The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, January 17, 1904, Page 8

THE. SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. e dust t up in Har- d the way 1 money ? vy with ng about what you got; I'm simply was a special of the A. A expense officials wed. He nt to week rail- see the s expen: t which they re. The rail- concerned parties to difficult the case as prints at ustice t are t Harold Diprose paymaster of the A. A and B, was accustomed the first of every month to draw a sum in the private of & Co kers and brokers considerable which he took up th ne to be distributed on the @ifferent divisions. He usually was ¥ one John Bladen, mis- cellaneo not in un » and special officer way of body guard. the robbery occur- 1 into a conves of whom he could description whatever, A kept sandy rough d scolored hands, er beards and were dressed in soft hats and un- tidy, Joose fitting clothes considerably the worse for wear The next morning John Bladen was unable to present himself at the offices of the A. A. and B, and he stated later that he must e been given “peter drops.” but in support of this state- ment he could give > officials of the A. A. and B pothing whatever but his word. Whenr arold Diprose left the side on he styll hastening tow bankers and was 80 vio- shly dressed rd a cab lently jostled by t ¥ g men which stood in waiting for them that be lost his hold for & moment on the small val in which he carried his notes. Both young men apolo- profusely and one of them, whose had toppled over in the en- stopped to pick it up, and of- o to hand Diprose his valise, h, however, Diprose himself hastened to gain possession. “I trust you are not hurt—very awk- ward in me, I am sure,” said one of licitously lingering. all,” said Diprose. re rushing to keep a date, but Not “We v we did intend to taks e to look where we were going,’ said the other man bareheaded, while he hed the nap of his hat with his t to have looked where I was much my fault as ose cordially. “If vou explain you will miss your ood afternoon.” said the young men d entered the cab. morning,” said Diprose, and de his ¥ to the office of the '‘Good he m A. A i B., where he discovered that the small valise he held in his hands was not the same, except to the eye, as the small valise he had dropped on the pavement, and that the contents thereof werc not the same, nor of equzl value; and all of any conse- quence that he could remember of the two young men was that they both d sandy beards neatly trimmed and vds neatly gloved Therefore the iliustrious Minick ar- resied John Biaden and let him go ted a cabman and let gher officials loyed friends the illustrious Mi- again, and ar him go again, of the A. A and confidants of nick to keep Harold Diprose constant- ly_in sight Twe days after the adventure of Har-. old Diprose gnd the magic handbhdg there was arrested in the streets of a city, which a cotirtesy lu\\ard and even a regard for the ety of their friends (and then Ives) inclines the seribes to n-shaven, stylish- n, known to profession as Milly Matches, No. 2 His nom de guerre he had acquired in the when he was learning his trade; "he had disguised himself #s a girl in ‘the "tinte of his sl th and-bhad sold matc done other thing becs er thé number lnld been mld« d ame. He was committed for the moment to a local house of repose, and ultimately, after certain tedious-cere- monies, to the refuge of the Order of the Penitents, of which the sgreat Noaker was the official warden. At the time when Milly Matches first joined the Order of the Penitents in the refuge of which the great Noaker was warden the great Noaker was not fulfilling the duties of that office for his “health.” The warden of such a refuge is commonly expected to find it or to make it a “good thing“; and deeply as the scribes deplore the facts, they are compelled in justice to state that he had paid for the opportunity. For the rest, they permit tLemselves to record certain conversations and bits of narrative which came to ir knowl- edge through their friend, the illustri- ous Minick. Thomas Burpee and William Marts, the two great personages in striped clothes that Minick included in his list distinguished - acquaintances, were 1en whom he found very valuable to interview when there was an addition to the Order of the Penitents. Although y might not know the newcomer sonally, if he had any . ing In the underworld society were. pretty likely to be abie to tell the degree of his distinction, and