[COMPLETE STORY.] A TRIANGLE OF THIEVES

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIV, Issue 23, 10 June 1905, Page 49

[COMPLETE STORY.] A TRIANGLE OF THIEVES

By

Marvyn Dana

I.

THE four made their respective liviings by chicanery. Each had loved two things always — gold and himself. Conversely, each hated toil and indigence. Of late their.love had eome to include a third object—a girl. Their hate had likewise expanded to inelude one another. This was the joint work of Marie and jealousy. Marie was the daughter of the woman whose cafe they frequented. It was in the heart of the Tenderloin and therefore in the midst of their activities. At the same time, the clientele was very small and comparatively honest. so that the four were here isolated and free to discuss plans and plots without danger of interruption. It was, too, a very pleasant place for loafing, and this was its greatest advantage for men who had no home and did not care to be on view too constantly in more public places. Most of all Marie, the cashier, was a magnet that drew and held them. She was only twenty, lithe, dainty, with true French vivacity and intelligence, and lovely as an American girl. Each of the four had proposed innumerable times, to be refused as often. But, too. each was confident that Marie would at once accept him when he could display to her avaricious eyes a bulk of money adequate for matrimony. Unhappily, since they had frequented the cafe times had been rather bad with them at the races, the gambling rooms, and elsewhere in the attempted amassing of wealth. Each was agog with a desire to “pull off” something good, something worthy of Marie. And each was suspicious lest another might have this happy chance before himself. Thus they grew morbid, and jealousy changed them from friends to enemies. Marie took their money and smiled on all. Then one night “Skinny,” who was also known as “Bones” and “the Shadow,” on account of his height and lankness, astonished and enraged his three companions by an announcement. “I’m goin'up to Connecticut.” he said easily, “to bury my father an’ git my inheritance.”

“Oh, eome off!” exclaimed “Punrpy” —-thus termed for his enthusiastic method of shaking hands. “You always was a liar.” This was undoubtedly true. Skinny was also a braggart and a humorist. Indeed, h : s sense of fun found satisfaction in the chagrin of his listeners, for he grinned as he continued. “Ten thousand plunks in cash! What do vou think of that? Two thousand in cash in the bank and another eight thousand waitin’ to be paid fer the farm if I’ll take it! What?” “You’re stringin’ us ag’in,” cried “Teeters” in great disgust. “I’m goin’ to bed.” Teeters, who was the fat member of the quartette, rose and walked out. Skinny called after him: “It’s straight. - Come baek a minute, Teeters.” And as the other returned sulkily, he continued: “I’m leavin’in the mornin’, an’ I won t be here ag in fer a week. When I do, I’ll have the plunks, and can show ’em to ye. I’d show ye the lawyer’s letter, but I don’t want your sort to know the place, seein as how I might want to retire there an’ be respectable byraeby.” The others glared in silence for a moment; then “Sneezes” spoke softly. Sneezes always spoke softly, and always coughed gently before and after every sentence. To his consumptive manner he owed his nicknames of “Sneezes,” “One Lung.” and "Barker,” but whether his lungs were really affected or only his manner none knew, not even himself, for he was a thorough-paced hypocrite to himself and all the world. So now he merely coughed mildly and almost whispered: "I’m glad for you, my boy, if it’s true. But you know, Skinny, you always did lie, and 1 guess you’re lying now.” Skinny laughed aloud, for by Sneezes’ words he knew that his story was believed. He gloated-over his crestfallen companions for a moment, then rose awkwardly and slouched off.

“See yer in a week, boys,” he called over his shoulder. He paused at the cashier’s desk and whispereel to Marie. The girl shook her head violently, whereat the watching three at the table were relieved for the moment. As Skinny passed out, still chuckling, Teeters expressed the conviction of all: “He hain’t told her yet!” 11. A week later, ten o'clock in the evening. Teeters, Pumpy and Barker were sitting in the cafe ogling Marie and scowling at one another, when Skinny entered. He was evidently in the best of spirits, whereat his associates scowled the harder, no longer at one another, but with one accord at him. He paused for a whispered word to Marie, then slouched up to the table at which the three were sitting. “Hello, boys!” he said clamorously. “I’m back, an’ safe an’ sound.” Pumpy and Teeters shook hands limply as Skinny seated himself, with a stereotyped greeting. “Why, how nice and spruce you look. Skinny!” remarked Sneezes. “And such fine new clothes! And did you sell the farm, Skinny?” “Yes,” Skinny replied with great gusto; “you can bet yer life I sold it! Got the dough, too, all rignt, all right. What ?” Teeters snorted contemptuously and started to speak. He was interrupted, however, by: Pumpy, who regarded Skinny with manifest disgust. “I’d be ashamed,” he ejaculated. “Ashamed o’ what?” Skinny inquired indignantly.

