'"Curse you !" he roared, snatching up the poultry carving-knife, and holding it like a dagger.'
King Of Scamps ; Or, The London Detectives.
Anonymous.
Every Week, No. 429. Volume XVII. Circa 1879?
Chapter I.
Introduces Two Scamps.
"Here, waiter !"
"Yessir ! - comin�, sir !"
"Hang you and your comin�, sir ! Of course your comin�, sir ! Why don�t you say �Yes, sir,� and have done with it?"
"Yessir ! - comin�, sir ! - exackly, sir ! Beg pardon, sir ; but did you ring?"
This , in a confused way, from a thin waiter in black which might have been newer, in a cravat that might have been whiter, and who carried over his left arm a napkin that might have been made whiter - a napkin, by the way, with which he had a great deal of difficulty, for it had a peculiar imp-like fashion of suggesting itself to him as a pocket handkerchief ; and as he confronted the two occupants of the room, he half raised it to an inflamed nose, which looked very much like a bad strawberry.
Introductions are very tedious, but they must be gone through, as character after character comes on the stage of this little history ; so let me introduce to you the two occupants of the room that the waiter confronted, the said room being on the second floor of the "Old Hoop Hotel," at Brighton, facing the sea, on a fine morning in August.
The gentleman who spoke was lolling in an easy-chair, beside a well-spread breakfast-table, on which, in addition to a coffee-pot, flanked with fried ham, grilled chicken, and a game pie, stood a claret bottle, and one of those square matting-covered flasks which contain maraschino.
This gentleman was a gorgeous looking being, of rather florid complexion, with a hook nose a good deal like a vulture�s beak ; two very dark eyes, a low forehead, a chin peppered all over with tiny, purply-black spots where it was closely shaven. The rest of his head and face displayed nothing but hair - long, glossy black hair, all parted most carefully ; and brushed from the centre of the forehead to the nape of the neck : and if you continued the line down the centre of his nose, it seemed as if the hair was parted right to his chin, for it was divided right and left at the gloomy eyebrows, then at his moustache, and swept away on to the shoulders in a pair of magnificent Dundreary whiskers.
He was dressed, save that he wore a dressing-gown of a delicate fawn-colour, lined and faced with light quilted blue satin. In his shirt were diamond studs ; two diamonds and a sapphire ring were on his finger, in company with a couple of signet rings, and one of those bloated wedding rings known as a "gipsy." A great cable Albert chain took care of a heavy watch, which the wearer�s great, soft, white, flat-topped fingers pulled out frequently to consult ; and, altogether, the appearance of this gentleman was so gorgeous that you immediately looked at his studs and rings, and generally took stock of him.
"Paste !" you said of his studs and rings. "Aluminum and Abyssinian !" to his watch and chain. "Moses and Son !" to his clothes. Wrong on every point, for the jewelry was of the best quality from Bond Street, and his garments were made by Poole. There was only one sham thing about him, and that you have missed. The sham thing was -
Himself !
Paul John Smith, generally known amongst his pals as "Patent-leather Poll," though at this moment of introducing him to you his feet were in slippers, and he was not wearing the brilliant boots from which he took his name.
I say he was the sham, and I ought to know, for I had  known him since I was a boy of six years old, and I repeat that he was a sham, a fraud, a swindler, a do.
I repeat again I ought to know, for I am a judge from long experience ; moreover, I had been trained in fraud and swindling myself under my master, whose clever pupil I was. And now, briefly, this is the man who was Patent-leather Poll�s companion - "Kid-glove Dick," otherwise Richard Newington - myself.
Picture me then as I was :- twenty-three, fair-haired, rather closely cut ; a tolerably heavy fair moustache ; an ordinary good-looking face, with high forehead ; thin, strong, white hands ; a dark blue tie, knotted sailor fashion, round my neck ; and wearing a brownish-gray dead-leaf coloured suit of tweeds.
I am writing this fairly and honestly, though you may doubt the word of a scamp ; and I have described these two personages accurately, merely having to add that, beside my little deerstalker hat lay the only piece of foppery in which I indulged in those days - namely, a pair of pearl-gray French kid-gloves, the best quality money could procure, and an article of dress which I had in by the dozen, rarely wearing the same pair twice.
Hence, among my pals ; the sobriquet of Kid-glove Dick.
So much for necessary introduction. Now to return to the waiter.
"Now, look here, fellaw," said Poll, who always worked hard in his fashion to show everybody that he was a gentleman ; "I�m shaw your master must be mad to send me up such a wretched fraud of a patty as that. Take it away, and bring another."
"Yessir ; certn�y, sir."
"And don�t come up again without a clean napkin."
"No, sir ; yessir !"
"And don�t say yessir to me again !"
"No, sir ; yes - Ahem - cr - beg pardon, sir !"
The waiter with the inflamed nose hurriedly removed the pie and himself, for Poll had stuck a gold-rimmed glass tightly in one eye, and was staring at him savagely.
