Children of the Whirlwind

  CHAPTER IX

  Maggie, as she mounted to her room, was hardly conscious of the ringof menace in Barney's voice; but once she was in bed, his tone and hiswords came back to her and stirred a strange uneasiness in her mind.Barney was angry; Barney was cunning; Barney would stop at nothing togain his ends. What might be behind his threatening words?

  The next morning as she was coming in with milk for her breakfastcoffee, she met Larry in the Duchess's room behind the pawnshop. Hesmilingly planted himself squarely in her way.

  "See here, Maggie--aren't you ever going to speak to a fellow?"

  Something within her surged up impelling her to tell him of Barney'ssavage yet unformulated threat. The warning got as far as her tongue,and there halted, struggling.

  Her strange, fixed look startled Larry. "Why, what's the matter,Maggie?" he exclaimed.

  But her pride, her settled determination to unbend to him in no way andto have no dealings with him, were stronger than her impulse; and thestruggling warning remained unuttered.

  "Nothing's the matter," she said, and brushed past him and hurried upthe stairway.

  At times during the day, while tutoring with Mr. Bronson, Larry thoughtof Maggie's strange look. And his mind was upon it late in the afternoonwhen he entered the little street. But as he neared his grandmother'shouse all such thought was banished by Detective Gavegan of the CentralOffice stepping from the pawnshop and blocking the door with his bigfigure. There was grim, triumphant purpose on the hard features ofGavegan, conceited by nature and trained to harsh dominance by long ruleas a petty autocrat.

  "Hello, Gavegan," Larry greeted him pleasantly. "Gee, but you looktickled! Did the Duchess give you a bigger loan than you expected on theCarnegie medal you just hocked?"

  "You'll soon be cuttin' out your line of comedy." Gavegan slipped hisleft arm through Larry's right. "You're comin' along with me, and you'dbetter come quiet."

  Larry stiffened. "Come where?"

  "Headquarters."

  "I haven't done a thing, Gavegan, and you know it! What do you want mefor?"

  "Me and the Chief had a little talk about you," leered Gavegan. "And nowthe Chief wants to have a little personal talk with you. He asked me toround you up and bring you in."

  "I've done nothing, and I'll not go!" Larry cried hotly.

  "Oh, yes, you will!" Gavegan withdrew his right hand from his coatpocket where it had been resting in readiness. In the hand, its thongabout his wrist, was a short leather-covered object filled with lead."I've got my orders, and you'll come peaceably, or--But I'd just as soonyou'd resist, for I owe you something for the punch you slipped over onme the other night."

  Larry, taut with the desire to strike, gazed for a moment into theglowering face of the detective. Gavegan, gripping his right arm, withthat bone-crushing slug-shot itching for instant use, was apparentlymaster in the present circumstances. But before Larry's quick mind haddecided upon a course, the door of the pawnshop opened and closed, and avoice said sharply:

  "Nothing doing on that rough stuff, Gavegan!" The speaker was now onLarry's left side, a heavy-faced man in a black derby. "Larry, better bea nice boy and come with us."

  "Oh, it's you, Casey!" said Larry. "If you say I've got to go, I'llgo--for you're one white copper, even if you do have Gavegan for apartner. Come on. What're we standing here for?"

  The trio made their way out of the narrow street, and after some fifteenminutes of walking through the twisting byways of that part of the city,they passed through the granite doorway at Headquarters and entered theoffice of Deputy Commissioner Barlow, Chief of the Detective Bureau.Barlow was talking over the telephone in a growling staccato, and thethree men sat down. After a moment Barlow banged the receiver upon itshook, and turned upon them. He had a clenched, driving face, with small,commanding eyes. It was his boast that he got results, that it was hispolicy to make people do what you told 'em. He had no other code.

  "Well, Brainard," he snapped, "here you are again. What you up to now?"

  "Going to try the straight game, Chief," returned Larry.

  "Don't try to put that old bunk over on me!"

  "It's not bunk, Chief. It's the real stuff."

  "Cut it out, I say! Don't you suppose I had a clever bird like youpicked up the minute you landed in the city, and have had you coveredever since? And if you are going straight, what about the session youhad with Barney Palmer and Old Jimmie Carlisle the very night you blewin? And I'm on to this bluff of your going to that business institute.So come across, Brainard! I've got your every move covered!"

  "I've already come across, Chief," replied Larry, trying to keep histemper in the face of the other's bullying manner. "I told Barney andOld Jimmie that I was through with the old game, and through with themas pals at the old game--that's all there was to that meeting. I'm goingto that business institute for the same reason that every other persongoes there--to learn. That's all there is to the whole business, Chief:I'm going to go straight."

  Chief Barlow, hunched forward, his undershot jaw clenched on a cigarstub, regarded Larry steadily with his beady, autocratic eyes. Barlowwas trained to penetrate to the inside of men's minds, and he recognizedthat Larry was in earnest.

