The Thubway Tham MEGAPACK ®. Johnston McCulley

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      “It’s just like I told you,” Snoopy declared. “I ain’t done nothin’, Tham. I ain’t turned a trick, or tried to, for more’n a month. I’ve been layin’ low.”

      Thubway Tham looked inquiringly at Nosey Moore.

      “I thought,” said Mr. Moore, “that you’d let Snoopy hide in that big closet, Tham. You’ll be here playin’ the radio. If the bulls bust in here, everything’ll look natural. While you are talkin’ to ’em, Snoopy can get from the closet to the other room and get down the stairs. If they bust into the other room, Snoopy can come from the closet, get through this room, and make a getaway. Then the bulls will come in and find you smokin’ and playin’ the radio like—”

      “I thee!” Thubway interrupted. “I don’t care much for you, Thnoopy, but I’m willin’ to help a man in trouble.” He got up and crossed the room and opened the closet door and beckoned to Snoopy Sallon.

      The closet was a large one, and Tham had clothes hanging in it. The door opening from the closet into the next room was locked. Nosey Moore used a pass-key and unlocked it.

      “You can thtay in there,” Tham told Sallon. “I want to get back to the radio.”

      “Thanks, Tham!” Sallon said. “You’re a square guy. I won’t forget this!”

      “I don’t like to thee the dickth and bullth railroad any man,” Tham announced. “That ith not right.”

      He closed the door and turned back into his own room with Nosey Moore.

      “I don’t like that bird, either,” Mr. Moore whispered to Tham, “but we’ve got to help him make a getaway as long as he plays square. That’s the game we’re in, Tham.”

      “Thhure!” Tham responded. “Thtay a minute and lithten to thith muthic, Nothey.”

      Moore listened to the music for a time. Then the landlord returned to his office, and Tham listened in alone, and just about forgot Snoopy Sallon. But presently he worked the dials again and “tuned in” on a local station. It was time for the police alarms. Thubway Tham got a certain amount of pleasure out of those police alarms. He visualized thousands of persons listening to them. Tonight he listened while missing persons were described. He heard reports of stolen automobiles. And suddenly he sat up straight in his chair and forgot to puff at his pipe, for there was an alarm that seemed to interest him more than the others. It rang from the loud speaker in such tones that everybody on that floor of the building must have heard it.

      “Wanted,” it said, “Snoopy Sallon, five feet, seven, weighs a hundred forty, thin, white face, looks like a dope fiend, little finger of left hand missing, scar over right eye, when last seen was dressed in well-known blue-serge suit and wore a black cap. This man, at five o’clock last evening, without provocation, fired at and wounded in the shoulder Detective Charles Craddock, of the headquarters squad. Presumably he did it in revenge because Detective Craddock once arrested him for burglary. This man Sallon is badly wanted by the police.”

      For a moment, Thubway Tham sat as though stunned. Craddock had been shot! Not mortally wounded, thank goodness, but shot just the same! Shot down without provocation. A cowardly act! And Snoopy Sallon, the man who had done it, was hiding in the closet by Tham’s permission! Snoopy Sallon had lied to Tham, too! He had said that the police were making an attempt to railroad him. He knew, undoubtedly, that Tham never would have aided him if Tham knew that he had shot Craddock.

      Then it flashed through Tham’s brain that Snoopy Sallon, hiding in the closet, must have heard that description of himself and his crime as it poured from the loud speaker. White with rage, his hands clenched, Thubway Tham sprang to his feet, rushed across the room, and jerked open the closet door to confront his man.

      But he did not confront him. Sallon had heard. He knew in what estimation Tham held Craddock, and he expected violence for having lied. So Sallon had slipped from the closet to the empty room adjoining, had gone from there into the hall, and no doubt was hurrying from the lodging house. Tham took down his coat and jerked it on, and reached for his cap. Something seemed to compel him to feel into his coat pockets. And then Thubway Tham did rage indeed. It had not been enough for this Snoopy Sallon to shoot down Tham’s friend and then lie about it. Making his enforced departure, Snoopy Sallon also had taken the small roll of currency that Tham had in his coat pocket—some hundred and twenty dollars!

      It has often been mentioned in these chronicles, that Thubway Tham generally was a mild little man. But given a reason for wrath, none could be more wrathful. And Thubway Tham certainly had a double reason for wrath now. He shut off the radio and darted down the stairs, where he found Mr. Moore.

      “Nothey, that thkunk of a Thnoopy Thallon shot Craddock!” Tham cried. “I jutht got it over the radio. There ith a polithe alarm out for the thcoundrel. He heard it, too. And he thneaked away with all my money!”

      “Why, the—” Moore began. But Thubway Tham did not wait to hear him. He had run down to the street and was on his way. He imagined that Sallon would hide in some other place until midnight, the time for his trip over to Jersey. He knew a score of places where Sallon might hide—and he was out to find him.

      Tham could inquire for his man and find the trail, whereas a police officer could not. As Tham fared forth on his quest, his face was white. He breathed deeply, and rage flamed in his eyes. Craddock was shot, and it was as though a brother had been brought down by an assassin’s bullet. The wound was probably not at all dangerous, yet Craddock had endured pain! And the man who had done it also had robbed Tham.

      In robbing a citizen of the underworld who was protecting him, Snoopy Sallon had put himself outside the pale. Now he was entitled to no consideration whatever! Tham could handle him the same as he would a stranger.

      For some three hours, Tham went from place to place, but not a trace did he find of Sallon. However, he did not despair. He knew what he intended doing, and he told himself that he would do it if it took him years.

      Sallon was the larger man, but he was weakened by drugs and he had a “yellow streak.” Fortified with the knowledge that his cause was just, Tham would have twice his usual strength. But he had to find Sallon.

      And then he entered a cigar store that had a billiard and pool room in the rear, a well-known hangout for crooks operated by a “fence.” He whispered to the proprietor.

      “I want to find Thnoopy Thallon,” Tham said, “and I want to find him in a hurry.”

      “Uh-huh!” the other grunted. “I just got the tip a few minutes ago, Tham. The lay is that some pals are to smuggle Snoopy out of town, and he had to change his hideout. That’s all I know about it. He’s afraid that his pals can’t find him. What’d he do?”

      “Plugged a dick,” Tham replied, not mentioning names. “Hith goothe ith cooked unleth he watcheth hith thtep.”

      “All right, Tham. You pass the word to whoever it is that wants to know. Snoopy is hidin’ on the third floor of Burke’s place, down the street. Little room at the back.”

      “Thankth,” said Tham. “I’ll attend to it.”

      Tham exulted as he went forth into the street again. He hurried along it through the throngs. He knew where Burke’s place was located, and he knew how to get to that little room on the third floor.

      On the corner nearest his destination, Thubway Tham came across СКАЧАТЬ