Lewis Alfred Henry - The Apaches of New York стр 7.

How about it? hed say. Cast your regal peepers toward Palestine. Dyou make them Paynims? Aint they th tough lot? They wont eat pork; they toe in when they walk; they dont drink nothin worsen coffee; theyve got brown skins. Also, says he, we can lick em for money, marbles or chalk. Wat dyouse say, me royal brothers? Lets get our gangs, an hand them Paynims a swift soak in behalf of the troo faith.

Philip an the other crowned lads at this would agree wit Richard. Them Paynims is certainly th worst ever! theyd say; an one woidd borry another, until the crusade is on. Some afternoon youd hear the newsies in th streets yellin, Wux-try! an there itd be in big black type, Richard, Philip an their gallant bands of Strong-Arms have landed in Palestine.

An then wat, Slimmy? cooed Alma, who hung on every word.

As far as I can see, th Christians always had it on th Paynims, always had em shaded, when it comes to a scrap. Th Christian lads had th punch; an th Paynims must have been wise to it; for no sooner would Richard, Philip an their roly-boly boys hit th dock, than th Paynims would take it on th run for th hills. Their mullahs would try to rally em, be tellin em that whoever got downed fightin Christians, the prophet would punch his ticket through for paradise direct, an no stop-overs.

Thats all right about the prophet! theyd say, givin th mullahs th laugh. An then theyd beat it for th next ridge.

Them Paynims must have been a bunch of dead ones, commented the Dropper.

Not bein able to get on a match, continued Slimmy, without heeding the Dropper, th Paynims declinin their game, th Christian hosts would rough house th country generally, an in a way of speakin stand th Holy Land on its head. Do what they would, however, they couldnt coax th Paynims into th ring wit em; an so after a while they decides that Palestines th bummest place theyd ever struck. Mebby, too, theyd begin havin woid from home that their wives was gettin a little gay, or their kids was goin round marryin th kids of their enemies, an that one way an another their domestic affairs was on th fritz. At this, Richardd go loafin over to Philips tent, an say:

Philly, me boy, I dont know how this crusade strikes youse, but if Im any judge of these great moral movements, its on th blink. An so, hed go on, Philly, its me for Merrie England be th night boat.

Wit that, theyd break for home; an, when they got there, theyd mebby hand out a taste of th strap to mamma an th babies, just to teach em not to go runnin out of form th next time fathers far away.

Youse dont bank much on crusades, Slimmy? Ike the Blood said.

The Blood had more than a passing interest in the movement, mention of which had started the discussion, being himself a part proprietor in one of those threatened Raines Law Hotels.

Blood, observed Slimmy, oracularly, them moral movements is like a hornet; they stings onct an then they dies.

Almas attention was drawn to Mollie Squint so called because of an optical slant which gave her a vague though piquant look. Mollie Squint was motioning from the outskirts of the little group. Alma pointed to the Dropper. Should she bring him? Mollie Squint shook her head.

Leaving the Dropper, Alma joined Mollie Squint.

Its Johnny, gasped Mollie Squint. He wants you; hes over be that bunch of trees.

Alma hung back; some impression of peril seized her.

Better go, whispered Mollie Squint. Hes onto you an the Dropper, an if you dont go hell come lookin for you. Then him an the Dropperll go to th mat wit each other, an have it awful. Give Johnny one of your soft talks, an mebby youse can smooth him down. Stall him off be tellin him youll see him to-night at Ding Dongs.

Mollie Squints advice seemed good, and as the lesser of two evils Alma decided to go. Mollie Squint did not accompany her.

Tell th Dropper Ill be back in a moment, said Alma to Mollie Squint, an dont wise him up about Johnny.

Alma met Spanish at the far corner of the clump of trees. There was no talk, no time for talk. They were all alone. As she drew near, he pulled a pistol and shot her through and through the body.

Almas moaning cry was heard by the Dropper that, and the sound of the shot. When the Dropper reached her, she was lying senseless in the shadow of the trees a patch of white and red against the green of the grass. Spanish was nowhere in sight..

Alma was carried to the hospital, and revived. But she would say nothing, give no names staunch to the spirit of the Gangs. Only she whispered feebly to Mollie Squint, when the Dropper had been sent away by the doctors:

Johnny must have loved me a lot to shoot me up like he did. A guy has got to love a goil good and plenty before hell try to cook her.

Did youse tell th hospital croakers his name? asked Mollie Squint.

Of course not! I never squealed to nobody. Do youse think Id put poor Johnny in wrong?

Then I wont, said Mollie Squint.

An attendant told Mollie Squint that she must go; certain surgeons had begun to assemble. Mollie Squint, tears falling, kissed Alma good-by.

Give Johnny all me love, whispered Alma. Tell him Im no snitch; Ill stick.

The Dropper did not have to be told whose bullet had struck down his star, his Alma. That night, Kid Kleiney with him, he went looking for Spanish. The latter, as jealous as Satan, was looking for the Dropper. Of the two, Spanish must have conducted his hunting with the greater circumspection or the greater luck; for about eleven of the clock he crept up behind the Dropper, as the latter and Kid Kleiney were walking in East Broadway, and planted a bullet in his neck. Kid Kleiney bout faced at the crack of the pistol, and was in fortunate time to stop Spanishs second bullet with one of the big buttons on his coat. Kid Kleiney fell by the side of the wounded Dropper, jarred off his feet by the shock. He was able, however, when the police came up, to help place the Dropper in an ambulance.

Spanish?

Vanished as usual.

The police could get no line on him, did get no line on him, until months later, when, as related the Dropper having been lagged for robbery, and safely caged he came back to stick up the joint of Mersher the Strong-Arm, and be arrested by Dribben and Blum.

The baby and I met casually in a Williamsburg street, where Alma had brought it to take the air, which was bad. Alma was thin-faced, hollow-eyed, but I could see that she had been pretty. She said she was twenty and the baby less than a year, and I think she told the truth.

No one among Almas friends finds fault with either the baby or herself, although both are without defence by the canons of high morality. There is warmth in the world; and, after all, the case of Alma and the baby is not so much beyond the common, except as to the babys advent, which was dramatic and after the manner of Cæsar.

Folk say the affair reflects illustriously upon the hospital. Also, what surgeons officiated are inclined to plume themselves; for have not Alma and the baby lived? I confess that those boastful scientists are not wanting in excuse for strutting, although they ought, perhaps, in honor, to divide credit with Alma and the baby as being hard to kill.