Crooks Go Straight

CHAPTER III. THE NEW WAY OPENS

ON the following morning, a taxicab pulled up in front of a secluded Manhattan residence. The building was a large brownstone mansion, a heritage of the later years of the last century. Yet its well-kept front gave it a modern appearance.

Two men alighted from the cab: Steve Zurk and Jack Targon. Carrying suitcases, they ascended the brownstone steps and rang the doorbell. They were admitted by a dry-faced servant, who nodded as he heard their names.

The menial took the bags and laid them aside. With a bow, he motioned toward a flight of broad marble stairs.

The pardoned men went up the steps, treading upon thick carpeting. They looked about as they went; at the top they stared at each other in partial bewilderment.

Perry Delhugh’s home was a place of magnificence. Marble statuary vied with rich velvet drapings. The walls were covered with thick tapestries. The rugs underfoot were of marvelous Oriental design. The former convicts had stepped into a scene of wealth.

Pausing at the top, Zurk and Targon waited for the approach of a frail, stoop-shouldered young man who was coming to meet them. The new arrival stopped in the hallway and surveyed the ex-convicts through a pair of tortoise shell spectacles.

“Good morning,” he greeted, in a weak-toned voice. “Which is Mr. Zurk; and which is Mr. Targon?”

Steve and Jack introduced themselves. The young man shook hands with each, wincing slightly at the powerful grips of the visitors.

“My name is Benzig,” he informed. “I am Mr. Delhugh’s secretary. If you will come this way, gentlemen, I shall take you to his study. He will meet you there.”

Benzig led the way along a hall. They passed the door of a room that looked like an office, in which the walls were lined with huge filing cabinets. They passed through a small, thick-carpeted anteroom; then came into Delhugh’s study.

This room was furnished in quiet but expensive taste. A huge mahogany desk occupied the center; the chairs were of the same wood. Marble statuettes and jade vases stood upon tables about the room. The door of a wall safe showed beyond the desk.

The walls themselves were paneled with thick tapestry material set in mahogany framework.

Impressed by this setting of affluence, Steve and Jack looked about from spot to spot. When they turned to stare at Benzig, the bespectacled secretary had gone.

“Whew!” uttered Jack Targon. “What a place! There’s been money spent here, Steve.”

“Yeah,” growled Steve Zurk, “and I’ll bet that Delhugh is a worn-out old guy who can’t appreciate it.”

“Probably a dyspeptic.”

“What’s that?”

“A guy who lives on pills.”

“And forks over dough to croakers.”

“Probably. When the medicos find a rich bird that’s sick, they help him get rid of his cash.”

“Well, if old Delhugh is as weary-looking at his secretary, I’ll—”

Steve broke off. The door of the anteroom was opening. Jack turned about as he saw Steve stare toward the entrance.

Both men were surprised at sight of the person who entered. They knew that he must be Perry Delhugh; but he was entirely different from the man that they had pictured.

PERRY DELHUGH was under fifty. Well built, of middle height, he showed no signs of the portliness that so frequently comes to a man of leisure. Though heavy, he was muscular, not stout.

His face was square. His expression was dynamic. His black hair, slightly thinned, bore only slight streaks of gray. There was a firmness in Delhugh’s gaze as he studied the men before him.

Jack Targon’s smile sobered as his eyes met Delhugh’s. Steve Zurk, half slouching, straightened up; then shifted uneasily as he came under keen inspection. Both of the ex-convicts knew that they had met a man who could command them.

“Targon?” Delhugh spoke the name as he looked at Jack.

“Yes,” responded Jack, with a nod.

Delhugh shook hands with crushing grasp. He turned to Steve; called him by name; then gave another powerful clasp. He waved the two men to chairs, then went behind his desk. There he noted the door of the wall safe, showing through the paneling.

Indifferently, Delhugh pressed a panel and a covering front slid over the safe door. Then Delhugh took his place behind the desk, pulled a box of cigars from the drawer and laid the perfectos where his visitors could help themselves.

Both Steve and Jack were impressed as they took cigars and lighted them. They knew that Delhugh had expected their visit, yet he had left the front of his safe visible, where they might take note of its existence.

A small touch, but one that indicated that Delhugh trusted them.

Settling back in their chairs, the pardoned criminals waited for the philanthropist to speak.

“Gentlemen,” stated Delhugh, in a deliberate fashion, “your futures have been entrusted to me. Some time ago, the governor of the state wherein you were imprisoned decided to pardon you. He wanted to give you a fresh start in the world. An excellent purpose; one, however, that offered hazard.”

The pardoned convicts shifted a bit. Jack Targon managed a smile; Steve Zurk remained solemn, with a countenance that had become a poker face.

“Some men,” resumed Delhugh, “are criminals by nature. Others are criminals only by environment. The governor believes that you are of the latter class. I am inclined to accept his opinion.”

Jack’s smile became less forced. Steve settled back in his chair, but retained his solemnity.

“I have gained wealth,” declared Delhugh. “Enough to permit my retirement from business at a comparatively early age. I have occupied my time — since retirement — with philanthropic pursuits. My contributions to worthy causes have been considerable. But I have done more than merely give away money.

“I have identified myself with various organizations that deal in welfare. I have kept records of those activities; I have managed committees and I have solicited huge sums from wealthy persons, for charitable purposes.

