The Efficiency Expert | Page 9

asked the policeman.
"Of course not," replied Jimmy. "Why should he be pinched?"
The officer turned roughly upon the stranger, shook him viciously a few times, and then
gave him a mighty shove which all but sent him sprawling into the gutter.
"G'wan wid yez," he yelled after him, "and if I see ye on this beat again I'll run yez in.
An' you"--he turned upon Jimmy--"ye'd betther be on your way--and not be afther makin'
up with ivery dip ye meet."
"Thanks," said Jimmy. "Have a cigar."
After the officer had helped himself and condescended to relax his stern features into the
semblance of a smile the young man bid him good night and resumed his way toward the
hotel.
"Pretty early to go to bed," he thought as he reached for his watch to note the time,
running his fingers into an empty pocket. Gingerly he felt in another pocket, where he
knew his watch couldn't possibly be, nor was. Carefully Jimmy examined each pocket of
his coat and trousers, a slow and broad grin illumining his face.

"What do you know about that?" he mused. "And I thought I was a wise guy."
A few minutes after Jimmy reached his room the office called him on the telephone to tell
him that a man had called to see him.
"Send him up," said Jimmy, wondering who it might be, since he was sure that no one
knew of his presence in the city. He tried to connect the call in some way with his
advertisement, but inasmuch as that had been inserted blind he felt that there could be no
possible connection between that and his caller.
A few minutes later there was a knock on his door, and in response to his summons to
enter the door opened, and there stood before him the young man of his recent encounter
upon the street. The latter entered softly, closing the door behind him. His feet made no
sound upon the carpet, and no sound came from the door as he closed it, nor any slightest
click from the latch. His utter silence and the stealth of his movements were so
pronounced as to attract immediate attention. He did not speak until he had reached the
center of the room and halted on the opposite side of the table at which Jimmy was
standing; and then a very slow smile moved his lips, though the expression of his eyes
remained unchanged.
"Miss anything?" he asked.
"Yes," said Jimmy.
"Here it is," said the visitor, laying the other's watch upon the table.
"Why this spasm of virtue?" asked Jimmy.
"Oh, I don't know," replied the other. "I guess it's because you're a white guy. O'Donnell
has been trying to get something on me for the last year. He's got it in for me--I wouldn't
cough every time the big stiff seen me."
"Sit down," said Jimmy.
"Naw," said the other; "I gotta be goin'."
"Come," insisted the host; "sit down for a few minutes at least. I was just wishing that I
had someone to talk to."
The other sank noiselessly into a chair. "All right, bo," he said.
Jimmy proffered him his cigar-case.
"No, thanks," declined the visitor. "I'd rather have a coffin-nail," which Jimmy forthwith
furnished.
"I should think," said Jimmy, "that your particular line of endeavor would prove rather
hazardous in a place where you are known by the police."

The other smiled and, as before, with his lips alone.
"Naw," he said; "this is the safest place to work. If ten per cent of the bulls know me I got
that much on them, and then some, because any boob can spot any one o' de harness
bunch, and I know nearly every fly on the department. They're the guys yuh gotta know,
and usually I know something besides their names, too," and again his lips smiled.
"How much of your time do you have to put in at your occupation to make a living?"
asked Jimmy.
"Sometimes I put in six or eight hours a day," replied the visitor. "De rush hours on de
surface line are usually good for two or t'ree hours a day, but I been layin' off dat stuff
lately and goin' in fer de t'ater crowd. Dere's more money and shorter hours."
"You confine yourself," asked Jimmy, "to--er--ah--pocket-picking solely?"
Again the lip smile. "I'll tell youse sumpin', bo, dat dey don't none o' dem big stiffs on de
department know. De dip game is a stall. I learned it when I was a kid, an' dese yaps t'ink
dat's all I know, and I keep dem t'inkin' it by pullin' stuff under der noses often enough to
give 'em de hunch dat I'm still at de same ol' business." He leaned