“Then you’ll stay in this thing? You’ll stick to the work?”
“Like a conscientious leech, Comrade Windsor.”
“Bully for you,” said Billy.
It was not Psmith’s habit, when he felt deeply on any subject, to exhibit his feelings; and this matter of the tenements had hit him harder than any one who did not know him intimately would have imagined. Mike would have understood him, but Billy Windsor was too recent an acquaintance. Psmith was one of those people who are content to accept most of the happenings of life in an airy spirit of tolerance. Life had been more or less of a game with him up till now. In his previous encounters with those with whom fate had brought him in contact there had been little at stake. The prize of victory had been merely a comfortable feeling of having had the best of a battle of wits; the penalty of defeat nothing worse than the discomfort of having failed to score. But this tenement business was different. Here he had touched the realities. There was something worth fighting for. His lot had been cast in pleasant places, and the sight of actual raw misery had come home to him with an added force from that circumstance. He was fully aware of the risks that he must run. The words of the man at the Astor, and still more the episodes of the family friend from Missouri and the taximeter cab, had shown him that this thing was on a different plane from anything that had happened to him before. It was a fight without the gloves, and to a finish at that. But he meant to see it through. Somehow or other those tenement houses had got to be cleaned up. If it meant trouble, as it undoubtedly did, that trouble would have to be faced.
“Now that Comrade Jarvis,” he said, “showing a spirit of forbearance which, I am bound to say, does him credit, has declined the congenial task of fracturing our occiputs, who should you say, Comrade Windsor, would be the chosen substitute?”
Billy shook his head. “Now that Bat has turned up the job, it might be any one of three gangs. There are four main gangs, you know. Bat’s is the biggest. But the smallest of them’s large enough to put us away, if we give them the chance.”
“I don’t quite grasp the nice points of this matter. Do you mean that we have an entire gang on our trail in one solid mass, or will it be merely a section?”
“Well, a section, I guess, if it comes to that. Parker, or whoever fixed this thing up, would go to the main boss of the gang. If it was the Three Points, he’d go to Spider Reilly. If it was the Table Hill lot, he’d look up Dude Dawson. And so on.”
“And what then?”
“And then the boss would talk it over with his own special partners. Every gang-leader has about a dozen of them. A sort of Inner Circle. They’d fix it up among themselves. The rest of the gang wouldn’t know anything about it. The fewer in the game, you see, the fewer to split up the dollars.”
“I see. Then things are not so black. All we have to do is to look out for about a dozen hooligans with a natural dignity in their bearing, the result of intimacy with the main boss. Carefully eluding these aristocrats, we shall win through. I fancy, Comrade Windsor, that all may yet be well. What steps do you propose to take by way of self-defence?”
“Keep out in the middle of the street, and not go off the Broadway after dark. You’re pretty safe on Broadway. There’s too much light for them there.”
“Now that our sleuth-hound friend in the taximeter has ascertained your address, shall you change it?”
“It wouldn’t do any good. They’d soon find where I’d gone to. How about yours?”
“I fancy I shall be tolerably all right. A particularly massive policeman is on duty at my very doors. So much for our private lives. But what of the day-time? Suppose these sandbag-specialists drop in at the office during business hours. Will Comrade Maloney’s frank and manly statement that we are not in be sufficient to keep them out? I doubt it. All unused to the nice conventions of polite society, these rugged persons will charge through. In such circumstances good work will be hard to achieve. Your literary man must have complete quiet if he is to give the public of his best. But stay. An idea!”