a hurry,” Craddock admitted. “But one of these days, boy—”

      “I know,” Tham interrupted. “One of thethe dayth you are going to catch me with the goodth. That will be when I am blind and deaf and dumb, Craddock—ethpethially dumb!”

      Detective Craddock 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.