Part 27 (1/2)

”Oh, quit it, boys,” he protested. ”You fellows do more than this every day of your lives. I'm only a rookie and I know it. I don't want this sort of thing and wish those fool reporters had minded their own business.”

”That's all right, Bobbie,” said Doctor MacFarland, who had dropped in on his routine call, ”you'd better mind your own p's and q's, for you will be a marked man in this neighborhood. It's none too savory at best. You know how these gunmen hate any policeman, and now they've got your photograph and your number they won't lose a minute to use that knowledge. Keep your eyes on all points of the compa.s.s when you go out to-night.”

”I'll try not to go napping, Doc,” answered Burke gratefully. ”You're a good friend of mine, and I appreciate your advice. But I don't expect any more trouble than usual.”

After his patrol duty Burke was scheduled for a period on fixed post.

It was the same location as that on which he had made the acquaintance of Jimmie the Monk and Dutch Annie several months before. As a coincidence, it began to storm, just as it had on that memorable evening, except that instead of the blighting snow blizzards, furious sheets of rain swept the dirty streets, and sent pedestrians under the dripping shelter of vestibules and awnings.

Burke, without the protection of a raincoat, walked back and forth in the small compa.s.s of s.p.a.ce allowed the peg-post watcher, beating his arms together to warm himself against the sickening chill of his dripping clothes.

As he waited he saw a man come out of the corner saloon.

It was no other than Shultberger, the proprietor of the cafe and its cabaret annex. The man wore a raincoat, and a hat pulled down over his eyes. He came to the middle of the crossing and closely scrutinized the young policeman.

”Is dot you, Burke?” he asked gruffly.

”Yes, what do you want of me?”

”Veil, I joost vanted to know dat a good man vos on post to-night, for I expect troubles mit dese gun-men. Dey don't like me, und I t'ought I'd find out who vos here.”

This struck 4434 as curious. He knew that Shultberger was the guardian angel of the neighborhood toughs in time of storm and trouble. Yet he was anxious to do his duty.

”What's the trouble? Are they starting anything?”

The saloon man shook his head as he started back to his cafe.

”Oh, no. But ve all know vot a fighter you vos to-day. De papers is full mit it. Dey've got purty picture of you, too. I joost vos skeered dot dey might pick on me because I vos always running a orderly place, und because I'm de frend of de police. I'll call you if I need you.”

He disappeared in the doorway.

Burke watched him, thinking hard. Perhaps they were planning some deviltry, but he could not divine the purpose of it. At any rate he was armed with his night stick and his trusty revolver. He had a clear s.p.a.ce in which to protect himself, and he was not frightened by ghosts.

So, alert though he was, his mind was not uneasy.

He turned casually, on his heels, to look up the Avenue. He was startled to see two stocky figures within five feet of him. That quick right-about had saved him from an attack, although he did not realize it. The approach of the men had been absolutely noiseless.

The rain beat down in his face, and the men hesitated an instant, as though interrupted in some plan. It did not occur to Burke that they had approached him with a purpose.

He looked at them sharply, by force of habit. Their evil faces showed pallid and grewsome in the flickering light of the arc-lamp on the corner by Shultberger's place.

The two men glared at him shrewdly, and then pa.s.sed on by without a word. They walked half way down the block, and Burke, watching them from the corner of his eye, saw them cross the street and turn into the rear entrance of Shultberger's cabaret restaurant.

”Well, he's having some high-cla.s.s callers to-night,” mused Burke.

”Perhaps he'll need a little help after all.”

Even as he thought this he heard a crash of broken gla.s.s, and he turned abruptly toward the direction of the sound.

The arc-light had gone out.

Burke walked across the street and fumbled with his feet, feeling the broken gla.s.s which had showered down near the base of the pole.