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BIG KENNEDYS suggestion of Sing Sing for Sheeny Joe did not fit with my fancy. Not that a cropped head and a suit of stripes would have been misplaced in the instance of Sheeny Joe, but I had my reputation to consider. It would never do for a first bruiser of his day to fall back on the law for protection. Such coward courses would shake my standing beyond recovery. It would have disgraced the Tin Whistles; thereafter, in that vigorous brotherhood, my commands would have earned naught save laughter. To arrest Sheeny Joe would be to fly in the face of the Tin Whistles and their dearest ethics. When to this I called Big Kennedys attention, he laughed as one amused.
You dont twig! said he, recovering a partial gravity. Im goin to send him over th road for robbery.
But he hasnt robbed anybody!
Big Kennedy made a gesture of impatience, mixed with despair.
Here! said he at last, Ill give you a flash of what Im out to do an why Im out to do it. Im goin to put Sheeny Joe away to stiffen discipline. Hes sold himself, an th whole ward knows it. Now Im goin to showem what happens to a turncoat, as a hunch to keep their coats on right side out, dye see.
But you spoke of a robbery! I interjected; Sheeny Joe has robbed no one.
Im gettin to that, returned Big Kennedy, with a repressive wave of his broad palm, an I can see that you yourself have a lot to learn. Listen: If I knew of any robbery Sheeny Joe had pulled off, I wouldnt have him lagged for that; no, not if hed taken a jimmy an cracked a dozen bins. Thered be no lesson in sendin a duck over th road in that. Any old woman could have him pinched for a crime hes really pulled off. To leave an impression on these people, you must send a party up for what he hasnt done. Then they understand.
For all Big Kennedys explanation, I still lived in the dark. I made no return, however, either of comment or question; I considered that I had only to look on, and Big Kennedys purpose would elucidate itself. Big Kennedy and I were in the sanctum that opened off his barroom. He called one of his barmen.
Billy, you know where to find the Rat? Then, when the other nodded: Go an tell the Rat I want him.
Who is the Rat? I queried. I had never heard of the Rat.
Hes a pickpocket, responded Big Kennedy, an as fly a dip as ever nipped a watch or copped a leather.
The Rat belonged on the west side of the town, which accounted for my having failed of his acquaintance. Big Kennedy was sure his man would find him.
For he grafts nights, said Big Kennedy, an at this time of day its a cinch hes takin a snooze. A pickpocket has to have plenty of sleep to keep his hooks from shakin.
While we were waiting the coming of the Rat, one of the barmen entered to announce a caller. He whispered a word in Big Kennedys ear.
Sure! said he. Tell him to come along.
The gentleman whom the barman had announced, and who was a young clergyman, came into the room. Big Kennedy gave him a hearty handshake, while his red face radiated a welcome.
What is it, Mr. Bronson? asked Big Kennedy pleasantly; what can I do for you?
The young clergymans purpose was to ask assistance for a mission which he proposed to start near the Five Points.
Certainly, said Big Kennedy, an not a moment to wait! With that he gave the young clergyman one hundred dollars.
When that gentleman, after expressing his thanks, had departed, Big Kennedy sighed.
Ive got no great use for a church, he said. I never bought a gold brick yet that wasnt wrapped in a tract. But its no fun to get a preacher down on you. One ofem can throw stones enough to smash every window in Tammany Hall. Your only show with the preachers is to flatter em; passem out the flowers. Most of ems as pleased with flattery as a girl. Yes indeed, he concluded, I can paste bills on em so long as I do it with soft soap.
The Rat was a slight, quiet individual and looked the young physician rather than the pickpocket. His hands were delicate, and he wore gloves the better to keep them in condition. His step and air were as quiet as those of a cat.
I want a favor, said Big Kennedy, addressing the Rat, an Ive got to go to one of the swell mob to get it. Thats why I sent for you, dye see! It takes someone finer than a bricklayer to do th work.
The Rat was uneasily questioning my presence with his eye. Big Kennedy paused to reassure him.
Hes th straight goods, said Big Kennedy, speaking in a tone wherein were mingled resentment and reproach. You dont sppose Id steer you aginst a brace?
The Rat said never a word, but his glance left me and he gave entire heed to Big Kennedy.
This is the proposition, resumed Big Kennedy. You know Sheeny Joe. Shadow him; swing and rattle with him no matter where he goes. The moment you see a chance, get a pocketbook an put it away in his clothes. When th roar goes up, tell th loser where to look. Are you on? Sheeny Joe must get th collar, an I want him caught with th goods, dye see.
I dont have to go to court aginst him? said the Rat interrogatively.
No, retorted Big Kennedy, a bit explosively. Youd look about as well in th witness box as I would in a pulpit. No, you shift th leather. Then give th party whos been touched th office to go after Sheeny Joe. After that you can screw out; thats as far as you go.
It was the next evening at the ferry. Suddenly a cry went up.
Thief! Thief! My pocketbook is gone!
The shouts found source in a broad man. He was top-heavy with too much beer, but clear enough to realize that his money had disappeared. The Rat, sly, small, clean, inconspicuous, was at his shoulder.