The Hard Boiled Egg by Ellis Parker Butler. Walking close along the wall to
avoid the creaking floorboards, Philo Gubb, paper hanger and student of the Rising
Sun Detective Agencies Correspondence School of Detecting, tiptoed to the door of the bedroom
he shared with the mysterious mister Kritz. In appearance, mister Gubb was tall
and gaunt, reminding one of a modern Don Quixote or a human flamingo.
By nature, mister Gubb was the gentlest and most simple minded of men.
Now, bending his long, angular body almost double, he placed his eye
to a crack in the door panel and stared into the room within just out
of the limited area of mister Gubb's vision, Roscoe Critz paused in his work
and listened carefully. He heard the sharp whistle of mister Gubb's breath as it
cut against the sharp edge of the crack in the panel, and he knew
he was being spied upon. He placed his chubby hands on his knees and
smiled at the door while a red flush of triumph spread over his face.
Through the crack in the door, mister Gubb could see the top of the
washstand beside which mister Critz was sitting, But he could not see mister Critz.
As he stared. However, he saw a plump hand appear and pick
up one by one the articles lying on the washstand. They were first seven
or eight half shells of English walnuts, second a rubber shoe heel out of
which a peace had been cut, Third a small rubber ball no larger than
a pea, fourth a paper bound book, and lastly a large and glittering
brick of yellow gold. As the hand withdrew the golden brick, mister Gubb
pressed his face closer against the door in his effort to see more, And
suddenly the door flew open, and mister Gubb sprawled on his hands and knees
on the worn carpet of the bedroom. Said mister Krits, there now serves
you right. Hope you hurt yourself. Mister Gubb arose slowly like a giraffe
and brushed his knees. Why, he asked, snoopin and sneakin' like that,
said mister Kritz, crossly scarin meata fits almost? How'd I know who
it? Twas? If you want to come in, why don't you come
right? Instead of snoopin and sneakin an fallin In that way, as he
talked, mister Chrits replaced the shells and the rubber heel, and the rubber
pea and the gold brick on the washstand. He was a plump little man
with a shiny bald head and a white goatee. As he talked, he
bent his head down so that he might look above the glasses of his spectacles,
and in spite of his pretended anger, he looked like nothing so much
as a kindly, benevolent old gentleman, the sort of old gentleman that keeps
a small store in a small village and sells writing paper that smells of soap
and candy sticks out of a glass jawn with a glass cover. How'd I
know but what you was? A detective, he asked in a gentler tone.
I am, said mister Gubb, soberly, seating himself on one of
the two beds. I'm pretty near a detecative, as you might say,
digging it all, said mister Kritz. Now I got to go hunt another
room. I can't room with no detective. Well, now, mister Kritz,
said mister Gubb, I don't want you should feel that way know when
you're a detective makes me all nervous, complained mister Kritz. And a man
in my business has to have a steady hand, don't he. You ain't
told me what your business is, said mister Gubb. You needn't pretend you
don't know, said mister Kritz. Any detective that saw that stuff on the
washstand would know. Well, of course, said mister Gubb. I ain't
a full detecative yet. You can't look for me to guess things as quick
as a full detecative would. Of course, that brick sort of looks like
a gold brick. It is a gold brick, said mister Kritz. Yes,
said mister Gubb. But I don't mean no offense, mister Kritz.
From the way you look, I sort of thought, well that it was
a gold brick you'd bought. Mister Kritz turned very red. Well, what
if I did buy it? He said? That ain't any reason I can't
sell it. Is it just because a man buys eggs once or twice?
Ain't any reason he shouldn't go into the business of egg selling. Is it
just because I've bought one or two gold bricks in my day. Ain't any
reason I shouldn't go to selling them, is it. Mister Gubb stared at
mister Kritz with unconcealed surprise. You ain't. You ain't a con man,
are you, mister Kritz? He asked. If I ain't yet, that's
no sign I ain't gonna be, said mister Kritz firmly. One man has
as good a right to try his hand at it as another, especially when
a man has had my experience in it. Mister Gubb, there ain't hardly
a con game. I ain't been conned with. I've been confidenced long enough.
