The Mystery Megapack

whispered to the countryman about the joke, and they had more drinks and laughed aloud at Detective Craddock.
    “I know a better place than this,” Tham said and led the way.
    But it seemed impossible to get a finger into that vest pocket where the countryman kept the currency. It was not that the visitor to the city was on guard, particularly, but luck was against Tham.
    They went along a dark side street, but Tham had no chance to get the money. He tried to get his man intoxicated in another resort, but found that he could not.
    So they drifted about the city for two hours, and finally Thubway Tham began to have hopes.
    The countryman began exhibiting the first signs of intoxication. Tham decided that he’d make the attempt soon now. And then the visitor to the city took the wind out of his sails.
    “You look like an honest young feller,” he said. “And you know all about this town. I can’t enjoy myself while I’m worryin’ about my money. You take it—here—and keep it for me. Give me a bill whenever I ask for it.”
    “Nothin’ doin’,” said Thubway Tham.
    “You take it!” the other commanded, pressing it upon him.
    “All right,” Tham said, in a voice of resignation.
    “You see, I ain’t afraid of you, young feller. I know where you work. If you run off with that money, I’d just go to that cigar store tomorrow and get it, you betcha!”
    “Yeth?” Tham risked.
    Thubway Tham was astounded. Here was a man trusting him with money—the man he had hoped to rob. He glanced at the bills and saw that they totaled more than a hundred dollars, and fifty dollars of it, he supposed, was Craddock’s.
    The situation appealed to Thubway Tham. He knew that he could evade the countryman in some resort that had doors opening onto two streets, but he decided to be honest for the time being.
    “Thith ith thertainly my inthane moment,” he told himself. “I mutht be gettin’ old or thomethin’ like that!”
    He followed the countryman for two hours more. They changed some of the bills, but when midnight came, and the visitor decided that he would return to his hotel and go to bed, there remained something like seventy-five dollars. Thubway Tham handed it back, made the other count it and acknowledge the amount correct, and then parted from his man with a feeling that he had done a worthy action.
    He drifted into one of the saloons they had patronized earlier in the evening, and the proprietor hailed him.
    “You can’t play any game like this on me, Tham,” he said.
    “What ith the matter with you?”
    “You were in here with a friend—fellow who looked like a hick. You bought the drinks and changed a ten. And the ten is a bad one—that’s what’s the matter with me.”
    Tham glanced into the man’s face and knew that he spoke the truth.
    “That wath not my money,” he said. “I’ve been thtung again! And by a hick! Here’s a good ten for it. Great Thcott!”
    Tham had a horrible idea. Were all the bills he had passed counterfeit? Had the visitor to the city played him for an easy mark, got him to pass the money so that, if an arrest came, Tham would be the one arrested?
    And Thubway Tham was known well in all the places where he had changed bills. The proprietors would be quick to complain about it. Crooks themselves, for the most part, they would not have another crook play them.
    With a heavy heart Thubway Tham began making the rounds. It was as he had expected—several men called him to account. Thubway Tham gave good bills and collected the bad ones, and explained how he had been worked. That was the worst of it—he had to explain to square himself; he had to admit that he had been played for an easy mark!
    He handed over all the good money he possessed. In the last place, he could not replace a bad five, but he explained and promised to do so the following day. And then, with rage in his heart, he walked toward Union Square.
    Thubway Tham was deadly angry now. He plunged into the subway, got into a crowded car, “lifted a leather,” and got out at Twenty-eighth street. He walked up to the next station, entered the subway again, lifted another leather, and got out at Times Square. He took out bills and dropped the wallets. Thubway Tham was collecting for the misfortunes of the day.
    It was two o’clock in the morning when he entered the dingy room far downtown, the room that was his home. He investigated and found that the proceeds of the night’s work amounted to more than