“To hell with that tale,” the fingers declaimed. “I may be blind, but I can hear and I can feel. Didn’t I hear and feel you and Dummy picking them pearls up off the floor when the string broke just before the blow-off. What chance had I to find any? And you try to tell me Dummy got ’em all. Tell that to any old con and see if he’ll believe you. You crossed me — the pair of you — that’s what you did, Deafy. I didn’t expect much different from Dummy. He’s a gaycat, anyway, but you — why didn’t I forgive you when you put my lamps out getting funny with that soup. I forgave you that because you was a pal and because you lost your hearing at the same time. And now you cross a blind man.”
They kept it up for two or three minutes more, but there was too much at stake for Porter to risk observance by the alert deaf man, and he lost himself in the crowd until they should finish. Over his shoulder he read the blind man’s parting shot.
“Don’t forget it, neither,” the fingers spelled. “You have Dummy here tomorrow or I’ll snitch on you as sure—”
The fingers were still working as the deaf man darted away unseen and Porter turned in his tracks to follow.
He knew where the blind man lived and did not need to worry about him. Blind men usually travel neither far nor fast. So he trailed the deaf man to a small hotel half-way uptown and watched long enough to make sure he lived there before he returned to his neglected clinic and a pipe to aid him in piecing together his new information.
Two old crooks, eh, he ruminated, when his work was done. Two old pals injured in a premature explosion while cracking a safe. Remarkable, most remarkable! And the dumb man — who is he? Where does he enter the combination? It was quite a while before the answer occurred to him, and when it did he almost chuckled at the picture presented.
“Ideal,” he muttered aloud. “Ideal. An ideal combination among men so vicious they cannot even trust each other. One man can’t see, another can’t hear and the third can’t speak. No one of them competent to act alone. The combination is ideal, but I wonder how the dumb man talks to the blind man,” and puzzling over this he cast a queer glance at one of his bronzes and went to bed to wait for the promised meeting on the morrow.
It was a long, dreary wait as he paced back and forth about the blind man’s post, first on one side of the street and then on the other, but finally he made out the tall form of the deaf crook crossing the street in the same careless fashion as before, to the evident distress of a slighter, shorter man, who tugged at his arm in efforts to transmit the warnings of traffic peril. The watching physician had identified Dummy even before he was close enough to show that his right-hand coat pocket was missing.
Deafy and Dummy halted before Goggles, and again the pretense of searching pockets for coins was gone through with. Apparently there was some brief word from the taller of the pair, because the blind man stiffened in anger and began to speak rapidly. Deafy lingered for a moment and then, with an impatient toss of his head, stepped away from a conversation he could not hear and glared suspiciously at the pair from a position on the curb.
It was dangerous for Porter to attempt to overhear what the blind man was saying. Anyway, he knew from the conversation of the day before just about what it would be, but curiosity held him for a minute’s risk. He wanted to see how the dumb man would reply. The finger code would be useless before sightless eyes, and he was sure the man really could not speak.
The passers-by undoubtedly noticed nothing unusual, but the expert in human disabilities saw it in a glance and scolded himself for having even puzzled over the method. It was no miracle, but most unusual, except among those long in intimate association. It was remarkable, because these men were apparently comparative strangers.
Dummy merely placed his hand over that of Goggles, who held it out for him, and pressed, tapped and squeezed in the code such as is used by Miss Helen Keller and her mentor. The physician understood at once, but was amazed at what he saw. How could these two men become adept at this intricate system with but apparently a very short opportunity for practice? Undoubtedly, the usual method of communication among the trio was by words from the deaf man to either the blind or the dumb, by words from the blind man to the dumb man and by fingers from the blind man to the deaf man, by fingers from the dumb man to the deaf man and through him to the blind man by words. Their whole association seemed built up on the necessity of the three being together when they conferred with any ease, and hence he wondered at this apparent proficiency in an unusual code.
At length, while he waited at a safe distance for the conversation to end, he recalled something in his experience which solved the problem. These men were, undoubtedly, all ex-convicts. Among the long-term men in some prisons, he remembered, this very system had been developed among some of the most desperate as a means of secret communication where speech was forbidden and the finger code would have been instantly detected. Along the eating tables, in the workshops, or in the marching lines of prisoners a hand could grasp a hand and a brief message be exchanged among the initiated. He had heard vaguely that “outside” there was a regular school where the system was taught those who feared that some day they might have need for it, either to send or receive a message. He understood.
It was a dangerous place for a lengthy conversation between two men such as these, even under the best of circumstances, but the anger in the hearts of these two made it doubly dangerous. The deaf man watched uneasily and hovered near with one eye on his quarreling companions, and the other searching the crowd for detectives. Porter saw the dumb man throw the other’s hand from him with a violent gesture, and, as the blind man raised his cane to strike, the deaf man darted forward, caught Dummy by the arm and whirled him away in the crowd with a low-voiced curse at the man in goggles.
Porter followed the pair and made sure of locating the lair of the third of his despoilers. It was in a hotel of shabby appearance and unsavory reputation far uptown that the dumb man lived. A few hours of cautious inquiries and guarded listening served to reveal something of his character. Dummy, he found, was also a professional beggar — at times, at least. He was one of those furtive individuals who seeks alms with printed cards, or with pad and pencil. Usually he pretended to be deaf as well as dumb, but his hearing was most acute when his own character was under discussion, and his vengeful, vicious nature showed itself strongly, especially when he was in his cups, which was as often as possible. At such times he turned upon gossipers with strange, guttural noises and cries, which showed that he had well-developed vocal cords, even if they were out of control.
Dr. Porter had found his pearl thieves. But that was not the object of his quest. He wanted his pearls.
His next step had already been mapped out. The rape of his wife’s necklace had hurt him far more than the threatened monetary loss. He could buy other pearls without reckoning the cost, but money would not replace these particular pearls. The mere turning over of these men to the police and seeing them sent to prison would not satisfy him. Therefore, he did not seek the police and trust to arrests and third-degree methods. Instead, he called a taxi and drove to the office of young Dr. Henry B. Robertson, who had been one of his assistants until he had hung out his own shingle a few months before and was still his devoted slave.
To Robertson, Porter quickly outlined the story. Upon two prescription blanks he wrote two names, addresses and descriptions.
“Harry,” he said, “one of these men is deaf and the other dumb. Both of them are dangerous criminals, suspicious of everyone and remarkably cunning. I must have each one of them in my hands, alone, as speedily as possible. I am trusting to your wits. You must manage in some way to become acquainted with these men, introduce yourself as the specialist you are and then call me in. Don’t use my name, of course. If properly approached both of these men would jump at a chance to be cured. Promise them you can do it, Harry, and I’ll do the rest. I’ll allow you about a week on each case, but hurry.”