From now on, I'm going to confidence other folks. That's what I'm
going to do. And I won't be bothered by no detective living in the
same room with me. Detectives and con men don't mix nowadays, no,
sir, Well sir, said mister Gubb. I can see the sense in
that, but you don't need to move right away. I don't aim to
start detectin in earnest for a couple of months yet. I got a couple
of jobs of paper hanging and decoratin' to finish up, and I can't start
in sleuthing until I get my star anyway. And I don't get my star
until I get one more lesson and learn it and send in the examination paper
and five dollars extra for the diploma. Then I'm going at it as a
regular business. It's a good business. Every day there's more crooks. Excuse
me. I didn't mean to say that, That's all right, said mister
Chritz. Kindly call a spade a spade. If I ain't a crook yet,
I hope to be soon. I I didn't know how you'd feel about
it, explained mister Gubb. Tactfulness is strongly advised into the lessons of the
Rising Sun Detecative Agency Correspondence School of Detecating. Slocum Ohio asked mister Critz quickly.
You didn't see the ad in the Hearthstone and Farmside, did you,
Yes, slocum Ohio, said mister Gubb. And that is the paper I
saw the ad into a big money in detecating. Be a sleuth. We
can make you the equal of Sherlock Holmes in twelve lessons. Why well,
sir, said mister Critz. That's that's funny. That ad was right atop
of the one I saw, and I studied quite considerable before I could make
up my mind whether twould be best for me to be a detective and go
out and get square with the fellers that sold me gold bricks and things by
putting them in jail, or to even things up by sending for this book
that was advertised right under the Rising Sun correspond school. How come I settled
to do as I done was that I had a sort of stock to start
with, with a first class gold brick and some green goods i'd bought.
And this book only cost a quarter of a dollar, and she's a hummer
for a quarter of a dollar a hummer. He pulled the paper covered book
from his pocket and handed it to mister Gubb. The title of the book
was The Complete con Man by the King of the Grafters, price twenty five
cents. That there book, said mister Kritz, proudly, as if he
himself had written. It tells everything a man needs to know to work every
con game there is. Once I get it by hard, I won't be
afraid to try any of them. Of Course, I got to start small.
I can't hope to pull off a wire tapping game right at the start,
because that has to have a gang. You don't know anybody you could
recommend for a gang, do you not? Right off hand, said mister
Gubb thoughtfully. If you wasn't going into the detective business, said mister Kritz,
you'd be just a feller for me. You look sort of honest and
not as if you was too bright, and that counts a lot even in
this here, simple little shell game. I got to have a partner.
I got to have a partner I can trust, so I can let him
look like he was winning money off of me. You see, he explained,
moving to the washstand. This shell game is easy enough when you know
how. I put three shells down like this on a stand, and I
put the little rubber pea on the stand, and then I take up the
three shells like this, two in one hand and one in the other,
and I wave him around over the p and maybe push the pe around a
little, and I say, come on, come on, the hand is
quicker than the eye. And all of a sudden, I put the shells
down. And you think the P is under one of them like that.
I don't think the P is under one of them, said mister Gubb.
I've seen it roll onto the floor. It did roll onto the floor at
that time, said mister Critz upontologetically. It most generally does for me.
Yet I ain't got it down to perfection yet. This is the way it
ought to work. Oh pshaw. There she goes on to the floor again,
went under the bed that time. Here she is now the way she
ought to work is there she goes again. You got to practice that game
a lot before you try it on folks in public, mister Kritz, said
mister Gubb. Seriously, don't I know that, said mister Kritz, rather
impatiently, Same as you've got to practice snoop And mister Gubb, maybe you
thought I didn't know you was snoopin after me wherever I went last night?
Did you? Asked mister Gubb, with surprise plainly written on his face.
I've seen you every moment from nine p m. Till eleven, said mister
Kritz. I didn't like it neither. I I didn't think to annoy you,
apologized mister Gubb. I was practicin lesson four. You wasn't supposed to
know I was there at all. Well, I don't like it, said
mister Kritz. Twas all right last night for I didn't have nothing importint on
hand. But if i'd been workin up a con game, the feller I
was after would have thought it mighty strange to see a man followin me everywhere
like that. If you went about it quiet and obtrusive, I wouldn't mind.
But if I'd had a customer on hand and he'd seen you, it
would make him nervous. He'd think there was a a crazy man followin us.
