CAUGHT IN THE ACT.
Johnny Petersen looked in surprise, consternation, and wrath when the
two little cripples entered his shop the next morning, shamefaced and
sheepish, as if they expected to be called to account for something.
And he did not lose time in making known the cause of his displeasure,
could they, indeed, have had any doubt on that question.
Matty's hair was gone, cut close to her head, almost shaved off; and
the loss of it gave the poor little face a more wizened, pinched, and
unnatural expression than ever. The effect was perfectly startling, and
repulsive in the extreme; and after staring at the child for a moment,
and all but dropping the flower-pot he held in his hands, he broke
forth into a torrent of words, mingling German and broken English in a
manner which made them all but incomprehensible to the poor little
ones. But they knew well enough what brought them forth, and they had
no explanation to offer. It was their secret, and must remain a secret,
so they thought, if the sacrifice were to be worth any thing.
Naturally, Johnny laid the blame of the transformation on the debased
parents, whom he knew to be capable of any deed, no matter how shameful
or cruel, if thereby they could obtain the means to procure liquor.
Tony and Matty gathered, from the jargon which he sputtered forth, that
this was his idea; and they were quite satisfied to have it so, for no
sentiments of filial affection moved them to enlighten him.
And it was not only the loss of that wealth of hair which made Matty
look far worse than she had ever done before. She had not on the decent
garments she had worn for some time past, but was in the ragged and
soiled clothes which she had of late worn only when she went home at
night, discarding them in the morning when she stopped at Mrs.
Petersen's and put on the better ones which had been given to her. To
all Petersen's questions she opposed a sullen silence; although she
hung her head, and appeared embarrassed, which she was not apt to be.
But Tony, with his jolly little face clouded over, appeared really
distressed, and looked from his sister to the florist and back again in
a distraught, helpless sort of way, which quite touched the heart of
the kind old Dutchman; but neither from him could Johnny's rather
incoherent questions draw forth any satisfaction, and the children both
were glad when the entrance of a customer drew Johnny's attention for
the time from themselves.
But the situation did not improve for the two little unfortunates when
Mrs. Petersen, uneasy that they had not appeared at her rooms for the
usual change of clothing, came bustling up to know if her husband could
tell her any thing of them; and, not a little astonished to find Matty
at her post and Tony also at his, plied them anew with questions in
English rather better than her husband's, and to which it was more
difficult to avoid giving straightforward replies. But she gained as
little as he had done, and she, too, took it for granted that either
the father or mother had deprived the little hunchback of her hair.
The truth was, that the children had not cared to face her with the
change in Matty's appearance, and hence had concluded to come to the
day's business in their old clothes.
But Mrs. Petersen, energetic and stirring, was not going to let the
matter rest thus, but was determined to probe it to the bottom if
possible, and declared that she was going at once to see the mother,
and call her to account. Whether she had some vague idea of bringing
the supposed offenders to justice, or of restoring the lost locks to
Matty, I cannot tell; but just as she was leaving, Milly, Bessie, and
I, bound for an early trip to spend the day with a friend in the
country, whose birthday it was, came into the shop to purchase some
flowers.
The morning was damp and chilly, although there was the promise of a
fair day later on; and Matty's stand was placed inside when we entered
the shop, and the first thing our eyes rested upon was Matty's shorn
head. We all three leaped at once to the same conclusion with the
Petersens. But whether it was that I was more forcibly struck than the
others with the cruelty of the thing, from having something of a
fellow-feeling for Matty in the possession of a profuse quantity of
hair somewhat like her own, although, as she had said, hers had been
"purtier" than mine, despite the lack of the care which mine had always
received, or that I had less self-control over my emotions; certain it
is that I burst into a passion of tears and sobs, which astonished not
only the good florist and his wife, but also my own sister and friend.