to estimate more or less ~correctly the probable amount of “fall money” it was reasonable to suppose he had ‘at his disposal. In such matters the under world is very much like the upper— both worlds keep “‘tabs” on their celeb- rities, and the “A number one gun,” like the millionaire, is classified in a “Social Register” .and a “Who's ‘Who.” It was the opinion of Thomas Bur- pee and “William Marts, particularly because they knew the class he be- longed to, and partially because they had heard of some of his most recent enterprises, that Milly Matches was a penitent who would be glad to ray hard cash for mitigations of discipline, Therefore, Minick made haste to have an interview with the omnipotent and worldly-wise Noaker. “You mean thesyman has the stuff?” asked Noaker, after -Minick Lad told him of the reported financial status of Milly. “That's what Burpee and Marts say.” “It ain’t hardly right for a man to have the stuff and not to learn- the use of it. Seems irreligious like, an’ a kind o’ buryin® his talent.” “Think Hell's Kitchen ‘ud learn him?” Hell's Kitchen, in the speech of people who do not know what it means to work there, is the foundry. “There’s a heap o’ wisdom in a backache, if the bLack aches bad enough; bad enough an’ just a leetle bit too bad, s6’s to set a man a-thinkin’; what do you say to the foundry? You must be short o' hands in the foundry?” “I am always short o’ hands where- ever one'll do me the most good; but see here, Charley, I'm sick of driblets; there’s as much risk in this business in 4 little job as in a big one, an’ it's goin’ to take a pile to get out o' that foun- dry or there’s nothin’ doin".” Noaker found, as he expected, that he of YRDER5 e was short of hands in Hell's Kitchen, and te the kitchen, accordingly, ‘Milly was assigned. ' The work. preseribéd for him was of the fittest.sort to give him a 'backache “bad enough an’ most a leetle bit foo bad, so's to get him a- thinkin".” One morning early, when he had had some days in which to do his thinking, and as Noaker said, “to get wise off his back,” he was toiling with a white-hot Jar of iron when Timlin and Culp found it possible to stray past him and to lin- ger a minute at his side. They had previously had a little chat with the as- tute Minick—which may have nothing to do with the case. The scribes know only that in Hell's Kitchen Timlin and Culp;"in their ordinary duties, had no business whatever. “Kind of a foretaste of bein’ fried in yer own grease, ain’t n pard?* Culp ventured. . “Hot's hell and twice as thirsty,” said Milly, pausing a moment to scrape the perspiration. from his face and arms with the edge of his hand. “Ain’t got a gin fizz in yer jeans? I was jus’ _think- in’ I'could use one.” The three men grinned, and a grin in the place of retirement otfine Order of Penitents is a means of eloquent ex- pression of more potency than an un- abridged dictionary. “Seems rather light for this kind o’ work,” Timlin dropped. “Did the deputy see you before you were put The question would have made a- Mmuch less observing penitént. ‘than Mmy look the two “screws” to make inquiries in regard to how and why © a light man was assigned to the heav- icst work in-a prison. . He sized them up in the hope to read in their faces What their errand was. Timlin wink- ed at him; Culp also winked. “’Tain’t none o’ my business, but it it was me,” said Culpto Timlin. “I'd take the first chanct I got to have a word_ with Minick, an’ I'd talk busi- ness. with ’im.” s “I'd talk rocks,”™ sald Timlin. “Rocks is business,” said Culp. And both men passed on. The opportunity to have a word with Minick Milly “discovered in the prison garden one Sunday afternoon, when the penitents were free to re- ceive their friends, “Say, boss,” said Milly, abruptly, “I'm too thirsty for de foundry; I sweats more'n 1] kfn drink; I'd like a shift.” “You are gemn' pretty: “white an’ thin,” said Minick critically; “but the Stir ain’'t no thoroughfare. I can’t do nothin’ for you.” “You kin try, I guess.” Mipick did not admit explicitly that he could even ‘try;i.he stood mute. “‘Come,” urged Milly, “I ain’t in for no free show; L got the rocks.” “How'd you like. uxeme ward?” asked Minick. “Name de price,” said xmy. Minick was much too “slick” to name a price or to name anything, but any man may ask a question. “Could you ralse five hundred?” “Try me,” said Milly, “though five hundred’s stiff.” “Take it or leave it.” said Minick, PENITENT and there fell a silence for a