I I was just practicin, apologized mister Gubb. It won't be so
bad when I get the hang of it. We all got to be beginners
sometime, I guess, so, said mister Critz, rearranging the shells and
the little rubber pea. Well, I put the pea down like this,
and I dare you to bet which shell she's going to be under. And
you don't bet, see, So I put the shells down and you're willing
to bet you see me put the first shell over the pea like this,
so you keep your eye on that shell, and I move the shells around
like this. She's under the same shell, said mister Gubb. Well,
yes she is, said mister Critz placidly. But she hadn't ought to be
by rights, she ought to sort of ooze out from under whilst I'm moving
the shells around, and i'd ought to catch her in between my fingers and
hold her there so you don't see her. Then when you say which shell
she's under, she ain't under any shell. She's between my fingers. So
when you put down your money, i'd tell you to pick up that shell,
and there ain't anything under it. And before you can pick up the
other shells, I pick one up and let the pee fall on the stand
like it had been under that shell all the time. That's the game,
only up to now I ain't got the hang of it. She won't ooze
out from under, and she won't stick between my fingers, and when she
does stick, she won't drop at the right time. Except for that,
you've got her all right, have you, asked mister Gubb. Except for
that, said mister Kriz. And i'd have that only my fingers are stubby.
What was it you've thought of having me do if I wasn't a detecative,
asked mister Gubb. The work you'd have to do would be capping work,
said mister Kritz Capper. That's the professional name for it, you'd guess
which shell the ball was under. That would be easy the way you do
it now, said mister Gubb. I told you I got to learn it
better, didn't I asked mister Critz, impatiently. You'd be capper and you'd
guess which shell the pea was under. No matter which you guessed, I'd
leave it under that one, so you'd win, and you'd win ten dollars
every time you bet, but not for keeps. That's why I've got to
have an honest capper. I can see that, said mister Gubb. But
what's the use in letting me win it? If I've got to bring it
back? That starts the boob's betting, said mister Kritz. The boobs see
how you look to be winnin, and they want to win too, but
they don't when they bet I win. That ain't as square game, said
mister Gubb. Seriously, is it? A crook ain't expected to be square,
said mister Kritz. It stands to reason if a crook wants to be
a crook, he's got to be crooked, ain't he. Yes, of
course, said mister Gubb. I hadn't looked at it that way. As
far as I can see, said mister Kritz. The more I know how
a detective acts, the better off I'll be when I start in doing real
business, Ain't that so? I guess till I get the hang of things
better, I'll stay right here. I'm glad to hear you say so,
mister Kritz, said mister Gubb with relief. I like you, and I
like your looks, and there's no telling who I might get for a roommate
next time. I might get someone that wasn't honest. So it was agreed,
and mister Kritz stood over the washstand and manipulated the little rubber p in
the three shells, while mister Gubb sat on the edge of the bed and
studied less than eleven of the Rising Sun Detective Agency's Correspondence School of Detecting.
When presently mister Kritz learned to work the little pea neatly, he urged mister
Gubb to take the part of the capper, and each time mister Gubb won,
he gave him a five dollar bill. Then mister Gubb posed as a
boob and mister Critz won all the money back, again, beaming over his
spectacle rims and chuckling again and again, until he burst into a fit of
coughing that made him red in the face, and did not cease until he
had taken a big drink of water out of the wash pitcher. Never had
he seemed more like a kindly old gentleman from behind the candy counter of a
small village. He hung over the washstand, manipulating the little rubber pea as
if fascinated. Ain't it curious how a feller catches on to a thing like
that all to once? He said after a while. If it hadn't been
that I was so anxious, I might have fooled with that for weeks and
weeks and not got anywhere with it. I do wish you could be my
capper a while anyway, until I could get one. I need all my
time to study, said mister Gubb. It ain't easy to learn de ticketing
by mail. Pshah, now, said mister Kritz. I'm real sorry.