I was ashamed of them, but could not control them; and perhaps it was
as well that I could not do so immediately, for those tears made their
way where all else had failed to effect an entrance; and, to my great
astonishment, Matty seized with both her hands upon mine, which in my
great pity and sympathy I had laid upon her shoulder, and, carrying it
to her face, laid her cheek upon it. The next instant she dropped it,
and sat looking down with the same stolid expression that she
ordinarily wore. Indeed, it had hardly changed even at the moment of
that most unusual demonstration, for no trace of any emotion had been
visible on the worn, old little face.
Tony was delighted, as pleased as though his sister had given evidence
of some wonderful talent, or performed some heroic action.
"She likes ye, miss," he exclaimed, "an' I allus knowed she did, though
she wouldn't let on. She likes ye fust rate, though she wor kinder
back'ard 'bout lettin' on. Now don't ye like the lady, Matty? If she
hadn't liked ye lots, miss, she wouldn't er----" Here he checked
himself with a frightened, embarrassed look, and rushing out of the
little store, applied himself vigorously to the turning of his empty,
tireless peanut-roaster.
But not a word, and not another token of any thing like feeling, was to
be drawn from Matty. The rock had hardened again, and to all
appearances no softening influences could be brought to bear upon it.
It was not until Mrs. Petersen again expressed her positive intention
of going to call the elder Blairs to account, and was about to start
off for that purpose, that the child roused herself again, and turned,
with something of apprehension in her expression, to look for Tony,
who, having discovered that he was working aimlessly, was making ready
to kindle his charcoal and fill his roaster.
"I go to dat mutter an' fader; I gif dem some pieces of my mi-int,"
said Mrs. Petersen, as she turned toward the door; but Milly stopped
her.
"Do not, please, Mrs. Petersen," she said, in a tone too low to reach
Matty's ear. "It will only make trouble for yourself and us. We cannot
give poor Matty back her beautiful hair; and if you vex those dreadful
people, it will only put fresh difficulties in the way of persuading
them to give up the children."
"I tell dem my mi-int," persisted Mrs. Petersen; but finally she was
persuaded to listen to reason and to satisfy herself with relieving her
"mi-int."
My idea had been to induce Mrs. Petersen and Johnny--or Mrs. Petersen
rather, for Johnny was sure to follow her lead, to take Matty and Tony
under their care, and give them a home. Cousin Serena had offered to
furnish the means for Tony's support, and I to do the same for Matty.
But the florist and his wife had been unwilling to undertake the
charge, even if the parents could be bribed to give up the children,
lest they should be exposed to trouble in the future; therefore the
Blairs had not yet been approached on the subject. I was for taking
high-handed measures, and having the children separated from them on
the ground of neglect and cruelty; but wiser and less impulsive heads
than mine had decided that there was hardly sufficient reason for this,
and I had been obliged to restrain my impatience and content myself
with such alleviations of their lot as I could compass at present. I am
not patient by nature, and could not bear to have any delay or
hinderances put in the way of my schemes for the benefit of those
children, and in secret I chafed a little over this.
It will readily be surmised what had become of Matty's hair.
Doubting the truth of Theodore's story, and yet fearing that there
might be some foundation for it, Tony had confided to his sister that
he meant to ask Jim about it, notwithstanding Theodore's warning to
beware how he did so. Jim's anger at the questions he had put,
especially at that regarding the "poisoning," had been enough to
convince him that it was all true. Jim _had_ a secret which he was
afraid to have known; and that secret could be nothing more nor less
than the alleged poisoning, which he plainly could not or would not
deny; and which, according to ignorant little Tony's ideas, he was
afraid to have come to the ears of the police. Theodore had learned of
that unfortunate occurrence--as we heard later when all this came to
light--through the medium of a stray copy of the objectionable paper
containing the paragraph before referred to. This he had happened to
read to his grandfather and grandmother, who, proud of his ability to
do this far better than they could do it for themselves--for reading
with Captain and Mrs. Yorke was a work of time and difficulty,
involving more pains-taking than pleasure--often set him to amuse them
in this way in the evening.
