Shorty McCabe on the Job Read online

  SHORTY McCABE ON THE JOB

  by

  SEWELL FORD

  Author of Shorty Mccabe, Side-Stepping with Shorty, Etc.

  Illustrated by F. Vaux Wilson

  "It might give us some clew," says I, "as to what him andyour paw had a run-in about."]

  New YorkGrosset & DunlapPublishers

  Copyright, 1913, 1914, 1915, bySewell FordCopyright, 1915, byEdward J. ClodeAll rights reserved

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE

  I. Wishing a New One on Shorty 1 II. A Few Squirms by Bayard 18 III. Peeking in on Pedders 32 IV. Two Singles to Goober 49 V. The Case of a Female Party 65 VI. How Millie Shook the Jinx 81 VII. Reverse English on Sonny Boy 100 VIII. Gumming Gopher to the Map 115 IX. What Lindy Had up Her Sleeve 131 X. A Case of Nobody Home 150 XI. Under the Wire with Edwin 165 XII. A Fifty-Fifty Split with Hunk 182 XIII. A Follow Through by Eggy 198 XIV. Catching up with Gerald 217 XV. Shorty Hears from Pemaquid 233 XVI. Scratch One on Bulgaroo 251 XVII. Bayard Ducks His Past 267 XVIII. Trailing Dudley Through a Trance 285 XIX. A Little While with Alvin 304

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  "It might give us some clew," says I, "as to what him and your paw has a run-in about" Frontispiece

  FACING PAGE"I wouldn't have anything happen to you for the world," says I 8

  "Now see hea-uh, Mistuh Constable," says he, "I wouldn't go for to do anything like that" 60

  "Say, I'm a bear for Paris" 97

  "Now, friends," he calls, "everybody in on the chorus" 124

  "What's the idea," says Mabel, "wishin' this Rube stuff on us?" 157

  He sidles up to the desk and proceeds to make some throaty noises 199

  Blamed if Dudley don't have the nerve to tow Veronica into the next room, stretchin' on tiptoe to talk in her ear 298

  SHORTY McCABE ON THE JOB

  CHAPTER I

  WISHING A NEW ONE ON SHORTY

  Do things just happen, like peculiar changes in the weather, or is therea general scheme on file somewhere? Is it a free-for-all we're mixed upin--with our Harry Thaws and our Helen Kellers; our white slavers, ourwhite hopes, and our white plague campaigns; our trunk murders, and ourfire heroes? Or are we runnin' on schedule and headed somewhere?

  I ain't givin' you the answer. I'm just slippin' you the proposition,with the side remark that now and then, when the jumble seems worse thanever, you can get a glimpse of what might be a clew, or might not.

  Anyway, here I was, busy as a little bee, blockin' right hooks and bodyjabs that was bein' shot at me by a husky young uptown minister who's aheadliner at his job, I understand, but who's developin' a good, usefulpunch on the side. I was just landin' a cross wallop to the ribs, by wayof keepin' him from bein' too ambitious with his left, when out of thetail of my eye I notices Swifty Joe edgin' in with a card in his paw.

  "Time out!" says I, steppin' back and droppin' my guard. "Well, Swifty,what's the scandal?"

  "Gent waitin' to see you," says he.

  "Let him wait, then," says I.

  "Ah-r-r-r, but he's a reg'lar gent!" protests Swifty, fingerin' thecard.

  "Even so, he'll keep five minutes more, won't he?" says I.

  "But he--he's----" begins Swifty, strugglin' to connect that mightyintellect of his with his tongue.

  "Ah, read off the name," says I. "Is it Mayor Mitchel, Doc Wilson, orwho?"

  "It says J. B-a-y-a-r-d Ste--Steele," says Swifty.

  "Eh?" says I, gawpin'. "Lemme see. Him! Say, Swifty, you go back andtell J. Bayard that if he's got nerve enough to want to see me, it'll bea case of wait. And if he's at all messy about it, I give you leave toroll him downstairs. The front of some folks! Come on now, Dominie!Cover up better with that right mitt: I'm goin' to push in a few on youthis time."

  And if you never saw a Fifth avenue preacher well lathered up you shouldhave had a glimpse of this one at the end of the next round. He's game,though; even thanks me for it puffy.

  "You're welcome," says I. "Maybe I did steam 'em in a bit; but I expectit was because I had my mind on that party out front. While you'rerubbin' down I'll step in and attend to his case. If I could only wish apair of eight-ounce gloves on him for a few minutes!"

