Tin-Types Taken in the Streets of New York - BestLightNovel.com
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"I see," said Mr. Jayres, "I see. And you want me to take the matter in hand, I suppose, and see if I can recover the money, eh?"
"Oh, dear!" said Mrs. Tobey, in a disappointed tone, "I thought from the piece in the paper that the money was all ready for us."
"You mustn't be so impatient," soothingly responded Mr. Jayres, laying his fat finger on his fat cheek and smiling softly. "All in good time.
All in good time. The money's where it's safe. You only need to establish your right to it. We must fetch a suit in the Court of Chancery, and that I'll do at once upon looking up the facts. Of course--er--there'll be a little fee."
"A little what?" said Mr. Tobey.
"A little which?" said Mrs. Tobey.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "A LITTLE FEE," SAID MR. JAYRES, SMILING SWEETLY.]
"A little fee," said Mr. Jayres, smiling sweetly. "A mere trifle, I a.s.sure you; just enough to defray expenses--say--er--a hundred dollars."
"Oh, dear me!" cried Mrs. Tobey. "This is vexing. To think of coming down town, Tobey, dear, with the expectations of going back rich, and then going back a hundred dollars poorer than we were. I really don't think we'd better do it, Tobey?"
"Ah," said Mr. Jayres, "but think also of the fortune. Two millions and a half! Isn't that worth spending a few hundred dollars for? Just put your mind on it, ma'am."
"I've had my mind on it ever since I seen your piece in the paper,"
replied Mrs. Tobey, "and a hundred dollars does seem, as you say, little enough to pay for two millions and a half, which would be all I'd ask or wish for, and would put us where we belong, Tobey, which is not in the laundry line competing with an unscrupulous party across the street, though I don't mention names, which perhaps I ought, for the public ought to be warned. It's a party that hasn't any honor at all--"
"I'm sure not," said Mr. Jayres sympathetically. "He is, without doubt, a dirty dog."
"Oh, it isn't a he," Mrs. Tobey replied, "the party is a her."
[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE PARTY IS A HER," SAID MRS. TOBEY.]
"Of course, of course," said Mr. Jayres. "And to think that you have to put up with the tricks of a female party directly across the street.
Why, it's shameful, ma'am! But if you had that two millions, as you just observed, all that would be over."
"Two million and a half I thought you said it was," said Mrs. Tobey rather sharply.
"Oh, yes, and a half--and a half," the lawyer admitted in a tone of indifference, as much as to say that there should be no haggling about the odd $500,000. "What a pretty pile it is, Mrs. Tobey?"
"I don't know, Tobey, but what we'd better do it," Mrs. Tobey said after a pause. "It aint so very much when you think of what we're to get for it."
"That's the right way to look at it, ma'am. I'll just draw up the receipt, and to-morrow I'll call at the Gallinipper Laundry to get some further particulars necessary to help me make out the papers."
Mr. Tobey seemed to be somewhat at a loss to know precisely what was the net result of the proceedings in which he had thus far taken so small a part, but upon being directed by Mrs. Tobey to produce the hundred dollars, he ventured a feeble remonstrance. This was immediately checked by Mrs. Tobey, who a.s.sured him that he knew nothing whatever about such matters and never could come to the point, which he ought to be able to do by this time, for n.o.body could say but that she had done her part. At last two fifty-dollar bills were deposited in Mr. Jayres's soft palm and a bit of writing was handed over to Mrs. Tobey in exchange for them; and followed by Mr. Jayres's warm insistence that they had never done a better thing in their lives, the Tobeys withdrew.
It was nearly six o'clock when the door of Mr. Jayres's office opened again and the shocky head of Bootsey appeared. Mr. Jayres was waiting for him.
"Here you are at last, you wretched little scamp!" he cried. "Didn't I tell you I'd whale you if you weren't back by five o'clock?"
"I come jest as soon 's I could," said Bootsey. "He was a werry fly ole gen'l'man."
"What did he say?"
