Yollop | Page 4

telephone to the police to come and arrest him."
"I wish I had thought to close that window while you were hors de combat," complained Mr. Yollop shivering. "I'll probably catch my death of cold standing around here with almost nothing on. That wind comes straight from the North Pole. Doesn't she answer?"
"No."
"Jiggle it."
"I did jiggle it."
"What?"
"I said I jiggled it."
"Well, jiggle it again."
"Rottenest telephone service in the world," growled Mr. Smilk. "When you think what we have to pay for telephones these days, you'd think--hello! Hell--lo!"
"Got her?"
"I thought I had for a second, but I guess it was somebody yawning."
"Awning?"
"Say, if you'll hold that thing around so's I can talk at it, you'll hear what I'm saying. How do you expect me to--hello! Central? Central! Hello! Where the hell have you been all--hello! Well, can you beat it? I had her and she got away."
"No use trying to get her now," said Mr. Yollop, resignedly. "Hang up for a few minutes. It makes 'em stubborn when you swear at 'em. Like mules. I've just thought of something else you can do for me while we're waiting for her to make up her mind to forgive you. Come along over here and close this window you left open."
Mr. Smilk in closing the window, looked searchingly up and down the fire escape, peered intently into the street below, sighed profoundly and muttered something that Mr. Yollop did not hear.
"I've got a fur coat hanging in that closet over there, Cassius. We will get it out."
Carefully following Mr. Yollop's directions, the obliging rascal produced the coat and laid it upon the table in the center of the room.
"Turn your back," commanded the owner of the coat, "and hold up your hands." Then, after he had slipped into the coat: "Now if I only had my slippers--but never mind. We won't bother about 'em. They're in my bed room, and probably lost under the bed. They always are, even when I take 'em off out in the middle of the room. Ah! Nothing like a fur coat, Cassius. Do you know what cockles are?"
"No, I don't."
"Well, never mind. Now, let's try Central again. Please remember that no matter how distant she is, she still expects you to look upon her as a lady. No lady likes to be sworn at at two o'clock in the morning. Speak gently to her. Call her Madamoiselle. That always gets them. Makes 'em think if they keep their ears open they'll hear something spicy."
"They general fall for dearie," said Mr. Smilk, taking down the receiver.
"Be good enough to remember that you are calling from my apartment," said Mr. Yollop severely. "Jiggle it."
Mr. Smilk jiggled it. "I guess she's still mad."
"Jiggle it slowly, tenderly, caressingly. Sort of seductively. Don't be so savage about it."
"Hello! Central? What number do I have to call to get Spring 3100? ... I'm not trying to be fresh: ... Yes, that's what I want ... I know the book says to tell you 'I want to call a policeman' but-- ... Yes, there's a burglar in my apartment and I want you to--What's that? ... I don't want to go to bed. ... Say, now YOU'RE gettin' fresh. You give me police--"
"Tell her I've got you surrounded," whispered Mr. Yollop.
"Hello! Hell--lo! Central!"
"Jiggle it."
"Ah, Mademoiselle! Pardon my--"
Voice at the other end of the wire: "Ring off! You've got wrong number. This is police headquarters." Audible sound of distant receiver being slapped upon its hook.
"Gee whiz! Now, we're up against it, Mister. We'll be all night gettin' Central again."
"Be patient, Cassius. Start all over again. Ask for the morgue this time. That will make her realize the grave danger you are in."
"Say, I wish you'd put that gun in your pocket. It makes the goose flesh creep out all over me. I'm not going to try to get away. Give you my word of honor I ain't. You seem to have some sort of idea that I don't want to be arrested."
"I confess I had some such idea, Cassius."
"Well, I don't mind it a bit. Fact is, I've been doin' my best to get nabbed for the last three months."
"You have?"
"Sure. The trouble is with the police. They somehow seem to overlook me, no matter how open I am about it. I suppose I've committed twenty burglaries in the past three months and I'll be cussed if I can make 'em understand. Take to-night, for instance. I clumb up that fire escape,--this is the third floor, ain't it?--I clumb up here with a big electric street light shinin' square on my back, --why, darn the luck, I had to turn my back on it 'cause the light hurt my eyes,--and there were two cops standin' right down below here talkin' about the crime wave bein' all