pgw.psmith,journalist-第16章

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　happened？　Why；　see　here；　just　like　this　it　was。　Pat　goes　out　with　his　cart。　Passing　through　a　low…down　street　on　his　way　up…town　he's　held　up　by　a　bunch　of　toughs。　He　shows　fight。　Half　a　dozen　of　them　attend　to　him；　while　the　rest　gets　clean　away　with　every　copy　of　the　paper　there　was　in　the　cart。　When　the　cop　es　along；　there's　Pat　in　pieces　on　the　ground　and　nobody　in　sight　but　a　Dago　chewing　gum。　Cop　asks　the　Dago　what's　been　doing；　and　the　Dago　says　he's　only　just　e　round　the　corner　and　ha'n't　seen　nothing　of　anybody。　What　I　want　to　know　is；　what's　it　all　about？　Who's　got　it　in　for　us　and　why？〃
　Mr。　Wheeler　leaned　back　in　his　chair；　while　Billy；　his　hair　rumpled　more　than　ever　and　his　eyes　glowing；　explained　the　situation。　Mr。　Wheeler　listened　absolutely　unmoved；　and；　when　the　narrative　had　e　to　an　end；　gave　it　as　his　opinion　that　the　editorial　staff　had　sand。　That　was　his　sole　ment。　〃It's　up　to　you；〃　he　said；　rising。　〃You　know　your　business。　Say；　though；　some　one　had　better　get　busy　right　quick　and　do　something　to　stop　these　guys　rough…housing　like　this。　If　we　get　a　few　more　carriers　beat　up　the　way　Pat　was；　there'll　be　a　strike。　It's　not　as　if　they　were　all　Irishmen。　The　most　of　them　are　Dagoes　and　such；　and　they　don't　want　any　more　fight　than　they　can　get　by　beating　their　wives　and　kicking　kids　off　the　sidewalk。　I'll　do　my　best　to　get　this　paper　distributed　right　and　it's　a　shame　if　it　ain't；　because　it's　going　big　just　nowbut　it's　up　to　you。　Good　day；　gents。〃
　He　went　out。　Psmith　looked　at　Billy。
　〃As　rade　Wheeler　remarks；〃　he　said；　〃it　is　up　to　us。　What　do　you　propose　to　do　about　it？　This　is　a　move　of　the　enemy　which　I　have　not　anticipated。　I　had　fancied　that　their　operations　would　be　confined　exclusively　to　our　two　selves。　If　they　are　going　to　strew　the　street　with　our　carriers；　we　are　somewhat　in　the　soup。〃
　Billy　said　nothing。　He　was　chewing　the　stem　of　an　unlighted　pipe。　Psmith　went　on。
　〃It　means；　of　course；　that　we　must　buck　up　to　a　certain　extent。　If　the　campaign　is　to　be　a　long　one；　they　have　us　where　the　hair　is　crisp。　We　cannot　stand　the　strain。　Cosy　Moments　cannot　be　muzzled；　but　it　can　undoubtedly　be　choked。　What　we　want　to　do　is　to　find　out　the　name　of　the　man　behind　the　tenements　as　soon　as　ever　we　can　and　publish　it；　and；　then；　if　we　perish；　fall　yelling　the　name。〃
　Billy　admitted　the　soundness　of　this　scheme；　but　wished　to　know　how　it　was　to　be　done。
　〃rade　Windsor；〃　said　Psmith。　〃I　have　been　thinking　this　thing　over；　and　it　seems　to　me　that　we　are　on　the　wrong　track；　or　rather　we　aren't　on　any　track　at　all；　we　are　simply　marking　time。　What　we　want　to　do　is　to　go　out　and　hustle　round　till　we　stir　up　something。　Our　line　up　to　the　present　has　been　to　sit　at　home　and　scream　vigorously　in　the　hope　of　some　stout　fellow　hearing　and　rushing　to　help。　In　other　words；　we've　been　saying　in　the　paper　what　an　out…size　in　scugs　the　merchant　must　be　who　owns　those　tenements；　in　the　hope　that　somebody　else　will　agree　with　us　and　be　sufficiently　interested　to　get　to　work　and　find　out　who　the　blighter　is。　That's　all　wrong。　What　we　must　do　now；　rade　Windsor；　is　put　on　our　hats；　such　hats　as　rade　Repetto　has　left　us；　and　sally　forth　as　sleuth…hounds　on　our　own　account。〃
　〃Yes；　but　how？〃　demanded　Billy。　〃That's　all　right　in　theory；　but　how's　it　going　to　work　in　practice？　The　only　thing　that　can　corner　the　man　is　a　mission。〃
　〃Far　from　it；　rade　Windsor。　The　job　may　be　worked　more　simply。　I　don't　know　how　often　the　rents　are　collected　in　these　places；　but　I　should　say　at　a　venture　once　a　week。　My　idea　is　to　hang　negligently　round　till　the　rent…collector　arrives；　and　when　he　has　loomed　up　on　the　horizon；　buttonhole　him　and　ask　him　quite　politely；　as　man　to　man；　whether　he　is　collecting　those　rents　for　himself　or　for　somebody　else；　and　if　somebody　else；　who　that　somebody　else　is。　Simple；　I　fancy？　Yet　brainy。　Do　you　take　me；　rade　Windsor？〃