“In brief, my work has carried a personal angle. That is why I became interested when I learned that the governor intended to pardon you two men.”

A KINDLY smile changed the inflexibility of Delhugh’s countenance. The wealthy man reached into a desk drawer and produced a stack of papers that he separated into two sheaves.

“Here are facts concerning each of you,” he declared. “I looked into your pasts. Not so that I could check upon you but in order that I might understand you. The records show that you have been victims of circumstance.

“I have learned more about you than either of you can realize. You, Zurk, are a man with a real business sense. One who can judge values. You showed that” — Delhugh’s smile ended — “by your choice of banks that you robbed.”

While Steve remained solemn. Delhugh produced an envelope and pushed it across the desk. He indicated that Steve should take it. Steve did so.

“There is a start for you,” stated Delhugh. “A bank account of one thousand dollars — a loan to be repaid within one year. A letter to the manager of the Sourlain Hotel, arranging for your credit there.

“Also a personal letter to Joseph Daylin, head of the Daylin Importing Company. I have talked with Daylin. He has a job for you in his importing house. It will mean advancement.”

Steve, a bit bewildered, nodded thanks. Delhugh smiled; then turned to Jack. He produced a second envelope.

“The same amount for you, Targon,” he declared. “You will live at the Hotel Cliquot. Your letter of business recommendation is to Galen Flix, president of the New Century Advertising Agency. You are a man who must have sales ability. This will be your opportunity to prove it.”

“This is great of you, Mr. Delhugh,” said Jack, taking the envelope. “I’m out to make good; and I can say the same for Steve—”

“It is unnecessary,” interposed Delhugh. “I have taken that fact for granted. I have merely arranged to further your opportunities. There is only one proviso that I require.”

“What is that?” asked Jack.

“I expect frequent reports from each of you,” stated Delhugh. “These will be confidential interviews that will prove of benefit. You have been pardoned; hence there is no element of parole in my request.

“I merely wish to see how the experiment is progressing. I want to know if either of you encounters difficulties or pitfalls. I shall be ready — with money as well as friendship — if either of you should require assistance.”

“That’s swell!” began Jack. “Say, Mr. Delhugh—”

“I have not finished.” Delhugh’s steady interruption stopped Jack short. “These visits that I have mentioned must be frequent at first. I would suggest that they be on alternate nights to begin with. Zurk can come here Monday, Wednesday and Friday; Targon — Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Around dinner time, so that brief chats will not disturb your evening plans.”

“You want us to come separately?” questioned Jack, a bit surprised.

“Absolutely,” affirmed Delhugh. Then, seriously: “You are to follow separate courses. Forget the forced friendship that brought you together. Become new men; then meet again on a fresh basis.”

“To-day is Monday.” This statement came from Steve. “You want me to come here tonight, Mr. Delhugh?”

“No,” replied the philanthropist. “That will be unnecessary. I shall begin with Targon’s visit, to-morrow evening. Your visits, Zurk, will commence with Wednesday.”

“Very well, sir,” agreed Steve.

He arose solemnly and extended his hand to Jack Targon. The younger pal received the unexpected clasp.

“So long, old-timer,” commented Steve. “Mr. Delhugh has served it to us straight. We’re splitting; and when we get together again we’ll have something to talk about instead of the big house.”

“Commendable, Zurk,” declared Delhugh from behind his desk. “You have accepted my plan in excellent fashion. That is the way to begin. Follow through in the same manner.”

DELHUGH was pressing a desk button as he spoke. Benzig appeared from the anteroom. Delhugh stepped from behind his desk and shook hands with Steve Zurk. Then he turned to the secretary.

“Call a cab for Mr. Zurk,” ordered Delhugh. “Then summon one for Mr. Targon.”

Steve followed the secretary as he departed. Delhugh turned and shook hands with Jack. The young man grinned.

“You’re right about Steve,” he declared. “He knows his business. He grabbed the idea while I was still muffing it. But I’m not quite so dumb as I acted. I’ve got it now. It’s a swell plan for both of us.”

“The only plan, Targon,” returned Delhugh, quietly. “You will find that new associations are necessary to your success. I have convinced Zurk that I can influence his future. I hope that I have convinced you in the same manner.”

“You have,” stated Jack. “You and Steve. The way he took it helped.”

Delhugh was smiling as he picked up the stacks of papers from the desk. Jack noted scrawled letters among Steve’s documents. In his own pile, he observed slips of paper that looked very much like bad checks that he had passed, years before.

The young man smiled sheepishly at sight of this evidence of abandoned crime. Delhugh did not notice the expression. He was putting the papers back into the drawer. Jack Targon turned his eyes away as Delhugh stepped from behind the desk. Then Benzig arrived to announce that Targon’s cab was at the door.

Delhugh clapped a friendly hand upon Jack’s shoulder. The young man grinned, no longer sheepish.

Then, strolling after Benzig, he went from Delhugh’s study, faring forth, like Steve, upon a new career.

Perry Delhugh resumed his seat behind his desk. His square face wore a meditative smile as he recalled his observations of these men to whom he had given aid. They had been as he had expected them to be, fitting perfectly to the descriptions that he had gained of them.

Delhugh’s smile remained as the philanthropist lighted a fresh cigar. In all his work of welfare, this keen, dynamic man had never before encountered cases that afforded such unusual contrast and such rich promise of future results.