“Ashamed o’ buryin’ a pool- ole father an’ then cornin’ a-grinnin’ over it. Yes. sir, I’d be ashamed. You’re a boss, Skinny.” This was Pumpy’s most abusive phrase, for he invariably lost on the races all that he acquired elsewhere, and in consequence regarded ail horses with aversion. Skinny's face grew serious. “I wasn’t meaning any reflections on the funeral,” he said apologetically. “I’m respectin’ my- father 0.K., an’ don’t any of you guys forgit it. I wish the old man had ten thousand dollars this minute an’ was alive to enjye himself. He was a good father an' a-damn-ed sight better’n I ever deserved. Don’t any of you galoots git frisky ’bout my fani’ly affairs, fer I won’t stand fer it! See ?” Then the frown passed from his brows, and he continued banteringly: “’Cept, o’ course, ’bout the money. I don't mind yer jokin’ me a little jest because I’m full o’ dough. It’ll kind o’ help break me in to feelin’ like the other bloated plutocrats if you sort o’ chew- the rag concernin’ my swag. You see, ten thousand beautiful plunks is new- to me. “Make me buy drinks. Try to do me, so’s I'll sympathise with my pals', the millionaires. What?” “You hain’t got no money,” Teeters declared apoplectic-ally. “I ain’t swallowin’ pipe dreams. You always was a liar, Skinny.” Skinny- beamed on the angry man and replied: “That’s it, Teeters, get the steam up. It tips me off on how nice it is to be rich, when I see you showin* how hard it is to be poor. I’m git tin’ used to it, havin’ unlimited coin for a considerable spell. But I can imagine jest how you feel, Teeters. Do it some more, old socks.” Teeters grew purple. “Nobody has seen you a-flashing any particular wad. Keep it in banks, don’t ye? Got safe deposit boxes, hain't ye? Didn't. I say you was a liar? I did. and you are!” Teeters raised his voice so that Marie at her desk could hear him. “You ain’t got no money. Skinny. We’re on to yon, Skinny. Call it off! D’ye hear? You make me sick!” Skinny had listened with a smile of amused tolerance. He now stroke cheerfully:

“ioii do me a heap of good. Teeters, an’ that’s no fake! I’ve a good mind jest to make you madder to show ” He broke off and sat is deep thought. Finally, he thrust a hand into his breast pocket and slowly drew forth a long black pocket-book, which he opened with great solemnity and revealed a thick stack of bills. 'The outer one was for live hundred dollars. His irritated pals leaned forward. Sneezes coughed delicately, while Pumpy trembled and Teeter’s brow was beaded with perspiration. They were experts in the consideration of cash. This was genuine money. An audible sigh went up from the three. Suddenly Skinny shut the book and returned it to his pocket. HL The three withdrew in rage and despair, leaving Skinny in possession of the field. Outside, they separated, and each went his way alone. Evidently it would be useless at this time to dispute Skinny’s triumph. He had the money, and to have the money was equivalent to having the girl, in the opinion of the three. Without the money they were powerless to interrupt the career of their victorious rival. Marie had refused them penniless too often to leave any hope thta it was in their means to win her without a golden lure. And Skinny had that lure! Ten thousand dollars! It was more than any one of the three had ever possessed. They regarded Skinny with a certain awe as the owner of such wealth, and hated him with the virulent hate born of envy. It was strange that never before had he boasted of the money which might be his one day. However, this very reticence made the fact more appalling from the shock of surprise. Skinny had the money — he would have Marie. It was a frightful situation. and the three cursed Skinny’s