  So, without stoppin' to change, or even sheddin' the mitts, I walks intothe front office, to discover this elegant party in the stream-linecutaway pacin' restless up and down the room. Yes, he sure is someimposin' to look at, with his pearl gray spats, and the red necktieblazin' brilliant under the close-clipped crop of Grand Duke whiskers. Idon't know what there is special about a set of frosted face shubb'rythat sort of suggests bank presidents and so on, but somehow they do.Them and the long, thin nose gives him a pluty, distinguished look, inspite of the shifty eyes and the weak mouth lines. But I ain't in a moodto be impressed.

  "Well?" says I snappy.

  I expect my appearin' in a cut-out jersey, with my shoulder musclesstill bunched, must have jarred him a little; for he lifts his eyebrowsdoubtful and asks, "Er--Professor McCabe, is it?"

  "Uh-huh," says I. "What'll it be?"

  "My name," says he, "is Steele."

  "I know," says I. "Snug fit too, I judge."

  He flushes quick and stiffens. "Do you mean to infer, Sir, that----"

  "You're on," says I. "The minute I heard your name I placed you for thesmooth party that tried to unload a lot of that phony Radio stock onMrs. Benny Sherwood. Wanted to euchre her out of the twenty thousandlife insurance she got when Benny took the booze count last winter, eh?Well, it happens she's a friend of Mrs. McCabe, and it was through meyour little scheme was blocked. Now I guess we ought to be real wellacquainted."

  But I might have known such crude stuff wouldn't get under the hide of apolished article like J. Bayard. He only shrugs his shoulders and smilessarcastic.

  "The pleasure seems to be all mine," says he. "But as you choose. Who amI to contend with the defender of the widow and the orphan that betweenissuing a stock and trading in it there is a slight difference? Howeverdeeply I am distressed by your private opinion of me, I shall tryto----"

  "Ah, ditch the sarcasm," says I, "and spring your game! What is it thistrip, a wire-tappin' scheme, or just plain green goods?"

  "You flatter me," says J. Bayard. "No, my business of the moment is notto appropriate any of the princely profits of your--er--honest toil,"and he stops for another of them acetic-acid smiles.

  "Yes," says I, "it is a batty way of gettin' money--workin' for it, eh?But go on. Whatcher mean you lost your dog?"

  "I--er--I beg pardon?" says he.

  "Ah, get down to brass tacks!" says I. "You ain't payin' a society call,I take it?"

  He gets that. And what do you guess comes next? Well, he hands over anote. It's from a lawyer's office, askin' him to call at two P.M. thatday to meet with me, as it reads, "and discuss a matter of mutualinterest and advantage." It's signed "R. K. Judson, Attorney."

  "Well, couldn't you wait?" says I. "It's only eleven-thirty now, youknow."

  "It is merely a question," say
s Steele, "of whether or not I shall go atall."

  "So you hunt me up to do a little private sleuthin' first, eh?" says I.

  "It is only natural," says he. "I don't know this Mr.--er--Judson, orwhat he wants of me."

  "No more do I," says I. "And the notice I got didn't mention you at all;so you have that much edge on me."

  "And you are going?" says he.

  "I'll take a chance, sure," says I. "Maybe I'll button my pockets alittle tighter, and tuck my watchfob out of sight; but no lawyer canthrow a scare into me just by askin' me to call. Besides, it says'mutual interest and advantage,' don't it?"

  "H-m-m-m!" says Mr. Steele, after gazin' at the note thoughtful. "So itdoes. But lawyers have a way of----" Here he breaks off sudden and asks,"You say you never heard of this Mr. Judson before?"

  "That's where you fool yourself," says I. "I said I didn't know him; butif it'll relieve your mind any, I've heard him mentioned. He used tohandle Pyramid Gordon's private affairs."

  "Ah! Gordon!" says Steele, his shifty eyes narrowin'. "Yes, yes! Diedabroad a month or so ago, didn't he?"

  "In Rome," says I. "The rheumatism got to his heart. He could see itcomin' to him before he left. Poor old Pyramid!"

  "Indeed?" says Steele. "And was Gordon--er--a friend of yours, may Iask?"

  "One of my best," says I. "Know him, did you?"

  Mr. Steele darts a quick glance at me. "Rather!" says he.

