From Place to Place

se mode of livelihood was trick and device outside the law it had behooved him ever to restrain himself from violent outbreaks, to school and curb and tame his natural tendencies

of the underworld-for the crude and violent and therefore doubly dangerous codes of the stick-up,

ttle rat of a Sonntag had crossed him at an hour when he was profoundly irritated by the collapse of their elaborately planned and expensive scheme to divest that Cheyenne cattleman of

uarrel he should have made a gun play. As Trencher now realised, it had been his mistake in the first place that he took Sonntag on for a partner in the thwarted operation; but it had been Sonntag's great, fatal mistake that he had drawn a weapon against a man

s to be. The meeting in the darkened place, just where the portico at the side entrance of the old Jollity Theatre, extending out across the sidewalk, made a patch of obscurity in the half-lit street, had been a meeting b

on that point he could not be sure. What the onlooker had seen-if indeed there were an onlooker-could have been only this: Two men, one fairly tall and dressed in a sprightly fashion, one short and dark, engaged in a vehement but whispered quarrel there in the cloaking shadow close up to the locked double doors of the Jollity; a sudden hostile move on the part of the slighter man, backing away and reaching for his flank; a quick forward jump by the

enough to see Sonntag fold up and sink down in a slumped shape in the doorway. He had seen men, mortally stricken, who folde

the weapon. For the reason that he was again entirely himself, resourceful and steady, he did not fall into the error of running away. To run away in this instant was to invite pursuit. Instead he walked to the middle of the street, halted and looked about him-the picture of a citizen who had been startled by the sound of shots. This artifice, he felt sure

f one another, some of them perhaps bending down and touching the victim to see whether he lived, some of them looking round for a policeman, some of them doing nothing at all-except confusedly to get in the way of everybody else. This would be true of ninety-nine average individuals out of an average hundred of city population. But the hundredth man would keep his wits about him, seeking for the cause of the thing rather than concerning himself with the accomplished effect. For the moment it was this hundredth man Trencher would hav

, had turned the corner out of Broadway and was running down the opposite pavement. The policeman's arrival was to be expected; it would be his business to arrive at the earliest possible moment, and having arrived to lead the man

and this man was half-squatted out on the asphalt with his back to where the rest circled and swirled about the body. Moreover, this person was staring directly in Trencher's direction. As Trencher pass

ering about for the weapon that had been used; or if, in the excitement with everybody shouting together, the one man who possibly had a real notion concerning the proper description of the vanished slayer found difficulty in securing the policeman's attention-why then, in any

rb. He had the dramatic sense well developed, as any man must have who succeeds at his calling. When Trencher played a part he dressed the part. In the staging of the plot for the undoing of the Cheyenne cattleman his had been the r?le of the sporting ex-telegraph operat

ould be merely a person in a costume in nowise to be distinguished from the costumes of any number of other men in the Broadway district. But for the moment there was neither opportunity nor time to get rid of all of them without attracti

onholes being stiff. He gave a sharp tug at the rebellious cloth, and the button, which probably had been insecurely sewed on in the first place, came away from its thread fastenings and lodged in the fingers of his right hand. Mech

s playing a jazz tune very loudly in the café at the left of the Broadway entrance, so it was not only possible but very likely that the sounds of the shots had not been heard inside the hotel a

ough another set of revolving doors came out upon Broadway. It was that one hour of the night-a quarter of eleven o'clock, while the last acts are still going on and before the theatres give up their audiences-when Broadway's sidewalks are not absolutely overflo

y be beggars are not often seen, who with his hands in his pockets and his coat collar turned up was staring into the window of a small clothing shop two doors above the narrow-fronted hotel. T

the darky

y, "want to pick up s

oes!" The negr

airs in the hall. The hall boy-a coloured fellow named Fred-is watching it for me. If I go in a cab I may not get to the station in time. If you go after it for me at a run I may catch my train. See? Here's a dollar down in advance. Tell Fred Mr. Thompson sent you-tha

venty-fo' Wes' For

very devil up Broadway to

d the darky,

side out of their stride and followed as he went by a wake of curses and grunts and curious glances. On a street where nearly everyone trots but few gallop, the sight o

and flattened himself against its door. If chance had timed the occurrence just right he would win the reprieve

and just behind the policeman a roughly dressed bearded man, and with these two, at their heels, a jostling impetuous swarm of other men, to be joined instantly by yet more men, who had run round th

lainly. The foremost members of the hesitating and uncerta

a dozen pointing arms wer

icer, runnin'! See

ing tongue like beagles. He could have put forth his hand and touched some of them as they sped by him. Numbers of foot travellers joined in the tail of the chase. Those who did not join it faced about to watch. Knowing t