"He said he didn't hev no doubts but wot you was a reg'lar villyum an'
swin'ler, an' cheat an' blackmailer, an' ef he had de user his eyes an'
legs he'd come down yere an' han' you over ter de coppers; dat you aint smart enuff ter get no money outer him, fer he's bin bled by sich coveys like you all he's a-going ter bleed, an' dat he don't b'lieve dere is any sech ting as de Bugwug estate nohow, an' ef yer wants ter keep outen jail yer'd better let him an' his folks alone."
Mr. Jayres scowled until it seemed as if his black eyebrows would meet his bristly upper lip, and then he said: "Bootsey, before you come to the office to-morrow morning you'd better go to the Gallinipper Laundry in Was.h.i.+ngton Place, and tell a man named Tobey who keeps it, that--er--that I've gone out of town for a few days, Bootsey, on a pressing matter of business."
III.
BLUDOFFSKI.
The friends of Mr. Richard O'Royster always maintained that he was the best of good fellows. Many, indeed, went so far as to say he had no faults whatever; and while such an encomium seems, on the face of it, to be extravagant, its probability is much strengthened by the fact that whatever he had they always came into the possession of sooner or later.
If he had any faults, therefore, they must have known it. They would never have allowed anything so valuable as a fault to escape them.
Mr. O'Royster was sitting, one afternoon, in the private office of his bankers, Coldpin & Breaker. Mr. Coldpin sat with him, discussing the advisability of his investing $250,000 in the bonds of the East and West Telegraph Company. It was a safe investment, in Mr. Coldpin's judgment, and Mr. O'Royster was about to order the transaction carried out, when the office door was thrust open and a long, black-bearded, wiry-haired, savage-looking man walked in.
[Ill.u.s.tration: BLUDOFFSKI.]
His head was an irregular hump set fixedly on his shoulders so that one almost expected to hear it creak when he moved it. His eyes were little, and curiously stuck on either side of his thick, stumpy nose, as if it were only by the merest accident that they hadn't taken a position back of his ears or up in his forehead or down in his hollow cheeks. His entrance put a sudden and disagreeable stop to the conversation. Mr.
O'Royster adjusted his eyegla.s.s and looked with a sort of serene curiosity at the man. Mr. Coldpin moved nervously in his chair.
"Vell," the fellow said, after a pause, "I haf come to sbeak mit you."
"You come very often," replied Mr. Coldpin in a mildly remonstrative tone.
No answer was returned to this suggestion. The intruder simply settled himself on his feet in an obstinate sort of way.
Mr. Coldpin produced a dollar-bill and handed it over, remarking testily, "There, now, I'm very busy!"
"Nein, nein!" said the man. "It vas not enough!"
"Not enough?"
"I vants dwenty tollar."
"Oh, come now; this wont do at all. You mustn't bother me so. I can't be--"
The man did something with his mouth. Possibly he smiled. Possibly he was malevolently disposed. At all events, whatever his motive or his humor, he did something with his mouth, and straightway his two rows of teeth gleamed forth, his eyes changed their position and also their hue, and the hollows in his cheeks became caverns.
"Great Caesar!" cried Mr. O'Royster. "Look here, my good fellow, now don't! If you must have the money, we'll try to raise it. Don't do that.
Take in your teeth, my man, take 'em in right away, and we'll see what we can do about the twenty."
He composed his mouth, reducing it to its normal dimensions and arranging it in its normal shape, whereupon Mr. O'Royster, drawing a roll of bills from his pocket, counted out twenty dollars.
Mr. Coldpin interposed. "You may naturally think, O'Royster," he observed quietly, "that this man has some hold upon me by which he is in a position to extort money. There is no such phase to this remarkable case. I owe him nothing. He is simply in the habit of coming here and demanding money, which I have let him have from time to time in small sums to--well, get rid of him. I think, though, that it's time to stop.
You must not give him that $20. I won't permit it. Put it back in--"
[Ill.u.s.tration: "IT WOULDN'T HURT HIM TO SHOOT HIM."]