"Madison Avenue" to Captain Yorke was comprised in the block on which
our house was situated; and the curiosity of the old man being
insatiable, he had never rested until he had located the house. By dint
of questioning Thomas and the other servants, he soon learned all there
was to know, and was greatly excited and very wrathy when he heard the
truth. He repeated this to his wife and grandson, bidding them never to
say a word about it, as the family had been much annoyed and
displeased. Theodore, however, had once ventured to ask Jim about the
matter, and had been met by such a burst of fury that he had never
ventured to speak of it again to him. Not for fear of offending Jim,
however, but because he dreaded the anger of his grandfather, should
Jim complain, as he threatened to do, to the old man; for Jim would
have told in this case on my account.
But it answered Theodore's purpose when he set himself to work to
devise means to obtain the five dollars he coveted. He had aroused the
fears of these ignorant children for those who had been kind to them,
and having been convinced by Jim's behavior that it was all true, Tony
had proposed what indeed had been in Matty's mind before, that she
should sell her hair, and so buy Theodore's silence. Matty had agreed;
and that morning, before they had made their appearance at the
florist's, they had gone to a barber's, and, with small worldly wisdom,
Tony had demanded if he would give five dollars for Matty's hair.
Gazing with astonishment and delight at the mine of wealth displayed
for his approbation, the barber drew the long silky tresses through his
fingers, and closed the bargain at once, as well he might, supposing
him to be possessed of neither heart nor conscience. Matty's head was
expeditiously shorn, and the proceeds of the unrighteous sale were put
into Tony's hands; for he had appeared as the speaking partner
throughout the transaction, Matty maintaining the usual impassive,
sullen silence, so seldom broken save for her brother and the
Petersens.
The next thing to do was to see Theodore and to hand him the money; and
being in haste to do this before he should have time to give the
dreaded information to the police, Tony went to the boarding-place
which was his home at present, Matty waiting for her brother on the
neighboring corner, and asked for Theodore.
Now, this proceeding, as it proved, brought swift detection and
punishment upon the young blackmailer.
Theodore had not remembered to guard against the children coming to the
house; indeed, he had not thought of his rascally scheme bearing fruit
at all so soon.
Happily for the frustration of that scheme, Theodore was out, having
been sent on an errand by his grandfather; and the old captain himself,
who was lounging on the front steps, was the one who first met the lame
boy. Tony, who was not able to read numbers, had not been quite sure of
his ground in the row of houses all so much alike; but he had no
further doubt when he saw Captain Yorke.
At first he drew back, uncertain whether to make it known that his
business was with Theodore; but his fear that his tormentor would "tell
the perlice" before he had the opportunity to quiet him was too strong
for his caution, and he asked the captain if Theodore was "to home."
"No, he ain't; an' what ye want with Theodore, sonny?" asked the
captain.
Tony hesitated and fidgeted; and the old man asked sharply and quickly,
"He ain't been hookin' your peanuts agin?"
"No--o," stammered Tony; and the captain, coming down the steps to
where the boy stood, laid his hand upon his shoulder, and said
sternly,--although the sternness was not for the cripple,--
"Ef he's touched another peanut, or been a-wrongin' of ye any way, tell
me,--tell me right off. What is it?"
But Tony dared not tell; and the honest old seaman, whose confidence in
his grandson had never been fully restored, was convinced that he had
been about some of his evil ways again. He could do nothing with Tony,
however; no persuasions could avail to draw any explanation from him;
and he presently made his escape, hobbling down the street with the
marvellous celerity with which he used his crutches, leaving the
captain a prey to disquietude and apprehension.
Nor had he hope of obtaining any thing like the truth from Theodore
himself: so he asked him no questions when he returned, nor did he tell
him that Tony had come to ask for him, but, after taking counsel with
himself, resolved to see Johnny Petersen, and tell him to be on the
watch; and soon after we had left the florist's, he appeared there.
Tony saw the old Brutus coming down the street, stern and determined of
aspect, trouble in every line of his weather-beaten countenance, and
supposed himself to be his objective point. Dreading further catechism,
and not being willing to encounter it, he dropped the crank of the
peanut-roaster, and was off again before the captain was near enough to
speak. Johnny could tell nothing, he thought, save that Matty's hair
was gone, which the old man could not fail to see for himself; and his
sister, he well knew, would not speak. For a moment he thought he would
seize his opportunity, and hasten back to the house while Captain Yorke
was away, and hand Theodore the five dollars; but he recollected that
the oppressor would be at school, and so this would be useless. From a
safe distance he watched for the captain's departure, and did not
venture near his post till he saw him come out and walk away.