　Billy　sat　up；　excited。　〃I　believe　you've　hit　it。〃
　Psmith　shot　his　cuffs　modestly。
　
　CHAPTER　XVIII
　AN　EPISODE　BY　THE　WAY
　
　IT　was　Pugsy　Maloney　who；　on　the　following　morning；　brought　to　the　office　the　gist　of　what　is　related　in　this　chapter。　Pugsy's　version　was；　however；　brief　and　unadorned；　as　was　the　way　with　his　narratives。　Such　things　as　first　causes　and　piquant　details　he　avoided；　as　tending　to　prolong　the　telling　excessively；　thus　keeping　him　from　perusal　of　his　cowboy　stories。　The　way　Pugsy　put　it　was　as　follows。　He　gave　the　thing　out　merely　as　an　item　of　general　interest；　a　bubble　on　the　surface　of　the　life　of　a　great　city。　He　did　not　know　how　nearly　interested　were　his　employers　in　any　matter　touching　that　gang　which　is　known　as　the　Three　Points。　Pugsy　said：　〃Dere's　trouble　down　where　I　live。　Dude　Dawson's　mad　at　Spider　Reilly；　an'　now　de　Table　Hills　are　layin'　for　de　T'ree　Points。　Sure。〃　He　had　then　retired　to　his　outer　fastness；　yielding　further　details　jerkily　and　with　the　distrait　air　of　one　whose　mind　is　elsewhere。
　Skilfully　extracted　and　pieced　together；　these　details　formed　themselves　into　the　following　typical　narrative　of　East　Side　life　in　New　York。
　The　really　important　gangs　of　New　York　are　four。　There　are　other　less　important　institutions；　but　these　are　little　more　than　mere　friendly　gatherings　of　old　boyhood　chums　for　purposes　of　mutual　panionship。　In　time　they　may　grow；　as　did　Bat　Jarvis's　coterie；　into　formidable　organisations；　for　the　soil　is　undoubtedly　propitious　to　such　growth。　But　at　present　the　amount　of　ice　which　good　judges　declare　them　to　cut　is　but　small。　They　〃stick　up〃　an　occasional　wayfarer　for　his　〃cush；〃　and　they　carry　〃canisters〃　and　sometimes　fire　them　off；　but　these　things　do　not　signify　the　cutting　of　ice。　In　matters　political　there　are　only　four　gangs　which　count；　the　East　Side；　the　Groome　Street；　the　Three　Points；　and　the　Table　Hill。　Greatest　of　these　by　virtue　of　their　numbers　are　the　East　Side　and　the　Groome　Street；　the　latter　presided　over　at　the　time　of　this　story　by　Mr。　Bat　Jarvis。　These　two　are　colossal；　and；　though　they　may　fight　each　other；　are　immune　from　attack　at　the　hands　of　lesser　gangs。　But　between　the　other　gangs；　and　especially　between　the　Table　Hill　and　the　Three　Points；　which　are　much　of　a　size；　warfare　rages　as　briskly　as　among　the　republics　of　South　America。　There　has　always　been　bad　blood　between　the　Table　Hill　and　the　Three　Points；　and　until　they　wipe　each　other　out　after　the　manner　of　the　Kilkenny　cats；　it　is　probable　that　there　always　will　be。　Little　events；　trifling　in　themselves；　have　always　occurred　to　shatter　friendly　relations　just　when　there　has　seemed　a　chance　of　their　being　formed。　Thus；　just　as　the　Table　Hillites　were　beginning　to　forgive　the　Three　Points　for　shooting　the　redoubtable　Paul　Horgan　down　at　Coney　Island；　a　Three　Pointer　injudiciously　wiped　out　another　of　the　rival　gang　near　Canal　Street。　He　pleaded　self…defence；　and　in　any　case　it　was　probably　mere　thoughtlessness；　but　nevertheless　the　Table　Hillites　were　ruffled。
　That　had　been　a　month　or　so　back。　During　that　month　things　had　been　simmering　down；　and　peace　was　just　preparing　to　brood　when　there　occurred　the　incident　to　which　Pugsy　had　alluded；　the　regrettable　falling　out　of　Dude　Dawson　and　Spider　Reilly　at　Mr。　Maginnis's　dancing　saloon；　Shamrock　Hall；　the　same　which　Bat　Jarvis　had　been　called　in　to　protect　in　the　days　before　the　Groome　Street　gang　began　to　be。
