“The street is better than it used to be, fifty per cent,” he said, “but I must get on with my story. I hate to speak to you of the underworld, but it exists. Even the children know it. Some persons are bad and make their living off others. Now, as I said before, I never was a criminal. In fact, I was too low down for one, for I didn’t want to work. But traveling about the country I used to hear about famous sharpers. I was as dust under their feet, but when I would get into a tramp’s refuge of any kind I used to hear them talking of this one and that who had distinguished himself in the world of crime—you are listening, are you?” and he peered forward to look at Mrs. Everest’s face.
“Yes, Barry, listening and interested, but the light from that hall gas is not enough. I will light the lamp on this table,” and she took off its glass shade.
“Once, in Boston,” continued Barry, when she sat down again opposite him, “I had one of the best-known all-round criminals in the country pointed out to me. They said he could do anything, and he was only a young fellow. I saw him again later in the year in a small New Hampshire town. He was running away from justice, and the chase was getting hot. I recognized him, accosted him, and helped him. He laid over a few days in a shanty in the woods I was occupying, and proud enough I was of the honor, though at the same time, low-down tramp as I was, I had a kind of contempt for him. But it was an honor to boast of having been the host of Jim Smalley.”
“Poor Barry!” murmured Mrs. Everest, sympathetically.
“Now from that day till two days ago I have never set eyes on him,” pursued Barry. “But I’ve seen him on Grand Avenue. You know I took a liking to Judge Sancroft, and when I come to the city my feet always carry me up to take a turn round his house. Well, the other day I was getting near. I was plodding along by Saint Mark’s Church, when suddenly I saw a man in front of me sauntering along, smoking a cigarette.”
“Surely it wasn’t Smalley?” said Mrs. Everest, excitedly.
“Wait a bit,” replied Barry, with a gratified smile to think that he had aroused her interest. “I was gazing at him as one will gaze at a fellow stroller, when he quietly turned his head in the direction of the Judge’s house. I felt something cold come over me. It was Smalley.”
“Just imagine!” exclaimed his companion.
“Mrs. Everest,” he said, earnestly, “I can’t tell you how frightened I was and how glad. I felt as if a snake had uprisen in my path, and I was glad that I felt it was a snake. ‘Brace up, Barry,’ I said to myself, ‘you’re getting good. Once upon a time a meeting with the redoubtable Smalley would have afforded you amusement. Now your one thought is to get away from him.’”
“Good Barry!” said Mrs. Everest, approvingly.