  "Then there can't be so much myst'ry about this note, then," says I."Maybe he's willed us a trinket or so. Friend of yours too, I expect?"

  J. Bayard almost grins at that. "I have no good reason to doubt," sayshe, "that Pyramid Gordon hated me quite as thoroughly and actively as Idisliked him."

  "He was good at that too," says I. "Had a little run-in with him, didyou?"

  "One that lasted something like twenty years," says Steele.

  "Oh!" says I. "Fluffs or finance?"

  "I wouldn't have anything happen to you for the world,"says I.]

  "Purely a business matter," says he. "It began in Chicago, back in thegood old days when trade was unhampered by fool administrations. At thetime, if I may mention the fact, I had some little prominence as a poolorganizer. We were trying to corner July wheat,--getting along verynicely too,--when your friend Gordon got in our way. He had managed tosecure control of a dinky grain-carrying railroad and a few elevators.On the strength of that he demanded that we let him in. So we wereforced to take measures to--er--eliminate him."

  "And Pyramid wouldn't be eliminated, eh?" says I.

  J. Bayard shrugs his shoulders careless and spreads out his hands."Gordon luck!" says he. "Of course we were unprepared for such methodsas he employed against us. Up to that time no one had thought ofstealing an advance copy of the government crop report and using it tobreak the market. However, it worked. Our corner went to smash. I wascleaned out. You might have thought that would have satisfied most men;but not Pyramid Gordon! Why, he even pushed things so far as to sell outmy office furniture, and bought the brass signs, with my name on them,to hang in his own office, as a Sioux Indian displays a scalp, or aMindanao head hunter ornaments his gatepost with his enemy's skull. Thatwas the beginning; and while my opportunities for paying off the scorehave been somewhat limited, I trust I have neglected none. Andnow--well, I can't possibly see why the closing up of his affairsshould interest me at all. Can you?"

  "Say, you don't think I'm doin' any volunteer frettin' on your account,do you?" says I.

  "I quite understand," says he. "But about seeing this lawyer--do youadvise me to go?"

  He's squintin' at me foxy out of them shifty eyes of his, cagy andsuspicious, like we was playin' some kind of a game. You know the sortof party J. Bayard is--if you don't, you're lucky. So what's the usewastin' breath? I steps over and opens the front office door.

  "Don't chance it," says I. "I wouldn't have anything happen to you forthe world. I'll tell Judson I've come alone, to talk for the dictographand stand on the trapdoor. And as you go down the stairs there betterwalk close to the wall."

  J. Bayard, still smilin', takes the hint. "Oh, I may turn up, afterall," says he as he leaves.

  "Huh!" says I, indicatin' deep scorn.

  But if I'd been curious before about this invite to the law office, Iwas more so now. So shortly after two I was on hand. And I find Mr.Steele has beat me to it by a minute or so. He's camped in the waitin'room, lookin' as imposin' and elegant as ever.

  "Well, you ain't been sandbagged or jabbed with a poison needle yet, Isee," says I.

  He glances around uneasy. "Mr. Judson is coming," says he. "They said hewas--here he is!"

  Nothin' terrifyin' about Judson, either. He's a slim-built, youngishlookin' party, with an easy, quiet way of talkin', a friendly, confidin'smile; but about the keenest, steadiest pair of brown eyes I ever hadturned loose on me. He shakes us cordial by the hand, thanks us forbein' prompt, and tows us into his private office.

  "I have the papers all ready," says he.

  "That's nice," says I. "And maybe sometime or other you can tell us whatit's all about?"

  "At once," says he. "You are named as co-executors with me for theestate of the late Curtis B. Gordon."

  At which J. Bayard gasps. "I?" says he. "An executor for PyramidGordon?"

  Judson nods. "I understand," says he, "that you were--ah--not onfriendly terms with Mr. Gordon. But he was a somewhat unusual man, youknow. In this instance, for example, he has selected Professor McCabe,whom he designates as one of his most trusted friends, and yourself,whom he designates as his--ah--oldest enemy. No offense, I hope?"

  "Quite accurate, so far as I am concerned," says Steele.

  "Very well," says the lawyer. "Then I may read the terms of his willthat he wishes us to carry out."