As he had foreseen, not a word could either Captain Yorke or the
florist draw from Matty, when the former had made known the purpose of
his coming; and they both questioned her closely. One might have
thought that she was utterly deaf and dumb as she sat opposing that
stolid, determined silence to all they said. Johnny knew nothing which
could throw any light on the subject; and after telling him of Tony's
embarrassment, and bidding him be on the watch, the heavy-hearted old
man left the little shop.
Johnny did keep on the watch, but refrained from asking Tony any
questions, keeping his eye upon him, however; but no further
developments appeared until later in the day, when he saw Theodore
coming down the other side of the avenue, and observed that Tony raised
a warning finger to him as if to bid him keep his distance. Theodore
paused on the opposite corner, and Tony went over to meet him.
Considerations of delicacy did not withhold Johnny from intruding upon
what was evidently meant to be a private interview; and when, after a
moment's converse, Tony put his hand in his pocket, and drew forth
something which he gave to Theodore, the florist darted from his shop,
and rushed across the street with an agility which was hardly to be
expected from one of his years and girth.
Theodore saw him coming, and his guilty conscience leaped to the truth;
Johnny suspected something wrong, and was coming to accuse him.
Closing his hand tightly on the prize which he had just received from
his victim, he turned, and started to run. But an avenging Nemesis, in
the shape of a piece of orange-peel, was behind him; his foot slipped
upon it, and he came heavily to the ground. Before he could rise, the
florist precipitated himself upon him with so much momentum, that he
too lost his balance, and fell flat upon the boy. Not one whit
disturbed was Johnny, however, by the fear that he might have injured
his prisoner, although he had half knocked the breath from the boy's
body; on the contrary, he would, I think, have been quite pleased to
know that Theodore was seriously bruised.
Rising with some difficulty, and not without assistance from a
passer-by who had seen the catastrophe, puffing and panting, but still
retaining the hold he had taken of Theodore's collar, he hauled the boy
to his feet, and, regardless of the punishment he had already
inflicted, gave him a hard cuff upon the ear, saying,--
"You runs away from me, will you? I learns you, my poy, you shtays ven
I vants to shpeak mit you."
Supposing from this authoritative address that he was the father of the
boy who had been guilty of some wrong, the man who had helped him
passed on his way, leaving him to deal with the culprit as he saw fit.
And Johnny saw fit to handle him with any thing but gentleness, pushing
him before him across the street, and into the shop, giving him now and
then a vicious shake, diversifying this with an occasional punch in the
back with the fist of the disengaged hand. Had they had any distance to
go, they would probably have drawn a crowd after them; as it was, they
reached Johnny's quarters without attracting any special attention.
"Now," said the breathless florist when he had his captive safely
within the shelter of the shop, "now, vat is your pusiness mit Tony?
Tony is my scharge, an' I don' let him talks mit poys what shteals what
don' pelongs to dem. Vat you got here?"
And he seized the tightly closed hand containing the five dollars,
which Theodore had not yet found opportunity to conceal in a safer
place. Theodore resisted; but he was no match for Petersen, who tripped
him up again without compunction, and, regardless of consequences to
the surrounding plants,--which happily came to no harm in the
struggle,--sat upon him, and opened his hand with both his own.
Five dollars!
Johnny was not a particularly brilliant Dutchman, and his mind was
generally slow in arriving at any conclusion; but the two and two which
were to be put together here were not difficult to compute; and as he
looked from the five-dollar bill to Matty's shorn head, and back again,
he was not long in deciding that they made four. Matty for once showed
some sign of emotion as she sat rubbing her hand over her poor little
head in a nervous manner; although beyond this, and the stare with
which she regarded the combatants, she showed no trace of interest in
the affair, never once opening her lips.
