Within the Law: From the Play of Bayard Veiller Read online

  CHAPTER VIII. A TIP FROM HEADQUARTERS.

  Presently, when she had finished the cigarette, Aggie proceeded to herown chamber and there spent a considerable time in making a toilettecalculated to set off to its full advantage the slender daintiness ofher form. When at last she was gowned to her satisfaction, she wentinto the drawing-room of the apartment and gave herself over to morecigarettes, in an easy chair, sprawled out in an attitude of comfortnever taught in any finishing school for young ladies. She at the sametime indulged her tastes in art and literature by reading the jokes andstudying the comic pictures in an evening paper, which the maid broughtin at her request. She had about exhausted this form of amusement whenthe coming of Joe Garson, who was usually in and out of the apartmenta number of times daily, provided a welcome diversion. After a casualgreeting between the two, Aggie explained, in response to his question,that Mary had gone out to keep an engagement with Dick Gilder.

  There was a little period of silence while the man, with the resoluteface and the light gray eyes that shone so clearly underneath the thick,waving silver hair, held his head bent downward as if in intent thought.When, finally, he spoke, there was a certain quality in his voice thatcaused Aggie to regard him curiously.

  "Mary has been with him a good deal lately," he said, halfquestioningly.

  "That's what," was the curt agreement.

  Garson brought out his next query with the brutal bluntness of his kind;and yet there was a vague suggestion of tenderness in his tones underthe vulgar words.

  "Think she's stuck on him?" He had seated himself on a settee oppositethe girl, who did not trouble on his account to assume a posture moredecorous, and he surveyed her keenly as he waited for a reply.

  "Why not?" Aggie retorted. "Bet your life I'd be, if I had a chance.He's a swell boy. And his father's got the coin, too."

  At this the man moved impatiently, and his eyes wandered to the window.Again, Aggie studied him with a swift glance of interrogation. Not beingthe possessor of an over-nice sensibility as to the feelings of others,she now spoke briskly.

  "Joe, if there's anything on your mind, shoot it."

  Garson hesitated for a moment, then decided to unburden himself, for hecraved precise knowledge in this matter.

  "It's Mary," he explained, with some embarrassment; "her and youngGilder."

  "Well?" came the crisp question.

  "Well, somehow," Garson went on, still somewhat confusedly, "I can't seeany good of it, for her."

  "Why?" Aggie demanded, in surprise.

  Garson's manner grew easier, now that the subject was well broached.

  "Old man Gilder's got a big pull," he vouchsafed, "and if he caught onto his boy's going with Mary, he'd be likely to send the police afterus--strong! Believe me, I ain't looking for any trip up the river."

  Aggie shook her head, quite unaffected by the man's suggestion ofpossible peril in the situation.

  "We ain't done nothin' they can touch us for," she declared, withassurance. "Mary says so."

  Garson, however, was unconvinced, notwithstanding his deference to thejudgment of his leader.

  "Whether we've done anything, or whether we haven't, don't matter," heobjected. "Once the police set out after you, they'll get you. Russiaain't in it with some of the things I have seen pulled off in thistown."

  "Oh, can that 'fraid talk!" Aggie exclaimed, roughly. "I tell you theycan't get us. We've got our fingers crossed."

  She would have said more, but a noise at the hall door interrupted her,and she looked up to see a man in the opening, while behind him appearedthe maid, protesting angrily.

  "Never mind that announcing thing with me," the newcomer rasped to theexpostulating servant, in a voice that suited well his thick-set figure,with the bullet-shaped head and the bull-like neck. Then he turned tothe two in the drawing-room, both of whom had now risen to their feet.

  "It's all right, Fannie," Aggie said hastily to the flustered maid. "Youcan go."

  As the servant, after an indignant toss of the head, departed along thepassage, the visitor clumped heavily forward and stopped in the centerof the room, looking first at one and then the other of the two with asmile that was not pleasant. He was not at pains to remove the derbyhat which he wore rather far back on his head. By this single sign, onemight have recognized Cassidy, who had had Mary Turner in his chargeon the occasion of her ill-fated visit to Edward Gilder's office, fouryears before, though now the man had thickened somewhat, and his ruddyface was grown even coarser.

  "Hello, Joe!" he cried, familiarly. "Hello, Aggie!"

  The light-gray eyes of the forger had narrowed perceptibly as herecognized the identity of the unceremonious caller, while the lines ofhis firmly set mouth took on an added fixity.

  "Well?" he demanded. His voice was emotionless.

  "Just a little friendly call," Cassidy announced, in his strident voice."Where's the lady of the house?"

  "Out." It was Aggie who spoke, very sharply.

  "Well, Joe," Cassidy went on, without paying further heed to the girlfor a moment, "when she comes back, just tell her it's up to her to makea get-away, and to make it quick."

  But Aggie was not one to be ignored under any circumstances. Now, shespoke with some acerbity in her voice, which could at will be wondroussoft and low.