  And, believe me, even knowin' some of the odd streaks of Pyramid Gordonthe way I did, this last and final sample had me bug-eyed before Judsongot through! It starts off straight enough, with instructions to dealout five thousand here and ten there, to various parties,--his oldoffice manager, his man Minturn, that niece of his out in Denver, and soon. But when it come to his scheme for disposin' of the bulk of hispile--well, just lemme sketch it for you!

  Course, I can't give it to you the way Pyramid had it put down; but herewas the gen'ral plan: Knowin' he had to take the count, he'd beenchewin' things over. He wa'n't squealin', or tryin' to square himselfeither here or beyond. He'd lived his own life in his own way, and hewas standin' pat on his record. He knew he'd put over some raw deals;but the same had been handed to him. Maybe he'd hit back at timesharder'n he'd been hit. If he had, he wa'n't sorry. He'd only played thegame accordin' to the rules he knew.

  Still, now that it was most over, he had in mind a few cases where he'dalways meant to sort of even things up if he could. There was certainparties he'd thrown the hooks into kind of deep maybe, durin' the heatof the scrap; and afterwards, from time to time, he'd thought he mighthave a chance to do 'em a good turn,--help 'em back to their feet again,or something like that. But somehow, with bein' so busy, and kind of outof practice at that sort of thing, he'd never got around to any of 'em.So now he was handin' over the job to us, all in a lump.

  "And I have here," goes on Mr. Judson, exhibitin' a paper, "a list ofnames and addresses. They are the persons, Mr. Steele, on whose behalfyou are requested, with the advice and help of Professor McCabe, toperform some kind and generous act. My part will be merely to handle thefunds." And he smiles confidin' at J. Bayard.

  Mr. Steele has been listenin' close, his ears cocked, and them shiftyeyes of his takin' in every move; but at this last he snorts. "Do youmean to say," says he, "that I am asked to--er--to play the good fairyto persons who have been wronged by Pyramid Gordon?"

  "Precisely," says the lawyer. "They number something over twenty, Ibelieve; but the fund provided is quite ample--nearly three millions, ifwe are able to realize on all the securities."

  "But this is absurd," says J. Bayard, "asking me to distribute gifts an
dso on to a lot of strangers with whom I have nothing in common, except,perhaps, a common enemy! A fine time I'd have, wouldn't I, explainingthat----"

  "Pardon me," breaks in Judson, "but one of the conditions is that itmust all be done anonymously; at least, so far as the late Mr. Gordon isconcerned. As for your own identity in the several cases, you may makeit known or not, as you see fit."

  "How truly fascinating!" sneers Mr. Steele, gettin' up and reachin' forhis hat. "To go about like an unseen ministering angel, trying to salvethe bygone bruises of those who were unlucky enough to get in PyramidGordon's way! Beautiful! But unfortunately I have other affairs."

  He was startin' for the door too, when Judson smiles quiet and holds upa stayin' hand. "Just a moment more," says the lawyer. "You may beinterested to hear of another disposition decided upon by Mr. Gordon inthe event of your refusal to act in this capacity."

  "He might have known me better," says Steele.

  "Perhaps he did," says Judson. "I should hardly say that he lackedinsight or shrewdness. He was a man too, who was quite accustomed tohaving his own way. In this instance he had rather a respectable fortuneto dispose of according to his own somewhat original ideas. Leave it topublic institutions he would not. He was thoroughly opposed to what hetermed post-mortem philanthropy of the general kind. To quote his ownwords, 'I am not enough of a hypocrite to believe that a society basedon organized selfishness can right its many wrongs by spasmodic gifts toorganized charity.'"

  J. Bayard shifts uneasy on his feet and smothers a yawn. "All veryinteresting, I'm sure," says he; "but really, you know, PyramidGordon's theories on such matters do not----"

  "I am merely suggesting," breaks in the lawyer, "that you may care toglance over another list of twenty names. These are the persons amongwhom Mr. Gordon's estate will be divided if the first plan cannot becarried out."

  Mr. Steele hesitates; but he fin'lly fishes out a pair of swell nosepinchers that he wears hung from a wide ribbon, and assumes a boredexpression. He don't hold that pose long. He couldn't have read more'n athird of the names before he shows signs of bein' mighty int'rested.

  "Why, see here!" says he. "I'd like to know, Sir, where in thunder yougot this list!"

  "Yes, I thought you would," says Judson. "It was quite simple. Perhapsyou remember, a few days ago, meeting a friendly, engaging young man inthe cafe of your hotel? Asked you to join him at luncheon, I believe,and talked vaguely about making investments?"