"So!" said the florist, holding out the bill at arm's length,--"so! How
is dis? You put Matty's head to de schissors, an' take him all off, und
you shteal den her monish. De peanuts is a pad pisness; but dis is so
much vorse as it goes to de prison. Tell me, Tony, how is dis?"
"I didn't steal it, he gave it to me; and I didn't touch Matty's hair,"
panted the prostrate Theodore. "He--he--he wanted me to do something
for him, and he said he would give me that if I did it. Oh! let me up!"
"Hole your mout, and shpeak ven you is shpoken mit," said Johnny.
"Tony, shpeak an' tell me. How vas it? You is cut off Matty's head; you
is got de monish, five tollars, vat I tells you he is vort; now tell me
what for you gifs dis five tollars to dis pad poy, a poy so vorse as I
do not know. I _vill_ haf you tell me; if no, I calls de police."
There was no escape; on all hands Tony saw visions of the police, who
would soon ferret out the whole matter, away back to Miss Amy and Jim
(so Tony thought); and he found it best to throw himself and all
concerned on the mercy of his old friend, and make a full confession.
As he told the shameful story of how Theodore had threatened to tell
Jim's "secret," and to let the police know of the "poisoning" unless
somebody paid him five dollars to keep it quiet; of the confirmation he
had himself received from Jim's manner and words when he asked him
about it; of how he and Matty had resolved to save their friends by the
sacrifice of the hair which Johnny himself had often told them was
worth so much money; of how they had gone to the barber's, and sold the
hair; and lastly, how he, seeing Theodore on the opposite side of the
street, had hurried over to bribe him with the five dollars to hold his
peace, and how Theodore had accepted the price,--the kind-hearted
florist waxed more and more angry; and when he rose, and once more
hauled the boy to his feet, it was only to seize a cane, and administer
such a chastisement as the culprit had seldom or never received.
Theodore made little or no outcry, however, for he was afraid of
attracting attention from without, and perhaps himself falling into the
hands of the law; for he did not know, if his deeds were once made
public, how far he might be under the ban of that authority.
"Now you go," said Johnny, when at last he paused, breathless from all
his exertions, and with one final shake released his captive; "go und
tell de gran'fader I fin' vat is de matter out, und I gifs de vorst
vips as I could gif to de vorst poy in all de down, und so I safes him
some droubles. But if he dinks to gif you some more of de same veesic,
I dink it not too moosh. For dat gran'fader, I says notings to de
police for dis time; bud if you says one leetle more vord apout de
young lady or dat goot poy Jim, or makes afrait any more dese
schillens, den you see some dings to make you shtare. Go, go!"
And Theodore stood not upon the order of his going.
The pleasure of the day with our friends had been much marred for me by
the recollection of the shorn head of my forlorn little _protégée_ and
the repulsive appearance she now presented; and I was more than ever
anxious to remove her from the father and mother, who, I thought, had
treated her so unjustly and cruelly; and I could not reconcile myself
to the idea that this afforded no grounds for my taking them away.
But that difficulty was presently to be solved in the most satisfactory
way to those who had at heart the welfare of the crippled children.
Mother had occasion to send Jim upon an errand shortly after his return
from school that afternoon; and he found it convenient, according to
his usual custom, to return by a roundabout way, and stop at the
peanut-stand. The excitement in Johnny's small establishment had hardly
subsided when he made his appearance, and it was little wonder that he
tarried long on his errand; so long, indeed, that mother rather lost
patience, and said that she should forbid his stopping at his favorite
haunt, except by express permission, if this occurred again. But his
want of punctuality was quite forgiven when he came in with the tidings
which he bore.
As usual, however, when any question arose of Theodore's want of
principle, or any instance of it was shown, there was something in
Jim's manner which excited the attention of those of the household
under whose immediate observation he most came; and again Milly was
surprised to see how wistful, uneasy, and absolutely nervous he was,
appearing, as he often had before, as if there were something on his
mind which he wished to tell her, but which he could not muster courage
to confess.