  "Say!" she retorted viciously, "you can't throw any scare into us. Youhadn't got anything on us. See?"

  Cassidy, in response to this outburst, favored the girl with a longstare, and there was hearty amusement in his tones as he answered.

  "Nothing on you, eh? Well, well, let's see." He regarded Garson with agrin. "You are Joe Garson, forger." As he spoke, the detective took anote-book from a pocket, found a page, and then read: "First arrested in1891, for forging the name of Edwin Goodsell to a check for ten thousanddollars. Again arrested June 19, 1893, for forgery. Arrested in April,1898, for forging the signature of Oscar Hemmenway to a series of bondsthat were counterfeit. Arrested as the man back of the Reilly gang, in1903. Arrested in 1908 for forgery."

  There was no change in the face or pose of the man who listened to thereading. When it was done, and the officer looked up with a resumptionof his triumphant grin, Garson spoke quietly.

  "Haven't any records of convictions, have you?"

  The grin died, and a snarl sprang in its stead.

  "No," he snapped, vindictively. "But we've got the right dope on you,all right, Joe Garson." He turned savagely on the girl, who now hadregained her usual expression of demure innocence, but with herrather too heavy brows drawn a little lower than their wont, under theinfluence of an emotion otherwise concealed.

  "And you're little Aggie Lynch," Cassidy declared, as he thrust thenote-book back into his pocket. "Just now, you're posing as MaryTurner's cousin. You served two years in Burnsing for blackmail. Youwere arrested in Buffalo, convicted, and served your stretch. Nothing onyou? Well, well!" Again there was triumph in the officer's chuckle.

  Aggie showed no least sign of perturbation in the face ofthis revelation of her unsavory record. Only an expression ofhalf-incredulous wonder and delight beamed from her widely opened blueeyes and was emphasized in the rounding of the little mouth.

  "Why," she cried, and now there was softness enough in the cooing notes,"my Gawd! It looks as though you had actually been workin'!"

  The sarcasm was without effect on the dull sensibilities of the officer.He went on speaking with obvious enjoyment of the extent to which hisknowledge reached.

  "And the head of the gang is Mary Turner. Arrested four years ago forrobbing the Emporium. Did her stretch of three years."

  "Is that all you've got about her?" Garson demanded, with suchabruptness that Cassidy forgot his dignity sufficiently to answer withan unqualified yes.

  The forger continued speaking rapidly, and now there was an undercurrentof feeling in his voice.

  "Nothing in your record of her about her coming out without a friendin the world, and trying to go straight? You ain't got nothing in th
atpretty little book of your'n about your going to the millinery storewhere she finally got a job, and tipping them off to where she comefrom?"

  "Sure, they was tipped off," Cassidy answered, quite unmoved. And headded, swelling visibly with importance: "We got to protect the city."

  "Got anything in that record of your'n," Garson went on venomously,"about her getting another job, and your following her up again, andhaving her thrown out? Got it there about the letter you had old Gilderwrite, so that his influence would get her canned?"

  "Oh, we had her right the first time," Cassidy admitted, complacently.

  Then, the bitterness of Garson's soul was revealed by the fierceness inhis voice as he replied.

  "You did not! She was railroaded for a job she never done. She went inhonest, and she came out honest."

  The detective indulged himself in a cackle of sneering merriment.

  "And that's why she's here now with a gang of crooks," he retorted.

  Garson met the implication fairly.

  "Where else should she be?" he demanded, violently. "You ain't gotnothing in that record about my jumping into the river after her?" Theforger's voice deepened and trembled with the intensity of his emotion,which was now grown so strong that any who listened and looked mightguess something of the truth as to his feeling toward this woman of whomhe spoke. "That's where I found her--a girl that never done nobody anyharm, starving because you police wouldn't give her a chance to work. Inthe river because she wouldn't take the only other way that was left herto make a living, because she was keeping straight!... Have you got anyof that in your book?"

  Cassidy, who had been scowling in the face of this arraignment, suddenlygave vent to a croaking laugh of derision.

  "Huh!" he said, contemptuously. "I guess you're stuck on her, eh?"

  At the words, an instantaneous change swept over Garson. Hitherto, hehad been tense, his face set with emotion, a man strong and sullen,with eyes as clear and heartless as those of a beast in the wild.Now, without warning, a startling transformation was wrought. His formstiffened to rigidity after one lightning-swift step forward, and hisface grayed. The eyes glowed with the fires of a man's heart in a spasmof hate. He was the embodiment of rage, as he spoke huskily, his voice awhisper that was yet louder than any shout.

  "Cut that!"

  The eyes of the two men locked. Cassidy struggled with all his prideagainst the dominant fury this man hurled on him.

  "What?" he demanded, blusteringly. But his tone was weaker than itswont.

  "I mean," Garson repeated, and there was finality in his accents, adeadly quality that was appalling, "I mean, cut it out--now, here, andall the time! It don't go!" The voice rose slightly. The effect of itwas more penetrant than a scream. "It don't go!... Do you get me?"