while. Got to put up any looney spiel?” asked Milly. “Poesibly you had better,” said Mi- nick, and they discussed the looney splel. - ot e * That evening Milly betrayed oddities of an astonishing kind¢and variety. He Was laid off at the foundry, and with- in a. week it was noised abroad that Hell's Kitchen would know him no more. He was “crippled under de hat.” He was confined in the Insane ward, \\hloh is-a misnomer. _Thomas Burpee, too, was confined in the insane ward, and confidences in that wafd are as inevitable as in the “workshops and dining hall, ‘the only difference being a greater freedom of expression allowed the penitents who are “crippled under de hat.”” Garru- lousness is the inalienable right of the “bughouse”—if they have rocks. And the ease with which he had got out of the foundry set Milly a-thinking with almost as great lucidity as had the pain in his back. “That bloke Minick straight?” he asked one day after he and Burpee had discovered that they were both only technicglly of unsound mind. “How d'you mean straight?” “Can he keep his clapper. quiet?” “If it's made interestin’ for him, I guess., He's got his mitt out like the rest of 'em.” *‘Case o' dough, eh?” ““That's my experience with him. He an' the warden graft together.” . “Ever known him to ditch any o’ the guns in here?” “Not when there was dough to be made.” “I guess him an’ me'll chew the rug.” . A CRASH 9F SF\’blHTERED \x/00D S })JIFI/ mr B ey waTon MILLY MATCHES - MADE AN APPEAK— ANCE FROPM NO\/HERE The conference took place in Milly's cell, where Minick called on him ac- cording to instructions delivered by a “trusty.” There were very few prefa- tory remarks. “See here, boss, this is an A N shop an’ all that, but confinement’s bad for my health. What's the chance ©’ makin’ a spridg?” This was a bold question for a peni- tent to put, but innuendo is not one of the habits of the insane ward. “How much coin you got?” This counter question was not bold. . 1 «Minick was playing with loaded dice. No'penitent's word ever would be ac- cepted in preference to his. “Twenty-five thousand plunks. give you half. Take or leave it.” Six months after Milly Matches had demonstrated his sagacity by becom- ing an inmate of the insane ward, his mental condition was inquired into by the physician of the retreat, and it.was decided that he was fit once more to do his task in the workshop. It was the physician’s opinion that Milly’'s trouble had been merely an acute at- tack of melancholia, or hysterics, or an uncertain thing wmewhal comprehen- sively called “fits,” or aecombination of all three and he said that Milly would in all probability serve the rest of his sentence—nine years—without a recur- rence of the disorder. To the end that he might learn a trade which would re- lieve him of the chagrin of being a de- pendence on the public after his release, it was deemed advisable by the author- ities that he be put to work in the shoe shop, the cobbler’s trade being notably a sedative to perturbed minds. Milly had been in the shoe shop some three weeks, under the surveillance of the indulgent Timlin and. Culp when he ‘was reminded of a trade that he h‘d learned in another retreat of peniten in another State. He began to study the possibilities of a shoe box as a tempo- rary place of residence. Contemplation tempted him to put his ideas into prac- tice, and he persuaded the gracious m « Timlic a2d Culs io empioy him ia the . the nelghborhood, He was left pretty work, and was In about a boxing department. much to himself in thi able to make experiments. week he was convinced that with a little squeezing a shoe box carefully constructed might shield a man’'s body from rain and storm at least until he was outside of the prison walls. This conclusion was, in itself, of no seeming interest to any one, least of all to the {llustrious Minick, but Milly displayed a lively impatience to consult the illus- trious Minick in regard to these ideas. It was just possible that the physician had been wrong and that Milly was still crippled under the hat. A bit of the dialogue between Milly and Detect- fve Minick, when next they met, might have seemed to confirm the possibility. «“Can't nafl the top onm myseif; I #'pose Timlin can do it unless he's for- got how to wink,” said Milly. Why he was not as fit as Timlin to drive a nail, and wherein remembering to wink was essentlal to that operation, did not appear. “Timlin can wink,” said Minick. Pos- sibly Minick was “bughouse,” too. “An’ stripes aln't pretty in the open —have you thought of that?” asked Mlllv. i ve thought of 1t.” The two friends separated. The following morning Minick en- tered the retreat of the penitents look- ing somewhat bulky, but no one chal- lenged his right to enter. He was un- derstood to be getting “wise,” and the powers that rule are permitted eccen- tricities in dress as well as in manner when “wisdom” is the thing sought after. The season was not cold, but before leaving his lodgings to visit Milly it stands recorded that he dressed himdelf .in two complete suits of clothes. A half hour after his depart- ure from the prison there was conster- nation among the employes at the freight house of the — Railroad. Cer- tain shoe boxes from the penitentiary had' been delivered, the teams had driven away 2nd the workmen were about to load the boxes into the cars when a crash of splintered wood was heard and Milly hes ma pearance fror where. The were too dumfounded to do but stand with open mo and Milly wa unconcernedly the railway \a—d« and multitude of cars the freight hands realized that an escaped penitent had been among them. Had théy watched closely they might ha noticed the .illustrious Minick also keeping the ma from nowhere carefully in sight. What they could not have seen, unless th had given quick pursuit, was both m entering a cab together and rapidly away. utes the cabby know where he was going. Later received d ons from Milly drew rein at last at the edge of a wood, Wwhere both men alighted. When he had been dismis: Milly led the way to a bit of a lak which there stood and stands an abandoned icehouse. “Hustle now, Milly said Muinick. “I want the thing over before the Stir people are after you They broke one thing any aths and stare int was lost in the he the door. Milly was taking a rate chance. He was still pe ¥y in Minick’s power and the instant he led the way to the hiding-place of the treasure he had played his last card. But even in the under world the life of business is faith. Some one Milly was obliged to trust, and he preferred to trust Mi- nick, who was, after all, an accom- plice. The room was littl& and and full of the of the d dust and dec wood that lay deep and soft under foot.. Milly went straight to one corner, where he kneeled down and dug in the sawdust with his hands. At the end of a minute he lifted out a box. wrapped in oilcloth, ovened it and displayed it full of packages of bank notes. As he did so Minick steoped swiftly and snapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists and drew a revolver. “It's all off. Milly; you're the moke tifat pulled off that A. A. and B. touch. If you'd had that dough you'd never ‘a’ touched the theater, and between the time of'that get-away and the A. A. and get-away there wasn't anywhere else a gr: o’ this size. I'll be on the level with you. There's bills in "them packages that can be identi- ed. I've got you dead. But I'l] give you a chance. There's a lot bigger stake in this for me than your twelve thousand. I want the name of your pal, an’ you can lay to jt I'm going to havwe it Out with it. Who was he? It's your one chance; take it or leave it,- and be quick about jt.” Milly's face was not good to look upon, but neither was Minick’s. “You're puttin’ up a damm big blufr. You don't know what F'd toueh an’ what I wouldn't nor whére I got my pile.” “If the bills can’t be identified and the fellow you touched—Diprose—won’t swear t6 your mug I'm ditched. ¥ gam- ble I'm not. You can take or leave it.” “WIIl you let rie mooch if I tell you with my half of the stuff?” “Sure!” “Shorty Hoolan.”™ “Thanks,” said Minick, “you're easy. Now we’ll go back to the pen. there, you idiot.” Milly had given an imarticulate cry of rage and made a break for the door. Minick caught him and beat him into a sitting posture with the butt of his revolver—once—twice—about the head. PG e SN e The bills were identified and Harold Diprose did swear to Milly's mug. Shorty Hoolan was taken into custody some weeks later, and once more the public prints pronounced Detective Minick a second Old Sleuth and Sher- lock Holmes. What was of more con- sequence both to Detective Minick and really to the future execution of the law, there was a thrill of pride and pleasure in the bogom of Mistress Sadie, who, by the way, received in the public prints no credit whatever. “I told you what you could do if you'd only Lustle for the dust,” she said. “Please, Mr. Old Sleuth, hustla fume Morel” Steady