  "You mean you think you are going to go straight," Barlow remarkedslowly and meaningly.

  "I know I am going to go straight," Larry returned evenly, meetingsquarely the gaze of the Chief of Detectives.

  "Do you realize, young man," Barlow continued in the same measured,significant tone, "that whether you go straight, and how you gostraight, depends pretty much on me?"

  "Mind making that a little clearer, Chief?"

  "I'll show you part of my hand--just remember that I'm holding back myhigh cards. I don't believe you're going to go straight, so we'll startwith the proposition that you're not going to run straight and work onfrom there. You're clever, Brainard--I hand you that; and all the classycrooks trust you. That's why I had picked you out for what I wanted longbefore you left stir. Brainard, you're wise enough to know that someof our best pinches come from tips handed us from the inside.Brainard"--the slow voice had now become incisive, mandatory--"you'renot going to go straight. You're going to string along with Barney andOld Jimmie and the rest of the bunch--we'll protect you--and you'regoing to slip us tips when something big is about to be pulled off."

  Larry, experienced with police methods though he was, could hardlybelieve this thing which was being proposed to him, Larry Brainard. Buthe controlled himself.

  "If I get you, Chief, you are suggesting that I become a police stool?"

  "Exactly. We'll never tip your hand. And any little thing you pull offon your own we'll not bother you about. And, besides, we'll slip you alittle dough regular on the quiet."

  "And all you want me to do in exchange," Larry asked quietly, "is tohand up my pals?"

  "That's all."

  Larry found it required his all of strength to control himself; but hedid.

  "There are only three small objections to your proposition, Chief."

  "Yes?"

  "The first is, I shall not be a stool."

  "What's that?"

  "And the second is, I wouldn't squeal on a pal to you even if I were acrook. And the third is what I said in the beginning: I'm not going tobe a crook."

  Barlow's squat, powerful figure arose menacingly. Casey also stood up.

  "I tell you you ARE going to be a crook!" Barlow's big fist crashed downon his desk in a tremendous exclamation point. "And you're going to workfor me exactly as I tell you!"

  "I have already given you my final word," said Larry.

  "You--you--" Barlow almost choked at this quiet defiance. His faceturned red, his breath came in a fluttering snarl, his powerfulshoulders hunched up as if he were about to strike. But he held back hisphysical blows.

  "That's your ultimatum?"

  "If you care to call it so--yes."

  "Then here's mine! I told you I was holding back my high cards. Eitheryou do as I say, and wor
k with Gavegan and Casey, or you'll not be ableto hold a job in New York! My men will see to that. And here's anotherhigh card. You do as I've said, or I'll hang some charge on you, onethat'll stick, and back up the river you'll go for another stretch!There's an ultimatum for you to think about!"

  It certainly was. Larry gazed into the harsh, glaring face, set infierce determination. He knew that Barlow, as part of his policy, lovedto break down the spirit of criminals; and he knew that nothing soroused Barlow as opposition from a man he considered in his power. Closebeside the Chief he saw the gloating, malignant face of Gavegan; Casey,who had been restless since the beginning of the scene, had moved to thewindow and was gazing down into Center Street.

  For a moment Larry did not reply. Barlow mistook Larry's silence forwavering, or the beginning of an inclination to yield.

  "You turn that over in your noodle," Barlow drove on. "You're goingto go crooked, anyhow, so you might as well go crooked in the only waythat's safe for you. I'm going to have Gavegan and Casey watch you, andif in the next few days you don't begin to string along with Barney andOld Jimmie and that bunch, and if you don't get me word that your answerto my proposition is 'yes,' hell's going to fall on you! Now get out ofhere!"

  Larry got out. He was liquid lava of rage inside; but he had had enoughto do with police power to know that it would help him not at all topermit an eruption against a police official while he was in the veryheart of the police stronghold.

  He walked back toward his own street in a fury, beneath which wassubconsciously an element of uneasiness: an uneasiness which would havebeen instantly roused to caution had he known that Barney Palmer hadthis hour and more been following him in a taxicab, and that across thestreet from the car's window Barney's sharp face had watched him enterPolice Headquarters and had watched him emerge.

  Home reached, Larry briefly recounted his experience at Headquarters toHunt and the Duchess. The painter whistled; the Duchess blinked and saidnothing at all.

  "Maggie was more right than she knew when she first said you were facinga tough proposition!" exclaimed Hunt. "Believe me, young fellow, you'recertainly up against it!"

  "Can you beat it for irony!" said Larry, pacing the floor. "A man wantsto go straight. His pals ask him to be a crook, and are sore becausehe won't be a crook. The police ask him to be a crook, and threaten himbecause he doesn't want to be a crook. Some situation!"

  "Some situation!" repeated Hunt. "What're you going to do?"

  "Do?" Larry halted, his face set with defiant determination. "I'm goingto keep on doing exactly what I've been doing! And they can all go tohell!"