Maybe if I was to pay you for your time in trouble, five dollars
a night, I'll say. Mister Gubb consentered. Well, I dunno,
he said slowly. I sort of hate to take money for doin a favor
like that. Now, There ain't no need to feel that way, said
mister Kritz. Your time's worth somethin to me. It's worth a lot to
me to get the hang of this gold brick game. Once I get the
hang of it, it won't be no trouble for me to sell gold bricks
like this one for all the way from a thousand dollars up. I paid
fifteen hundred for this one myself and got it cheap. That's a good profit
for this brick ain't worth a cent over one hundred dollars. And I know
for I took it to the bank after I bought it, and that's what
they was willing to pay me for it. So it's easy with a few
dollars for me to have help whilst I'm learning. I can easily afford to
pay you a few dollars and to pay a friend of yours the same.
Well, now, said mister Gubb. I don't know, but what I
might as well make a little that way as any other I got a friend.
He stopped short. You don't aim to sell the gold brick to him,
do you. Mister Kritz's eyes opened wide behind their spectacles. Land's sake,
No, he said. Well, I got a friend may be willing
to help out, said mister Gubb. What do you have to do?
You were him, said mister Kritz, would be the come on and pretend
to buy the brick, and you were him, would pretend to help me
to sell it. Maybe you better have the brick because you can look stupid,
and the feller that's got the brick has got to look that. I
can look anyway, almost, said mister Gubb, with pride. Do tell,
said mister Kritz, And so it was arranged that the first rehearse of
the gold brick game should take place the next evening. But as mister Gubb
turned away, mister Kritz deftly slipped something into the student detective's coat pocket.
It was toward noon the next day that mister Kritz, peering over his spectacles
and avoiding as best he could the pails of paste, entered the parlor of
the vacant house where mister Gubb was at work. I just come around,
said mister Critz, rather reluctantly, to say, you better not say nothing
to your friend. I guess that deals off pshaw. Now, said mister
Gubb. You don't mean so I don't mean nothing in the way of aspersions
you mind, said mister Kritz with reluctance. But I guess we'd better call
it off. Of course, so far as I know you're all right,
I don't know what you're getting at, said mister Gubb. Why why don't
you say it? Well, I've been buncoed so often, said mister Kritz.
Seems like anyone can get money from me anytime, in any way.
And I got to thinking it over. I don't know anything about you,
do I. And here I am going to give you a gold brick that
cost me fifteen hundred dollars and let you go out and wait until I come
for it with your friend. And well, what's to stop you from just
going away with that brick and never coming back. Mister Gubb looked at mister
Critz blankly. I've went and told my friend. He said, he's all
ready to start in. I hate it to have to say it, said
mister Kritz. But when I come to count over them bills I lent you
to cap the shell game with. There was a five dollar one short,
I know, said Gubb, turning red. And if you go over there
to my coat you'll find it in my pocket all ready to hand back to
you. I don't know how I come to keep it in my pocket.
Must have missed it when I handed you back the rest. Well, I
had a notion it was that way, said mister Critz. Kindly, you
look like you was honest, mister Gubb, But a thousand dollar gold brick
at any bank we'll pay one hundred dollars for. I got to get out
of this way of trust in everybody. Mister Kritz was evidently distressed. If
twas anybody else but you, he said, with an effort, I'd make
him put up one hundred dollars to cover the cost of a brick like that
whilst he had it there. I've said it, and I guess you're mad.
I ain't mad, protested mister Gubb. Long as you're gonna pay me
in pete and it's business, I ain't so set against putting up what the
brick is worth. Mister Kritz heaved a deep sigh of relief. You don't
know how good that makes me feel, he said. I was almost losing
what faith in mankind I had left. Mister Gubb bade his frugal evening meals
at the Pie Wagon on Willow Street, just off Maine, where by day
pie Wagon Pete dispensed light viands, and Pie Wagon Pete was the friend he
had invited to share mister Kritz's generosity. The seal of secrecy had been put
on Pie Wagon Pete's lips before mister Gubb offered him the opportunity to accept or
decline, And when mister Gubb stopped for his evening meal, pie Wagon Pete,
now off duty, was waiting for him. The story of mister Critz
and his amateur con business had amused Pie Wagon Pete. He could hardly believe
such utter innocence existed. Perhaps he did not believe it existed, for he
had come from the city, and he had had shady companions before he landed
in Riverbank. He was a sharp eyed, red headed fellow with a hard
fist and a scar across his face. And when mister Gubb had told him
of mister Critz and his affairs, he had seen an opportunity to shear a
country lamb. How goes it for to night Philo, he asked mister Gubb,
taking the stool next to mister Gubb while the night man drew a cup
of coffee. Quite well, said mister Gubb. Everything is arranged satisfactory.