　Shamrock　Hall；　being　under　the　eyes　of　the　great　Bat；　was；　of　course；　forbidden　ground；　and　it　was　with　no　intention　of　spoiling　the　harmony　of　the　evening　that　Mr。　Dawson　had　looked　in。　He　was　there　in　a　purely　private　and　peaceful　character。
　As　he　sat　smoking；　sipping；　and　observing　the　revels；　there　settled　at　the　next　table　Mr。　Robert　（〃Nigger〃）　Coston；　an　eminent　member　of　the　Three　Points。
　There　being　temporary　peace　between　the　two　gangs；　the　great　men　exchanged　a　not　unfriendly　nod　and；　after　a　short　pause；　a　word　or　two。　Mr。　Coston；　alluding　to　an　Italian　who　had　just　pirouetted　past；　remarked　that　there　sure　was　some　class　to　the　way　that　wop　hit　it　up。　Mr。　Dawson　said　Yup；　there　sure　was。　You　would　have　said　that　all　Nature　smiled。
　Alas！　The　next　moment　the　sky　was　covered　with　black　clouds　and　the　storm　broke。　For　Mr。　Dawson；　continuing　in　this　vein　of　criticism；　rather　injudiciously　gave　it　as　his　opinion　that　one　of　the　lady　dancers　had　two　left　feet。
　For　a　moment　Mr。　Coston　did　not　see　which　lady　was　alluded　to；
　〃De　goil　in　de　pink　skoit；〃　said　Mr。　Dawson；　facilitating　the　other's　search　by　pointing　with　a　much…chewed　cigarette。　It　was　at　this　moment　that　Nature's　smile　was　shut　off　as　if　by　a　tap。　For　the　lady　in　the　pink　skirt　had　been　in　receipt　of　Mr。　Coston's　respectful　devotion　for　the　past　eight　days。
　From　this　point　onwards　the　march　of　events　was　rapid。
　Mr。　Coston；　rising；　asked　Mr。　Dawson　who　he　thought　he；　Mr。　Dawson；　was。
　Mr。　Dawson；　extinguishing　his　cigarette　and　placing　it　behind　his　ear；　replied　that　he　was　the　fellow　who　could　bite　his；　Mr。　Coston's；　head　off。
　Mr。　Coston　said：　〃Huh？〃
　Mr。　Dawson　said：　〃Sure。〃
　Mr。　Coston　called　Mr。　Dawson　a　pie…faced　rubber…necked　four…flusher。
　Mr。　Dawson　called　Mr。　Coston　a　coon。
　And　that　was　where　the　trouble　really　started。
　It　was　secretly　a　great　grief　to　Mr。　Coston　that　his　skin　was　of　so　swarthy　a　hue。　To　be　permitted　to　address　Mr。　Coston　face　to　face　by　his　nickname　was　a　sign　of　the　closest　friendship；　to　which　only　Spider　Reilly；　Jack　Repetto；　and　one　or　two　more　of　the　gang　could　aspire。　Others　spoke　of　him　as　Nigger；　or；　more　briefly；　Nigstrictly　behind　his　back。　For　Mr。　Coston　had　a　wide　reputation　as　a　fighter；　and　his　particular　mode　of　battling　was　to　descend　on　his　antagonist　and　bite　him。　Into　this　action　he　flung　himself　with　the　passionate　abandonment　of　the　artist。　When　he　bit　he　bit。　He　did　not　nibble。
　If　a　friend　had　called　Mr。　Coston　〃Nig〃　he　would　have　been　running　grave　risks。　A　stranger；　and　a　leader　of　a　rival　gang；　who　addressed　him　as　〃coon〃　was　more　than　asking　for　trouble。　He　was　pleading　for　it。
　Great　men　seldom　waste　time。　Mr。　Coston；　leaning　towards　Mr。　Dawson；　promptly　bit　him　on　the　cheek。　Mr。　Dawson　bounded　from　his　seat。　Such　was　the　excitement　of　the　moment　that；　instead　of　drawing　his　〃canister；〃　he　forgot　that　he　had　one　on　his　person；　and；　seizing　a　mug　which　had　held　beer；　bounced　it　vigorously　on　Mr。　Coston's　skull；　which；　being　of　solid　wood；　merely　gave　out　a　resonant　note　and　remained　unbroken。
　So　far　the　honours　were　paratively　even；　with　perhaps　a　slight　balance　in　favour　of　Mr。　Coston。　But　now　occurred　an　incident　which　turned　the　scale；　and　made　war　between　the　gangs　inevitable。　In　the　far　corner　of　the　room；　surrounded　by　a　crowd　of　admiring　friends；　sat　Spider　Reilly；　monarch　of　the　Three　Points。　He　had　noticed　that　there　was　a　slight　disturbance　at　the　other　side　of　the　hall；　but　had　given　it　little　attention　till；　the　dancing　ceasing　suddenly　and　the　floor　emptying　itself　of　its　crowd；　he　had　a　plain　view　of　Mr。　Dawson　and　Mr。　Coston　squaring　up　at　each　other　for　the　second　round。　We　must　assume　that　Mr。　Reilly　was　not　thinking　what　he　did；　for　his　action　was　contrary　to　all　rules　of　gang…etiquette。　In　the　street　it　would　have　been　perfectly　legitimate；　even　praiseworthy；　but　in　a　dance…hall　belonging　t