  "Young Churchill?" says J. Bayard.

  "Correct," says the lawyer. "One of our brightest young men.Entertaining talker too. And if I'm not mistaken, it was he who opened agood-natured discussion as to the limit of actual personal acquaintancewhich the average man has, ending by his betting fifty dollars--ratherfoolishly, I admit--that you could not remember the names and addressesof twenty persons whom you actually disliked. Well, you won. Here is thelist you made out."

  And the stunned way J. Bayard gawps at the piece of paper brings out asnicker from me. He flushes up at that and glares down at Judson.

  "Tactics worthy of a Tombs lawyer!" says he. "I congratulate you on yourhigh-class legal methods!"

  "Oh, not at all," says Judson. "A suggestion of Mr. Gordon's. Anotherevidence of his insight into character, as well as his foresight intoevents. So, you see, Mr. Steele, if you decline to become the benefactorof Mr. Gordon's enemies, his money goes to yours!"

  "The old fox!" snarls J. Bayard. "Why--I--let me see that list again."

  It's no more'n gripped in his fingers than he steps back quick andbegins tearin' it to bits. I'd jumped for him and had his wristsclinched when Judson waves me off.

  "Only a copy," says he smilin'. "I have several more. Sit down, Mr.Steele, and let me give you another."

  Kind of dazed and subdued, J. Bayard submits to bein' pushed into achair. After a minute or so he fixes his glasses again, and beginsstarin' at the fresh list, mumblin' over some of the names to himself.

  "To them! Three millions!" says he gaspy.

  "Roughly estimated," says Judson, "that would be about one hundred andfifty thousand dollars apiece which you would, in effect, hand over."

  "And the only way to keep them from getting it," goes on Steele, "is forme to spend my time hunting up Pyramid Gordon's lot?"

  "Not entirely without recompense," adds the lawyer. "As an inducementfor doing the work thoroughly, I am authorized to give you a commissionon all you spend in that way."

  "How much?" demands the other.

  "Twenty per cent.," says Judson. "For instance, if in doing some kindand generous deed for a person on Mr. Gordon's list, you spend, say,five thousand, you get a thousand for yourself."

  "Ah!" says Steele, perkin' up consider'ble.

  "The only condition being," goes on the lawyer, "that in each case yourkind and generous proposals must have the indorsement and approval ofProfessor McCabe, who is asked to give his advice in these matters on afive per cent. basis. I may add that a like amount comes to me in placeof any other fee. So you see this is to be a joint enterprise. Is thatsatisfactory to you, Mr. McCabe?"

  "It's more'n I usually get for my advice," says I, "and I guess PyramidGordon knew well enough he didn't have to pay for anything like thatfrom me. But if that's the way he planned it out, it goes."

  "And you, Mr. Steele?" says Judson.

  "One dollar for every five that I can spend of Pyramid Gordon's money?"says he, wrinklin' his eye corners. "With pleasure! When may I begin?"

  "Now," says Judson, reachin' prompt into a pigeonhole and producin' asealed envelope. "Here is the first name on the list. When you bring meProfessor McCabe's indorsement of any expenses incurred, or sum to bepaid out, I shall give you a check at once."

  And, say, the last I see of J. Bayard he was driftin' through the door,gazin' absentminded at the envelope, like he was figurin' on how muchhe could grab off at the first swipe. I gazes after him thoughtful untilthe comic side of it struck me.

  "This is a hot combination we're in, eh?" I chuckles to the lawyer gent."Steele, Judson & McCabe, Joy Distributers; with J. Bayard therewieldin' the fairy wand. Why, say, I'd as quick think of askin' ScrappyMcGraw to preside at a peace conference!"

  Mr. Judson's busy packin' away his papers in a document case; but hesmiles vague over his shoulder.

  "Honest now," I goes on, "do you think our friend will make good as thehead of the sunshine department?"

  "That," says Judson, "is a matter which Mr. Gordon seems to have leftwholly to you."

  "Eh?" says I, doin' the gawp act sudden on my own account. "Well, postme for a Bush League yannigan if it don't listen that way! Then I cansee where I'll be earnin' my five per cent. all right, and yet some!Referee for a kind deeds campaign! Good night, Sister Sue! But it's onold Pyramid's account; so let J. Bayard shoot 'em in!"