"Dimmed impudent fellaw, his master, to send such a pie as that !"
"Better than Pentonville cocoa and toke," I said quietly.
"Curse it all, Dick, what�s come to you ?" cried Poll, dashing down his newspaper. "Why do you keep on talking such dimnition shop?"
"Old shop !" I said, quietly.
"Curse you, Dick, be quiet !" he said, in a low, hissing voice, and dropping all his fine gentleman airs. "I tell you, once for all, if you come anymore of your nonsense, I�ll throw you out of the window and break your neck !"
I felt the blood come into my face as he glared at me, and recalled the days when he used to beat me unmercifully, often tearing off my jacket and shirt, till my back was covered and re-covered with weals, and, probably, till poor Jane interposed to save me, and afterwards hold me to her breast until I sobbed and cried myself to sleep ; but now, instead of trembling under his fierce gaze, I returned it as I calmly took out a cigar, bit off the end, and contemptuously spat it in his face.
"Curse you !" he roared, snatching up the poultry carving-knife, and holding it like a dagger.
"Put that down, stupid !" I said, striking a match, lighting my cigar, and tossing the match at him, so that he had to jump up to avoid its falling in his open shirt front.
"You won�t be happy till I murder you !" he cried.
"Well, perhaps not," I said, lolling back, and sending up the rings of smoke towards the ceiling; "and I don�t know that I should be happy then. You�ve done all you could to prevent it."
"I say, Dick -"
"I say, Dick !" I repeated, imitating the coarse, streety tone in which he now spoke. "Ha, ha, ha ! I thought we were gentlemen staying for pleasure at the �Old Hoop Hotel !� Put down that knife, you black-looking bully ! Here�s the waiter !"
He dropped the knife, and threw himself back in his chair, as the waiter bustled into the room, and with a clean napkin.
"Master�s very sorry, sir. Quite an accident, sir," began the waiter.
"Fitz, dear boy," drawled Poll, taking not the slightest notice, "Pass the claret."
"Give that gentleman the wine, waiter," I said, smiling to myself at Poll�s collapse ; and perhaps with a little vanity at my own power.
"That will do - er - waiter," continued Poll. "tell your master not let �cur again."
"No sir - yessir. I -"
"Will you go ?" cried Poll ; and we were once more alone.
Poll started up in his chair, and listened until the waiter�s step had faded on our ears ; and then, snatching up the knife again, and resuming his bully�s looks and words, he began, �I�ve a great mind -"
To his intense astonishment, I leaped from my seat, seized his wrist, twisted the knife from his hand, sent the weapon flying to the end of the room, and, raising my fist, was about to knock him down, when a thought flashed across my mind, and, with a mocking smile on my lip, I took his prominent nose between my finger and thumb.
"Stop ! for goodness sake, stop, Dick - dear boy - Dick !" he whimpered, turning into so much wax in my hands as he sank back in his chair. "My nose, Dick - my nose ! Don�t disfigure me ! Shan�t be fit to see anybody for a month !"
I loosened him, and went on smoking, for my cigar had not left my lips.
"You cowardly bully !" I said, looking down on him. "Come, confess you are a coward and a bully ."
"N-no, dear boy -"
I made a motion as if to seize him again, and he threw up his hands appealingly.
"Ye -es, dear boy - yes, with you ; but �pon my soul I�m as brave as a lion with anyone else."
"Especially women !" I said with a sneer.
"No, no, dear boy - dear Dick - dear old pal - I mean friend. but you have such a way with you. You�ve grown such a fine, brave, noble fellow, Dick."
"Stow that patter," I said.
"Dick, dear boy," he whispered, in alarm, "recollect we are gentlemen here. Suppose the waiter overheard?"
"Suppose the waiter had come in and found you doing Seven Dials with that bit of steel ?" I said, contemptuously.
"Don�t say bit of steel, Dick ; say knife," he whimpered.
"Knife, then," I said. "And now look here, Poll. I�ll tell you this, if you ever threaten me again, I won�t be answerable for the consequences. I�ll half kill you, and blow upon you afterwards."
"Oh, Dick," he groaned, "you�ll spoil all ! You get excited, and then how you talk ! Don�t say blow !"
"I�m a man now, and not the shivering, trembling boy whose life you made hell upon earth !"
"Hark at him !" whined Poll, holding up his hands. "When I took him up, a little starving child, and fed him, and trained and educated him, and made him the fine handsome young gentleman he is, the envy of his pals - of his friends," he cried, hastily correcting himself, - "a perfect swell, who attracts the looks of every gal - girl - in Brighton - Kid-glove Dick - my boy whom I look upon as a son ! Oh, Dick, Dick, you�re very ungrateful ! See what I�ve made you !"
"Made me !" I cried passionately - "made me loathe my very existence - made me grow up to know myself as a thief, a swindler, a treacherous trickster - a villain of the deepest dye, who cannot stir, cannot sleep by night for the constant dread that the hand of the detective may the next instant be upon my shoulder !"