unconscious of any pursuit. If he continued to maintain his gait, if none tripped him, the probabilities were he would be round the corner in Forty-fifth Street, trying to find a mythical boarding house and a mythical hall boy named Fred, before t

bourhood search would be getting under way; and meanwhile the real fugitive, calmly enough, was moving along in the rear of the rearmost of those who ran without knowing why they ran. He did not go far though-he dared not go far. Any second the dar

ity, and that would last only for so long as the negro kept going. He could not get away from the spot-yet. And still it would be the height of recklessness for him, dressed as he was, to linger there. Temporarily he must bide where he was, and in this swarming, bright-as-day place he must find a hiding place from which he could see without being seen, spy without be

nden, newest and smartest, and, for the time being, most popular of typical Broadway cafés, standing three buildings north of the clothing shop, or a total distance fr

s a vast gaudy limousine, a bright blue in body colour, with heavy trimmings of brass-and it was empty. The chauffeur, muffled in furs, sat in his place under the overhang

was searching vainly for a monogram, a crest o

id sharply, "wh

nswered without turning to look

there was likely to be but one O'Gavin in it who would have a car such as this one anchore

nquired casually as though s

twisted his body and half-faced Trencher. "

encher indifferently. Then putting a touch of im

eady to go uptown at elev

him here at eleven myself and I

mark the tone of deference due to someone who was a friend of his employer's. "I u

r wait outside for Jerome than to go in there." He made a feint at looking at his watch. "Hum, ten minutes more. Tell you what

rself comfortable, sir. Sh

ick rug up over his lap. Under the rug one knee was bent upward and the fingers of one hand were swiftly undoing the buttons of one fawn-coloured spat. If th

et-if that's what he was," he cried out

ough the glass that was between them. He had

ulletin as the captive was dragged nearer. "It is a nigger! Had hi

panting policeman with his one hand gripped fast in the collar of Trencher's late messe

ere, I keeps tellin' you," Trencher heard the scared

o me, that's all," the offi

oking another way. The centre of excitement had been moved again-instead of being north of him it was now approximately ninety fee

nt into the building. Trencher wadded the spats together and rammed them down out of sight between the back cushion and the under cushion of the car seat, and wi

'Gavin doesn't hurry up we'll be late for an enga

ted the chauffeur with his a

the top of the short flight directly behind and almost touching the tall man in the dark hat and black coat. Hi

ned into the main restaurant. Trencher slipped nimbly by his quarry and so beat him to where two young women in glorified uniforms of serving maids were st

an had been similarly served. When the other, now revealed as wearing a dinner jacket, came through the Orientalised passageway into the lounge, Trencher was quite ready for him. In his life Trencher had never picke

nner coat came just opposite him Trencher, swinging inward as though to avoid c

ingers and the thumb of his right hand found and invaded the little slit of the stranger's waistcoat pocket

ng the precious pasteboard, which meant so much to him, Trencher stood where he was until he saw the unsuspecting victim pass on

ard at the opening in the dividing partition between the lounge an

he inquired

an hour with three others. I want to engage a table for four-not too c

sir. What

he name," s

e so,

he Chinese room, vigilant to note whether any of the persons scattered about it were regarding him wi

e studying her face closely for any signs that she recalled him as one who had dealt with her within the space of a minute or so. But nothing in her looks

into Broadway. The long dark overcoat which he now wore, a commonplace roomy garment, fitted him as though it had been his own. With its collar turned up a

gratifying. The spats that might have betrayed him were safely hidden in one place-yonder between the seat cushions of O'Gavin's car, which stood where he had left it, not thirty feet distant. His telltale overcoat and his derby hat were safely bestowed in the café check room behind him awaiting a claimant who meant never to return. Even if they should be found and identified as having been worn by the slayer of Sonntag, their

y to where the body would still be lying, hunched up in the shadow before the Jollity's side doors. From the original starting point the hunt doubtlessly was now reorganising. One thing was certain-it had not eddied back this far. The men of the la

. A carriage starter for the café, in gorgeous livery, understood without being told what the tall muffled-up gentleman

the wheel. "Been a shootin' down the street. Guy got croak

her as he climbed into the cab, whose

e to,

t a mile and a half away, straight up Broadway. His main

th a number and a firm name. Without the imprint of the name Trencher would have recognised it, from its shape alone. It had come from the check room in the upper-tier waiting room of the Grand Central Station. Discovery of it g

west curve of it, climbed into another taxicab and was driven by way of Fifty-ninth Street and Fifth Avenue to the Grand Central. Here at the establishment of the luggage-checking concessionaire

