“Yes, I have; but I came to grief over it. You know all about it as well
as I do, for don’t tell me you didn’t hear every word I said that night
you were hunting up Caroline Schimmel. However, I’ll tell you. One day
when I saw a lady who looked rather nervous get out of a cab, I followed
her. I was decently togged out, so I rang at the door. I was so sure
that I was going to make a haul that I would not have taken ninety-nine
francs for the hundred that I expected to make. Well, I rang, a girl
opened the door, and in I went. What an ass I made of myself! I found a
great brute of a man there, who thrashed me within an inch of my life,
and then kicked me downstairs. See, he made his mark rather more plainly
than I liked.” And removing his cap, the boy showed several bruises
about his forehead.
During this conversation Tantaine and the lad had been walking slowly
up the Champs Elysees, and had by this time arrived just opposite M.
Gandelu’s house, where Andre was at work. Tantaine sat down on a bench.
“Let us rest a bit,” said he; “I am tired out; and now let me tell you,
my lad, that your tale only shows me that it is experience you want.
Now, I have any amount of that, and I was really the prime mover in most
of Mascarin’s schemes. If I were to start on my own account, I should
be driving in my carriage in twelve months. The only thing against my
success is my age, for I am getting to be an old man. Why, even now I
have a matter in my hands that is simply splendid. I have had half the
money down, but I want a smart young fellow to pull it through.”
“Why couldn’t I be the smart young fellow?” asked Toto.
Tantaine shook his head. “You are as much too young as I am too old,”
answered he. “At your age you are too apt to be frightened, and would
shrink back at the critical time. Besides, I have a conscience.”
“And so have I,” exclaimed Toto; “and it’s grown like your own, old man;
it can be stretched for miles and folded up into nothing.”
“Well, we may be able to do something,” returned Tantaine, as, drawing
out a ragged check pocket-handkerchief, he wiped his glasses.
“Listen to me, my lad; I’ll put what we call a supposititious case to
you. You hate those two fellows who have robbed you, for I suppose that
is what you meant; well, suppose you knew that they were at work all day
on a high scaffold like that one opposite to us, what would you do?”
Toto scratched his head, and remarked after a pause,--
“If that crack-jawed idea you talk of was true,” answered he, “those gay
lads might as well make their wills, for I’d step up the scaffolding
at night and just saw the planks that they are in the habit of clapping
their toes on, half through, and when one of the mates stepped on it,
why, there would be a bit of a smash, eh, Daddy Tantaine?”
“Not so bad, not so bad for a lad of your years,” said the old man with
an approving smile.
Toto’s bosom swelled with pride.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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