"Dick, Dick !" he cried imploringly, as I threw myself back in my chair, tearing my cigar in pieces with my teeth ; and now, in his turn, he rose, and stood over me, - "Dick, dear boy, my more than son !"
"Curse you ! Stop that wretched, hypocritical stuff !" I roared, furiously.
"Yes, yes, dear boy ; I won�t say a word more - I won�t indeed !" he whined. "Not a word ; only pray, pray, be careful ! If you go on like this we shall be found out !"
"A good job, too !" I said ; "there is peace in the jug, and one is out of mischief !"
"Hush, Dick !" he whispered imploringly. "Don�t mention that cursed jug ; or, if you do, say cream-jug, and speak of flies. Walls have ears !"
"Specially prison walls !" I said, enjoying his dread, now that my passion was cooling down.
"Oh, Dick, my dear boy, pray, pray - There, I apologize - an apology from one gentleman to another ! I�m very sorry, Dick. I was in a passion ; but I�ll never get in a passion again with you ! There, shake hands, dear boy ! I cave in, Dick. You used to be my pupil, dear boy ; but you�re master now - quite the master !"
"You own that, do you ?"
"Own it, dear boy ? Yes ; of course I do. come now, it�s all right now ; give me your hand."
"Yes, it�s all over," I said, putting my hands in my pockets.
"Shake hands on it," he said again.
"I tell you it�s all over," I said, impatiently.
"Yes ; of course it�s all right. I knew he�d come round," said Poll, "He�s such a noble true-hearted pal - friend."
"Sit down," I said.
"Yes, yes, dear boy," he cried, obeying with alacrity, and then filling a glass  with liquor and handing it to me. "Have a drink, dear boy, and now tell his own chum what�s wrong this morning. What�s stirred up your fur, my chickaleary ? Blow it," he muttered, scratching his chin, "how hard it is to keep those words down."
I did not answer him for a few minutes, but sat gazing through the window at the glittering sea, with the vessels slowly gliding along on the horizon, and at last I said, with a sigh, "Poll, I want to be honest."
"Dick !" he cried, starting up, and catching my arm ; "don�t say that, for goodness� sake ! My own boy, what�s come to you ? Do you want to ruin yourself ?"
There was to my mind something so irresistibly comic in what he said, that in my strange mood I let my head go down on my hand and laughed - laughed a long, saturnine kind of laugh, as I seemed to see as in a mirror the light in which my words appeared to him.
He looked at me wonderingly for a moment or two, and then caught hold of my hand and wrung it.
"�Richard�s himself again !�" he said, joyfully ; and he took out and lit a cigar. "But what a clever one you are, Dick, my boy ! You quite took me in. I thought you meant it. That�s where you carry everything before you, dear boy. You throw your whole soul into it."
"Can�t," I said grimly ; "somebody else has had that for years."
"The devil !" ejaculated Poll ; and as he became alive to the full import of his words, he gave an uneasy glance over his shoulder, following it up with a forced laugh.
"Talk of being honest," he went on, "fact, dear boy, when everything�s in trim. I�ve got it all in a nutshell. Look here. She�s a foreign countess, and I�ll be bound to say her diamonds are worth fifty thou�. My lot here�s worth, with the watch, a good three hundred quid - hang it all ! I mean sovs."
"You�ll condemn yourself out of your own mouth some day, Poll," I said, gaily, for my moral fit was over.
"I shall, Dick - I�m afraid I shall," he cried. "That�s why I give up to you. Always a gentleman - tip-top."
"Well," I said, "what do you propose?"
"Pincher the key ; go in quiet ; grab the lot ; and here�s where I want your opinion - settled mind. Shall we cut at once with the swag, or come the injured - swear my jewels and watch have been taken, and brass it out?"
"That would be the better plan," I said, "because of the wires. Even if we took the first train we should be waited for at London Bridge or Vic."
"Of course," he said, "that�s why I thought of doing the bit of brass - facing it out. The waiter knows my sparklers and turnip by heart."
"But you couldn�t face it out," I said, "I could."
"Yes, of course you could, Dick," he exclaimed.
"But suppose Briggs or Wadman came down? You could do all right with the Borough coppers, but Briggs would read you like a book."
"Right you are Dick !" he said. "How shall we do them ?"
"What�s her number?" I said.
"Twenty-four. Room under yours."
"I�ll work it out," I said, thoughtfully, as I began - as I had a hundred times before - to plan out a big robbery so as to avoid detection.
"And you�ll do it, Dick ? You�ll do it, dear boy ? My ! what a wonderful brain that is of yours. Turn honest ? Why it would be a howling sin !"
"If you don�t stop that rot," I cried, angrily, "I won�t stir a step in the matter."
He gave his mouth a slap with his hand, and was about to help himself to another glass of claret, when the door opened, and the red-nosed waiter said aloud, "A gentleman to see you, sir."
End of Chapter I.