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CHAPTER III - THE LIZARD.
That night Jimmy attended a show, and treated himself to a lonely dinner
afterward. He should have liked very much to have looked up some of his friends.
A telephone call would have brought invitations to dinner and a pleasant evening
with convivial companions, but he had mapped his course and he was
determined to stick to it to the end.
"There will be plenty of time," he thought, "for amusement after I have gotten a
good grasp of my new duties." Jimmy elected to walk from the theater to his
hotel, and as he was turning the corner from Randolph into La Salle a young man
jostled him. An instant later the stranger was upon his knees, his wrist doubled
suddenly backward and very close to the breaking-point.
"
"
Wot t' hell yuh doin'?" he screamed.
Pardon me," replied Jimmy: "you got your hand in the wrong pocket. I suppose
you meant to put it in your own, but you didn't."
"Aw, g'wan; lemme go," pleaded the stranger. "I didn't get nuthin'-- you ain't got
the goods on me."
Now, such a tableau as Jimmy and his new acquaintance formed cannot be
staged at the corner of Randolph and La Salle beneath an arc light, even at
midnight, without attracting attention. And so it was that before Jimmy realized it
a dozen curious pedestrians were approaching them from different directions,
and a burly blue-coated figure was shouldering his way forward.
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