  There was a short interval of silence, then the officer's eyes at lastfell. It was Aggie who relieved the tension of the scene.

  "He's got you," she remarked, airily. "Oi, oi! He's got you!"

  There were again a few seconds of pause, and then Cassidy made anobservation that revealed in some measure the shock of the experience hehad just undergone.

  "You would have been a big man, Joe, if it hadn't been for that temperof yours. It's got you into trouble once or twice already. Some timeit's likely to prove your finish."

  Garson relaxed his immobility, and a little color crept into his cheeks.

  "That's my business," he responded, dully.

  "Anyway," the officer went on, with a new confidence, now that his eyeswere free from the gaze that had burned into his soul, "you've got toclear out, the whole gang of you--and do it quick."

  Aggie, who as a matter of fact began to feel that she was not receivingher due share of attention, now interposed, moving forward till her facewas close to the detective's.

  "We don't scare worth a cent," she snapped, with the virulence of avixen. "You can't do anything to us. We ain't broke the law." There camea sudden ripple of laughter, and the charming lips curved joyously, asshe added: "Though perhaps we have bent it a bit."

  Cassidy sneered, outraged by such impudence on the part of anex-convict.

  "Don't make no difference what you've done," he growled. "Gee!" he wenton, with a heavy sneer. "But things are coming to a pretty pass when agang of crooks gets to arguing about their rights. That's funny, thatis!"

  "Then laugh!" Aggie exclaimed, insolently, and made a face at theofficer. "Ha, ha, ha!"

  "Well, you've got the tip," Cassidy returned, somewhat disconcerted,after a stolid fashion of his own. "It's up to you to take it, that'sall. If you don't, one of you will make a long visit with some peopleout of town, and it'll probably be Mary. Remember, I'm giving it to youstraight."

  Aggie assumed her formal society manner, exaggerated to the point ofextravagance.

  "Do come again, little one," she chirruped, caressingly. "I've enjoyedyour visit so much!"

  But Cassidy paid no apparent attention to her frivolousness; only turnedand went noisily out of the drawing-room, offering no return to herdaintily inflected good-afternoon.

  For her own part, as she heard the outer door close behind thedetective, Aggie's expression grew vicious, and the heavy brows drewvery low, until the level line almost made her prettiness vanish.

  "The truck-horse detective!" she sneered. "An eighteen collar, and asix-and-a-half hat! He sure had his nerve, trying to bluff us!"

  But it was plain that Garson was of another mood. There was anxiety inhis face, as he stood staring vaguely out of the window.

  "Perhaps it wasn't a bluff, Aggie," he suggested.

  "Well, what have we done, I'd like to know?" the girl demanded,confidently. She took a cigarette and a match from the tabouret besideher, and stretched her feet comfortably, if very inelegantly, on a chairopposite.

  Garson answered with a note of weariness that was unlike him.

  "It ain't what you have done," he said, quietly. "It's what they canmake a jury think you've done. And, once they set out to get you--God,how they can frame things! If they ever start out after Mary----" He didnot finish the sentence, but sank down into his chair with a groan thatwas almost of despair.

  The girl replied with a burst of careless laughter.

  "Joe," she said gaily, "you're one grand little forger, all right, allright. But Mary's got the brains. Pooh, I'll string along with her asfar as she wants to go. She's educated, she is. She ain't like you andme, Joe. She talks like a lady, and, what's a damned sight harder,she acts like a lady. I guess I know. Wake me up any old night and askme--just ask me, that's all. She's been tryin' to make a lady out ofme!"

  The vivaciousness of the girl distracted the man for the moment fromthe gloom of his thoughts, and he turned to survey the speaker with acynical amusement.

  "Swell chance!" he commented, drily.

  "Oh, I'm not so worse! Just you watch out." The lively girl sprangup, discarded the cigarette, adjusted an imaginary train, and spokelispingly in a society manner much more moderate and convincing thanthat with which she had favored the retiring Cassidy. Voice, pose andgesture proclaimed at least the excellent mimic.

  "How do you do, Mrs. Jones! So good of you to call!... My dear MissSmith, this is indeed a pleasure." She seated herself again, quiteprimly now, and moved her hands over the tabouret appropriately to herwords. "One lump, or two?... Yes, I just love bridge. No, I don't play,"she continued, simpering; "but, just the same, I love it." With thisabsurd ending, Aggie again arranged her feet according to her liking onthe opposite chair. "That's the kind of stuff she's had me doing," sherattled on in her coarser voice, "and believe me, Joe, it's damned nearkilling me. But all the same," she hurried on, with a swift revulsionof mood to the former serious topic, "I'm for Mary strong! You stick toher, Joe, and you'll wear diamon's.... And that reminds me! I wish she'dlet me wear mine, but she won't. She says they're vulgar for an innocentcountry girl like her cousin, Agnes Lynch. Ain't that fierce?... How cananything be vulgar that's worth a hundred and fifty a carat?"