fate and their own with savage inten Meantime. Skinny himself was closeted with Marie's mother in a rear room of the cafe, where once again the black pocket-book was displayed. Moreover, the first bill was stripped from the pile and passed over to Madame, after which some legal looking documents were signed. Finally Skinny, on his way out at a late hour, when the eafe was deserted, conversed at length with Mario, and in parting kissed her. Then Skinny strode forth smiling, as might be expected of one who has fallen heir to a fortune and gained a sweetheart. It was late when Skinny at last tumbled into bed. He fell asleep almost instantly. A little later he was awakenefl through some subtle instinct, for no noise had disturbed him. Suddenly he sat bolt upright in bed and listened alertly. There was no sound except the distant rumbling of the traffic, yet he did not relax his attention. It was perhaps five niiiiutt-s before anything happened to justify his vigilance. Then he detected a slight creaking on the stairway. Instantly Skinny slipped out of bed and took up a strategic position liehind a sofa that stood against the wall near the door. From this point of vantage he was able both to hear and to see. as a faint light eanie in from the street and gave sufficient illumination for one familiar with the room. Skinny was now convinced that his instinct had not played him false, for the creaking on the stair continued. And the noise was of a most suspicious character. In this fourth-rate boarding-house, where Skinny maintained his inexpensive domicile, noises in tire halls were not of rare occurrence, for bibulous boarders were wont to return late and sonorously. But this sound was quite different. It was stealthy and significant of treachery, ns of the crafty approach of one who sought to do evil undetected. Skinny crouched behind

the sofa and iwaited the event with mingled alarm and aniizcnirn*. I list amazem nt became overpowering when lie saw his own door swing open slowly. Surely, the visitor had the gift of extreme cautiousness, for it seemed to Skinny that five minutes were consumed in the gentle* operation, until it stood ajar sufficiently to admit a man. Skinny, from hi-, concealment, watched with swift-beating heart; then, as the; figure at last sb»l? into view between him and the window, he could scarce stille the cry of bewilderment that rose to his lips, for on the instant he recognised the bulky outline. The midnight marauder was, of all persons in the* world — Teeters! Skinny gaped and peered, uncomprehending. for a moment. But in a Hash understanding came. Teeters had come to steal the ten thousand dollars. .Skinny was in sore distress. A vicarious shame held him and made him reluctant to discover himself to the thief. For the moment he remained undecided as to his course and awaited development s. Teeters stood motionless and silent within the room, evidently listening for any sign of alarm from his victim. At last, hearing nothing, he began moving cautiously toward the hod. Skinny wondered to what lengths the man was prepared to go. Had he resolved to do murder, if rob. b?ry and escape were impossible without it ? Surely, he must know that no man would give up his whole fortune without a struggle, were any warning given. The black pocket-book was under the pillow, and Skinny, as the other advanced, was greatly inclined to rush forth and seize him before he could reach the bed. .More prudent counsel, however, prevailed, and he lurked in his concealment, while the thief continued until hr stood at the lied-head. There Teeters again paused for some time to make sure that he was as yet undetected. And it was then that he suddenly discovered the fact that the bed

was empty. Skinny could make out very distinctly the shadowy figure bending over the pillow. Then it swiftly vanished. Skinny waited impatiently, but nothing further happened. There was neither s,qund nor movement in the room. Meditating on the. cause of this. Skinny reasoned that Teeters must nave taken the alarm when he found the bed unoccupied, and had concealed himself. The suddenness with which . the thief had vanished convinced Skinny that his enemy, had taken refuge behind the curtain which concealed the clothing hung on the wall by the bed. Probably the intruder had already secured the pocketbook. and now only awaited an opportunity to make good his escape. In all these conjectures Skinny was exactly right, but his knowledge did not help him in determining his course. Apart from the risk of personal injury, Skinny had a strong reason for not coming to a personal struggle with his old companion. While it might be easy for him to restrain himself, there was every reason to suppose that his adversary was a desperate man. and prepared to take supreme risks to avoid detection or capture. Skinny sighed with the weight of his perplexities, and determined to continue