K

ord,

ed. Above its door showed the small blue sign that marked it as containing a telephone pay booth. For Trencher's purposes a closed booth in a small mercantile establishment was infinitely to be preferred to the public exchange in the terminal-less chance that

ulk into the booth, dropped the requisite coin in the slot and very promptly got back the answering hai

o this is, at this end? . . . Yes, that's right. Say, is the Kid there-Kid Dineen? . . . Go

ed his voice to a cautious half-whisper, vibrant and tense with u

Get some coin off of Monty, if you haven't got enough on you. Then you beat it over to the Pennsylvania Station and buy me a ticket for Pittsburgh and a section in the sleeper on the train that leaves round one-twenty-five to-night. Then go over on Ninth Avenue to Silver's place--What? . . . Yes; sure, that's the place. Wait for me there in the little room upstairs over the bar, on the second floor. They've got to make a bluff of closing up at one,

ain before he entered the big Bellhaven Hotel by its Forty-second-Street door. At sight of him a bell boy ran across the lobby and took from him his burden. The boy followed him, a pace in the rear, to the

raised Trencher with a practiced eye

er, taking the pen which the clerk ha

er registered as M. K. Potter, Stamford, Conn. Meanwhile the clerk h

d I don't want to be dis

th floor, with the door locked on the inside, had sprung the catch of the brown suit case and was spreading its con

hrough the pockets of the suit, finding several letters addressed to Marcus K. Parker at an address in Broad Street, down in the financial district. Sewn in the lining of the inner breast pocket of the coat was a

siness in New York. Accepting this as the correct hypothesis the rest of the riddle was easy to

he had packed his street clothes into the bag and brought it uptown with him and checked it at the Grand Central

own pockets of the money they contained, both bills and silver, and of sundry personal belongings, such as a small pocketknife, a fountain pen, a condensed railway guide and the slip of pasteboard that represented the hat and coat left behin

onfidence man who had shot a fellow crook, nor yet would he be the Thompson who had sent a darky for a bag, nor the Tracy who had picked a guest's pocket at a fashionable restaurant, nor yet the Potter who had engaged a room with bath for a night. From ov

ve at least twelve hours' start, even though the authorities were nimble-witted enough to join up the smaller mystery of an abandoned suit case belonging to one man and an abandoned outfit of clothing belonging to another, with the greater and seemingly unconnected mystery of the vanishment of the susp

lls. Nothing remained to be disposed of or accounted for save the pasteboard square that represented the coat and hat left behind at the Clarenden. When this had been torn into fine and indistinguishable

ed to cogitate. What had been forgotten? What had he overlooked? What had he left undone that should have been done? Then suddenly appreciation of the thing missing came to him and in a quic

e hole drilled through the centre of it-that was what was gone-his token, his talisman, his charm against evil fortune.

had no hope and no fear for the hereafter, who had felt no stabs of regret or repentance for having killed a man, whose thoughts had never known re

ry one of us is some quirk, some vagary, some dear senseless delusion, avowed or private. As for Trencher, the one crotchet in his cool brain centred about that worthle

ince Trencher was neither formally accused of nor formally indicted for any offence and had no previous record of convictions, had forced him to undergo the ordeals, ethically so repugnant to the instincts of the professional thief, of being measured and finger-printed and photographed, side face and full face. He had cursed and protested and pleaded when Murtha confiscated the luck piece; he had rejoiced when Murtha, seeing no harm in the thing, had

plete remembrance. He had slipped it into the right-hand pocket of the new tan-coloured topcoat-to impregnate the garment with good luck and to enhance the prospects for a successful working-out of the scheme to despoil the Wyoming cattleman; and he had left it the

had retained the pasteboard square that stood for possession of the coat itself. He gave thanks to the unclean spirits of his superstition that apprehension of his loss had come t

spread the general alarm for a man of such and such a height and such and such a weight, with such a nose and such eyes and such hair and all the rest of it. It might be that the Clarenden was being watched, along with the other public resorts in the immediate vicinity of where the homicide had been committed. It might even be that back in the Clarenden he would encounter the real Parker face to face. Suppose Parker had finished his supper and had discovered his loss-losses r

y with him and went down in an elevator, taking care to avoid using the same elevator that shortly before brought him up to this floo

looking upward at a diagonal slant could see through the windows along the front side of the Clarenden with some prospect of making out the faces of such diners as sat at tables near the windows. Straining his eyes as he crossed over, Trencher thought he recognised hi

d went up the flight of stairs from the sidewalk into the building. No one inside made as if to halt him; no one so far as he could tell gave him in passing even an impersonal look. There was a wash room, as Tren

boy he surrendered hat and overcoat, and then in the midst of a feint at hitching up h

fit; "left it in the café. Say, kid, watch my ha

the youth. "I'll ta

other coat and another hat-that was certain. As he neared his goal he noted that both the maids on the outside of the booth were for the instant engaged in helping the members of a group of men and women on with their outdoor wraps. So much the better for him. He

with my supper yet. But just let me have my coat for one minute, will you, pl

ed hooks for whatsoever articles would be on the hook bearing corresponding figures. To Trencher, dreading the advent of the Stamford man out of the Chinese room alongside him a

curiosity nor interest in her face, the girl laid across her counter the tan-coloured overcoat,