I'm to be on the old houseboat by the warf House on the levee at
nine with it. He glanced at the nightman's back and lowered his voice.
And mister Kritz will bring you there nine, eh, said pie Wagon.
I meet him at your room, do I? You meet him at the
Riverbank Hotel at eight forty five, said mister Gubb, like it was the
real thing. I'm going over to my room now and give him the money.
What money, asked pie Wagon. Pete quickly. Well, you see,
said mister Gubb. He sort of hated to trust the trust it out
of his hands without a deposit. It's the only one he has, so
I thought i'd put up one hundred dollars. He's all right, Oh sure,
said pie Wagon. A hundred dollars eh. He looked at mister Gubb,
who was eating a piece of apple pie hand to mouth fashion, and
studied him in a new light. One hundred dollars, eh, he repeated
thoughtfully. You give him a hundred dollar deposit now, and he eats you
at nine and me at eight forty five. And the train leaves for Chicago
at eight forty three, half way between the houseboat and the hotel, Say
Gubby, what does this old guy look like? Mister Gubb, albeit with
a tongue unused to description, delineated mister Kritz as best he could, and
as he proceeded, pie Wagon Pete became interested, pinkish, and bawled top
of his head like a hard boiled egg. He ain't got a scar across
his face, the dickens he has short and plump and a regular old nice
grandpa blue eyes, say did he have a coffin spell and choke red in
the face. Well, sir, for a brand new detective, you've done
well. Listen, Jim, Gubby's got the hard boiled egg. The nightman
almost dropped his cup of coffee. Go away, he said, old heart
boiled himself, that's right, and caught him with the goods. Say listen,
Gubby. For five minutes, pie Wagon Pete talked while mister Gubb sat
with his mouth wide open, see said Pye Wagon Pete. At last,
And don't you mention me at all. Don't mention no one, just say
to the chief, And havn't trailed him? This far mister Whittaker, and
arranged to have him took with the goods. It's up to you, see,
and as soon as you say that, have him send a couple of
bulls with you. And if they can do it, they'll nab old hard
boiled, just as he takes your cash, and old Sleuth and Sherlock Holmes
won't be in it with you when tomorrow mornin's papers come out. Get it,
mister Gubb got it. When he entered his bedroom, mister Kritz was
waiting for him. It was slightly after eight o'clock, perhaps eight fifteen.
Mister Kritz had what appeared to be the gold brick neatly wrapped in newspaper,
and he looked up with his kindly blue eyes. He had been reading the
Complete con Man and had pushed his spectacles up on his forehead as mister Gubb
entered. I'd done that brick up for you, he said, indicating it
with his hand, so's it wouldn't glitter whilst you was goin through the street.
If word got passed round there was a gold brick in town, folks
might sort of get suspicious, like nice night for goin out, ain't it?
Got a letter from my wife this afternoon, he chuckled. She says,
she hopes I'm doin well. Sally'd have a fit if she knew what
business I was goin into. Well. Time's getting along. I brung the
money, said mister Gubb, drawing it from his pocket. Don't seem hardly
necessary, does it, said mister Chritz mildly. But I suppose it's just
as well, thank'e, mister Gubb. I'll just pile it into my coat.
Mister Gubb had picked up the gold brick, and now he let it
fall once more. The door flew open, but this time it opened for
three stalwart policemen, whose revolvers pointed unwaveringly at missus. Mister Kritz, the
plump little man, gave one glance and put up his hands. All right,
boys, you've got me, he said, in quite another voice,
and allowed them to seize his arms. He paid no attention to the police,
but at mister Gubb, who was tearing the wrapper from what proved to
be but a common vitrified paving brick. He looked long and hard, say,
said mister Critz to mister Gubb, I'm the goat you've stung me.
All right, you worked me to a finish. I thought I knew all
of you from Burns down, but you're a new one to me. Who
are you anyway? Mister Gubb looked up me, he said with pride.
Why Why I'm Gubb. The foremost detecative of Riverbank, Iowa, and of
the hard Boiled Egg by Ellis Parker Butler