The Mystery Megapack

Fourteenth Thtreet and I thee him, he wanth to look out. I’ll thow him thome cleverneth and thkill, all right!”
    Tham left the theater after the performance with the conviction that the ticket agent had robbed him by forcing him to pay good money to be insulted. He rode downtown in the subway, and though there was many a good chance to “lift a leather,” Tham did not make an attempt to work. His mind was full of the false philosophy that had come from the lips of Merton.
    “Tho a pickpocket ith not clever, hey?” Tham mused. “And thith Booth Manthfield Merton ith a thuperior man who could make the betht dip in the thity look like a deuthe card, ith he? He maketh me thick. I’ll teach him to inthult people.”
    * * * *
    The following day being Sunday, Thubway Tham arose a little late, spent plenty of time dressing, and walked briskly down the street to the restaurant he always favored for breakfast. It appeared that all the other customers were late for breakfast also. Tham managed to get his usual place at his usual table, but was forced to wait for some time until his order was filled. While waiting he picked up the dramatic section of one of the Sunday morning newspapers, and the first thing he saw was an interview with Booth Mansfield Merton.
    The interview was the work of an enterprising press agent, of course, but Thubway Tham knew little concerning the workings of a press agent’s mind. Tham did not know that Booth Mansfield Merton never had seen that interview and would be greatly surprised when he read it to find that he had expressed himself so on certain subjects. Tham curled his lips in scorn and read the interview.
    It said that Mr. Merton, now playing an important role in the current greatest success of the century, “The Under Dog,” was a conscientious artist, and expected, the following season, to appear in a drama that concerned the underworld and its men and women. The play would be something entirely new, Mr. Merton said, and would reveal the denizens of the underworld in a new light.
    To be sure that he expressed the proper atmosphere when the play was produced, Mr. Merton—who always was willing to sacrifice comfort to art—was living in the lower end of the city, the article said. He had given up his comfortable apartment on the Drive and had a room far downtown, ate there, walked the streets there when his presence was not demanded at the theater, and was making an exhaustive study of the men and women there, going down into the dark places for the purposes of analysis and comparison.
    A few quoted paragraphs from Booth Mansfield Merton followed. He said:
    “There has been expressed for some time a certain glamor concerning the so-called underworld that does not exist in reality. The criminals of today are neither courageous nor clever, cunning nor sagacious. Only ignorance is found in the underworld of today—a vicious ignorance that is remarkable.”
    Thubway Tham felt anger growing within him when he read that paragraph. Tham felt that he was a good “dip,” and was rated as such by the police. He was neither ignorant nor vicious. He was a human being, was Tham, and because he picked pockets and belonged to a nefarious profession, it did not follow that he was an unintelligent beast.
    “I’d jutht like to meet that thimp,” Thubway Tham told himself. “Thtudying the underworld, ith he? I’d thoon give him thomething to thtudy, the ath. He ith a thuperior man, ith he? Thacrifithin’ comfort for art, ith he? He’ll thacrifith hith bank roll if he cometh around me!”
    II.
    Without knowing it, the press agent had let Booth Mansfield Merton in for a lot of trouble. Thubway Tham was not the only gentleman of irregular business who read that interview, and there was an expressed intention on the part of many to seek out Booth Mansfield Merton and “get him good.”
    But Thubway Tham had a big advantage. He had seen the man at work on the stage and knew him at sight.
    “If he only hath a roll on him,” Tham mused. “I’ll thow the thilly ath a thing or two. Neither cunning nor thagaciouth, am I not? We’ll thee.”
    Determination controlling him, his mind centered upon one object; in a manner of speaking, Thubway Tham deserted his beloved subway for a time and paced the streets, always alert to catch sight of the despised Booth Mansfield Merton. He even watched at the theater one evening and attempted to follow the actor when he left after the performance, but some