Just one moment and I'l

ell in throttling the eager note in his voice as h

er's heart jumped with relief and gratification. No need for him to look to make sure that he had his luck piece. He knew it by its feel and its heft and its size; besides the tip of one finger, sliding over its smooth rimless surface, had found in the centre of it the depression of the worn hole, and the se

street told him it was just five minutes past midnight. He headed north, but for a few rods only. At Fortieth Street he turned west for a short block and at Seventh Avenue he hailed a south-bound t

while in the locked room in the Bellhaven, because now he had in his custody that which gave him, in double and triple measure, the sense of assurance. One hand was thrust deep into his trousers pocket, where it caressed and fondled the fla

m this circumstance Trencher felt sure he had come to the rendezvous before the Kid arrived. Alongside the saloon door he felt his way into a narrow entryway that was as black as a coal bunker and went up a flight of wooden steps to the second floor. At the head of the steps he fumbled with his hand until he found a doorknob. As he knew, this door would not be locked except from the inside

ehind him. "Now that you've go

ulder he looked into the middle-aged face of Murtha, of the Central Office. Murtha's right hand w

Trencher steadily enou

you are without making any breaks until

ng still to him, and one of his hands, the left one, with deft mov

ng your hands down slow, and keep 'em close together. That's it-slow. I

rms about Trencher's middle and found first one of Trencher's wrists

back a pace or two, "I guess yo

eld in enforced companionship by the short chain

mptuous tone. "You never heard of me starting any ro

e guy he's liable to get the habit of bumping off other guys. Even a sw

n! Who says I bum

neither here nor there, unless you feel like telling me al

ious to know what made you start in using a cannon on folks all

me wrong. You can't frame me for something I didn't do. If somebody fixed Sonntag

n radiated from him. "You can stall some people, son, but you can't stall me. I've got you and I've got the goods on you-that's sufficient. But before you and me glide d

springing a catch which he found on the in

might as well come clean with me. I'll say this for Sonntag-he's been overdue for a croaking this long time. If I've got to spare anybody out of my life I guess it might as well be him-that's how I stand. He belonged to the Better-Dead Club to start with, Sonntag did. If it was self-defence and you can pr

f friendly. Trencher merely shook his h

said. "You haven't got a th

ylight, but you chucked your chance when you came back to the Clarenden a little while ago. But at that I was expecting you; in fact, I don't mind telling you that I was standing behind some curtains not fifteen feet from that check room when you showed up. I could have grabbed you then, of course, but just between you and me I didn't want to run the risk of having to split the credit fifty-fifty with any bull, in harness or out of it, that might com

t behind you, and I came up these steps here not ten feet behind

ause there's nothing to admit-I'd like to know, if you don't mind, how you dope it out that I ha

by rights this was a night off for me. I had a date at the Clarenden at eleven-thirty to eat a bite with a broth

r's benny and dicer

clothes men that's working on the case tells me a tall guy in a brown derby hat and a short yellow overcoat is supposed to have pulled off the job. That didn't mean anything to me, and even if it had

hat a minute later in that Chinese room the same fellow butts into him. That gives me an idea, but I don't tell Parker what's on my mind. I sends the head waiter for the house detective, and when the house detective comes I show him my badge, and on the strength of that he lets me and Parker go into the cloak room. Parker's hoping to find his own coat and I'm pretending to help him look for it, but what I'm really looking for is a

hang round the door keeping out of sight behind them draperies where I can watch the check room. Be

a question, but Trencher sta

you bellyached so loud because I took a bum old coin off of you? Well, when I went through that yellow overcoat and found your luck piece, as you call it, in the right-hand p

t you'd hang round making a hunt for it on the floor or something. You didn't though. I gu

ly jostled out of his pose by these last word

his trousers pocket and

t it now?" he demanded gle

all," answered Trencher

e had to twist his body sidewise before he cou

then brought forth something

e dollar, but a big overcoat button the size of a trade dollar-a flat, smooth, rimless disk of smoked pearl with a tiny depression in

from him, and with a sickly pallor of fright and surrender stea

bucking the game after your luck is gone? Come o