paintings in oil, and a few good rugs.
alone, she was temporarily obliged to be
Madame Washburn came in. She was
“respectable.” The Mann Act had something
not bad-looking for a woman well along in
to do with it, but details were lacking.
middle-age—if one cared for only external
Anyway, while being respectable, Mrs.
effects. Her face was hard, and her thin lips Washburn had been compelled to resort to
and narrow, calculating eyes let Whitey know those little grafts that were tolerated by the that he was up against a cold, hard dame.
police and outside the jurisdiction of the
In a businesslike though slightly
Department of Justice.
suspicious manner she tapped the card and
“Wahtchu goin’ ’o pull, Whitey?” asked Whitey what he wanted. He went Squint-Eye asked.
straight to the point. “Dig down, old goil, an’
“Depends,” said Whitey enigmatically.
shell out de coin dat b’longs to Miss Blair.”
Her eyes narrowed—she almost closed
IT WAS in the early forenoon that Whitey
them. She stiffened her shoulders perceptibly, called at Mrs. Washburn’s.
and she cut loose on Whitey: told him that his A young negress in white cap and dirty little graft would not go with her, that the apron opened the door cautiously. She girl was a thief, and that if he did not get out scrutinized him and asked what he wanted.
of her house at once she would call the police.
“I comes ter explain that ter de loidy
The last was highly probable. She seemed to
herself,” Whitey replied pugnaciously, as have a rather valuable friendship with the though he and the “loidy” had some affairs in police.
common and it was not necessary to confide
Whitey pulled a revolver: thrust it up
Adventure
6
under her nose.
danger of being bitten on the hand unless the He had no way of knowing that she
forearm about her throat was tightened, and he was merely the one woman in ten thousand
tightened it. She too was gagged and tied.
that would not gasp in fright and hurriedly dig Whitey went through the house and
down into her stocking and advance the found no signs of any one else—or of cash.
money for fear that if she hesitated the coroner There were eight or ten rooms and a
would be knocking at the door to find the
second story, but most of the trappings were caliber of the bullet that hit her.
down-stairs where they would make an
“A little melodrama, eh?” she said impression.
sneeringly, then laughed.
He found the madame’s jewels—paste.
The laugh was rather forced, but it was
Perhaps her real ones were in a safety-deposit a contemptuous, scornful laugh. She seemed
box. Her bank-account showed three hundred
to know that a man, even of Whitey’s type,
and forty-seven listed as one deposit of recent would hesitate to shoot.
date. It was not a fat account, but something But she added quickly, and over two thousand. But he had no intention of convincingly, that she did not have any money taking chances with a check.
in the house; and that if he did shoot he would Whitey got the women up-stairs by
have nothing for his pains but the cops at his untying their legs and making them walk.
heels.
Madame had decided that after all it was no
Whitey swore and flushed. It was laughing matter. He put them into separate humiliating to be beaten by a woman. And she rooms, and again made sure that they were
knew it. She rubbed salt into his sores. She did fastened securely.
not for a minute deny that she knew a Miss
Then he went down-stairs and put in
Blair, and said that Whitey was only peeved
some time apparently wrecking the first
because he had not got the money off the girl floor—not wrecking it exactly, but making it in the first place, intimating that she could look as if a cyclone had struck it, or that
earn plenty more for him.
somebody was just moving in or out. But
Whitey was getting hotter and hotter
nothing was damaged. It was merely put into
inside. He furtively glanced about to see that disorder.
the negro maid was not in sight—then Mrs.
Whitey consulted a telephone book
and found a man who promised to come over
an arm went around her throat, bearing her
right away and take a look around. Whitey,
backward across Whitey’s knee until her head with his coat and collar off and his sleeves was against his chest, and she couldn’t have rolled up, and appearing very much at home,
made a squeak loud enough to have been
met him at the door. The man looked around,
heard across the room if her life had depended dickered a while, and sent for a van.
on it. He was not gentle, but perhaps she was
“Ever’t’ing on dis floor goes. See?” Piano,
not unconscious more than a minute or two;
Victrola, desk, divan, rugs, curtains,
but when she came back to life, she was
pictures—all went into a capacious van. It was gagged and trussed.
what is sometimes called wholesale robbery.
Then Whitey went after the maid. She
Whitey, wise in the disposal of
put up a harder fight than the madame. Her
furniture, had got an innocent dealer who
legs weren’t swathed in as much drapery, and specialized in auctions. He bought furniture on she used them vigorously. But she might as
speculation and carried it to an auction room.
well have taken it quietly. Whitey saw the
Whitey knew that in this way the
Chivalry
7
furniture would be scattered all over the city, mentioned; and in that way he secured the
and that the police friends of Mrs. Washburn release of his prisoners.
would have some difficulty in locating it. The Mrs. Washburn made a big fuss, and
man who bought the furniture had often done
gave a very good description of Whitey. But it business with houses—forced to close—such
was a description that would have fitted, a
as Mrs. Washburn had kept, and was thousand that slipped along the streets of the accustomed to seeing such men as Whitey
underworld. No trace of the furniture was
about.
found; and Whitey did not even take the
Whitey counted the money: three trouble to go into hiding.
hundred and fifty dollars. The man had
A few days later a letter arrived for
offered two hundred dollars and Whitey had
Whitey Dick, sent in the care of Mrs. Lewis, asked for five hundred dollars. The usual from one John Burleton, Flemings, Kentucky, compromise followed in due time. Then the
thanking his very much for the service that he van departed; and Whitey, also, carrying with had been to his wife. He wrote in high, stilted him a suitcase marked with the initials “R. B.”
phrases to express deep and eternal gratitude, That afternoon Roxanna left for and the wish that he might some day return the Flemings, Kentucky; and Whitey and Mrs.
favor.
Squint-Eye Lewis went to the train with her.
She and Mrs. Lewis had had a long woman-to-
IT WAS about a year later when another letter woman, and heart-to-heart talk, and Roxanna
came. In the stress of more recent excitement had decided that she did not want a career on and certain disturbing relations with the
the operatic stage, and that the choir-leader police, Whitey had forgotten all about
wasn’t so very much older than she after all.
Roxanna; so for some seconds he was rather
Whitey told Roxanna that Mrs. perplexed to read that a son, who had just Washburn was awfully sorry for the mistake
arrived, at Flemings, Kentucky, had been
she had made, and that the “priceless” ring
named Whitey Dick Burleton in grateful
hadn’t been stolen at all; but Mrs. Lewis was remembrance of timely assistance and good
frankly incredulous. But she had to wait for offices.
her husband to tell her the story: Whitey Dick
“Say, Squint-Eye,” Whitey asked, after
would never confide in a woman.
a laborious but proud rereading of the letter, After the train had gone, Whitey “where’s Kintucky? T’ink maybe I’ll be telephoned from a public booth to tell the
taking a trip down dere sometime an’ pipe me police that they might find something to namesake. Some kid, I bet!”
interest them at a certain address which he