his passive role until the latest possible moment. It appealed to his humorous sense that the two of them, the robb«*r and the roltbed. should be thus hidden and motionless, each waiting for the other. Five minutes passed ami the situation remained unchanged. Skinny could imagine something of the perplexity that niuM assail Teeters, who could hardly explain the absence of the sleeper from a warm bed. except on the theory that ho was lying in wait to pounce upon th? thief. Then there came a sound from the passage. Skinny strained his ears in amazement, for the noise was of that surreptitious character which had marked the advent of Teeters. The same arguments concerning it held good. There could not be the shadow of a doubt —another thief was coming! Skinny found the situation more interesting than ever. It was natural to suppose that this second person was an acct plice of the first; but a sudden suspicion was born in Skinny’s brain, and he was convinced that the newcomer was not Teeter’s partner. If this were indeed so. what of Teeters? lie could hardly mistake the sounds of those of Skinny returning to hi?j room unsuspiciously—tJufre wan stealth in the movements. But he might easily believe that this was Skinny coming to attack, lo the rescue of his property—coming in the hope of taking his enemy unawares. Surely, then, if the two were not confederates. th? situation must become exciting. Skinny smiled in the gloom and began to enjoy anticipations. The second thi?f proceeded with much greater celerity than bad the first. He made no long pause at the door, but entered quickly and went on by the sofa behind which Skinny crouched. As he passed into the light of the window. Skinny suffered a rush of blood to the head. It was Bumpy! Events followed so fast that Skinny had little time for wonder. Bumpy slid silently across the room and up to the head of the bed. But just as he reached it. he brushed against the curtain and recognized the fact that some one was behind it, or else Teeters seized this moment to attempt his exit. Whatever the cause. Skinny heard a stilled exclamation and saw two forms swaying in a frantic struggle at the bedside. Then an instant later a shot rang out, and another. The t\to forms separated and darted toward the door, one a little in advance. But the one leading as he reached the hall, collided with a third. The pair fell together. The second man to leave the room stumbled over the fighting couple on the Hour of the hall, and then Skinny beard another shot. It was followed by a moment of silence, and in that lull Skinny heard a cough—a gentle, deprecatory cough — the cough of Sneezes’ Aft.-»r this came a noise of footsteps running down the stairs. Again silence reigned, to be broker? soon by movement and voices among the alarmed occupants of the house. Skinny was observed lighting the gas. Before answering any questions, he gave a hasty look about -for the pocket-book. It was

lying on the floor at the head of th b?d, where the struggle bad begun. The bills wore. untouched. He held it aloft so that the question* rs could sea it plainly. "They were after this,” he explained. Then, by ingenious perversions of the truth, being a humorous, a braggart and a liar. Skinny exploited his prowess and told of his fight with three burglars, whom lie had put to Hight, despit • the shots they had fired at him. IV. To Marie, however. Skinny told the truth. "Sneezes has skipp'd,” he said. “and Teeters and Bumpy have got bullet-holes in ’enr. It’s a great joke on ’em. you see. ‘cause they was fooled, all right, all right. What? They thought them Confederate bills under that one good tlve-hundred-dollar bill was the- rest of that ten thousand plunks I’d inherited from the old man. “That’s what 1 told ’em. an’ they jest bit—bit hard, harder’n ever I thought they would. Jest ’cause they wanted you. Marie—but I ain’t a-blamin’ ’em for that. Jest think of ’em plannin’ to pinch my pile, each all by his ’lone. "What a joke on ’em. An’ what a joke it ’most was on me! What? You see. Marie, they never tumbled that I’d saved five hundred cold ones to win the old lady's consent aTi’ buy a share in the business, an’ git married an’ settle down with the prachiest thing a-goin’. “Oh. no. 1 jest whispered to ’em the somewhat disturbin’ intelligence that I’d inherited ten thousand simolians from my dad. Say. he'd turn over in his grave at the sight of ten thousand real dollars. What? “Them Confederate notes I had was all that I found legally cornin’ to me. fhe olc man stole ’em in war times, fhey was the nearest be ever came to havin’ real money. Won’t the bunch be sick when they get wise to the news that the three of 'em was separate!v burglin' and shoot in' up a stack of dead ones—a wad of Confederates. What?” "Ah! '--Marie lifted her eyebrows. “What is ze Confederates?”

Bum money,'’ replied Skinny with a

professional air. “Paper dough that ain't no good. Yon can’t buy nothin’ with it.” , “And zc five hundred greenback n "Oh. 1 passed that over to your mother for a half interest in the hash foundry.” - J "Zere is no mon—ie left “Not a red. except what’s in the business with your old lady.” “Au revoir. monsieur.” chirped Marie, rising with an air of decision. “You make ze partnership wiz ze wrong end of ze familie.” Skinny never quite appreciated the sarcasm, nor did lie realise the seriousness of his business blunder until the news reached .him. a few days later, that Marie had eloped with a certain bartender in the neighbourhood—a bartender who invested his surplus cash in Marie instead of her mother, who, by tha way. had several months before mortgaged the cafe to the head waiter.