The Slaves of Paris Émile Gaboriau (free reads .TXT) 📖
- Author: Émile Gaboriau
Book online «The Slaves of Paris Émile Gaboriau (free reads .TXT) 📖». Author Émile Gaboriau
Chupin was talking volubly.
“Don’t you call me a swell, nor yet say that I brag,” said he. “I shall always make this kind of appearance, for to work in the manner I propose, a man must pay some attention to dress.”
At this his companions roared with laughter.
“All right,” returned Toto. “I’m precious sharp, though you may not think so, and shall go in for all kinds of elegant accomplishments, and come out a regular masher.”
“Wonders will never cease,” answered one of the men. “When you go on your trip for action in the Bois among the toffs, will you take me with you?”
“Anyone can go to the Bois who has money: and just tell me who are those who make money. Why, those who have plenty of cheek and a good sound business. Well, I have learned my business from some real downy cards, who made it pay well. Why should I not do the same?”
With a sickening feeling of terror, Tantaine saw that the lad was half drunk. What could he be going to say? and how much did he know? Toto’s guests evidently saw that he had taken too much; but as he seemed ready to let them into a secret, they paid great attention, and exchanged a look of intelligence. The young rogue’s new clothes and his liberality all proved that he had found a means of gaining money; the only question was what the plan could be. To induce him to talk they passed the bottle rapidly and flattered him up. The younger man of the two shook his head with a smile.
“I don’t believe you have any business at all,” said he.
“Nor have I, if by business you mean some low handicraft. It is brain work I mean, my boy; and that’s what I do.”
“I don’t doubt that a bit,” answered the elder guest coaxingly.
“Come on! Tell us what it is,” broke in the other. “You don’t expect us to take your word.”
“It is as easy as lying,” replied Toto. “Listen a bit, and you shall have the whole bag of tricks. Suppose I saw Polyte steal a couple of pairs of boots from a trotter-case seller’s stall—”
Polyte interrupted the narrator, protesting so strongly that he would not commit such an act, that Tantaine perceived at once that some such trifling act of larceny weighed heavily on his conscience.
“You needn’t kick up such a row,” returned Toto. “I am only just putting it as a thing that might happen. We will say you had done the trick, and that I had twigged you. Do you know what I should go? Well, I would hunt up Polyte, and say quietly, ‘Halves, old man, or I will split.’ ”
“And I should give you a crack in the jaw,” returned Polyte angrily.
Forgetting his fine dress, Toto playfully put his thumb to his nose and extended his fingers.
“You would not be such an ass,” said he. “You would say to yourself, ‘If I punch this chap, he will kick up no end of a row, and I shall be taken up, and perhaps sent to the mill.’ No; you would be beastly civil, and would end by doing just as I wished.”
“And this is what you call your business, is it?”
“Isn’t it a good one—the mugs stand the racket, and the downy cards profit by it?”
“But there is no novelty in this; it is only blackmail after all.”
“I never said it wasn’t; but it is blackmailing perfected into a system.”
As Toto made this reply he hammered on the table, calling for more drink.
“But,” remarked Polyte, with an air of disappointment, “you don’t get chances every day, and the business is often a precious poor one. You can’t always be seeing chaps prigging boots.”
“Pooh! pooh!” answered Toto, “if you want to make money in this business, you must keep your eyes about you. Our customers don’t come to you, but there is nothing to prevent you going to them. You can hunt until you find them.”
“And where are you to hunt, if you please?”
“Ah, that’s tellings.”
A long silence ensued, during which Tantaine was half tempted to come forward. By doing so he would assuredly nip all explanations in the bud; but, on the other hand, he wanted to hear all the young rascal had to say. He therefore only moved a little nearer, and listened more intently.
Forgetting his curls, Toto was abstractedly passing his fingers through his hair, and reflecting with all the wisdom of a muddled brain. Finally, he came to the conclusion that he might speak, and, leaning forward, he whispered—
“You won’t peach if I tell you the dodge?”
His companions assured him that he might have every confidence in them.
“Very well; I make my money in the Champs Élysées, and sometimes get a harvest twice a day.”
“But there are no shoemakers’ shops there.”
“You are a fool,” answered Toto contemptuously. “Do you think I blackmail thieves? That wouldn’t be half good enough. Honest people, or at least people who call themselves honest, are my game. These are the ones who can be made to pay up.”
Tantaine shuddered; he remembered that Mascarin had made use of the same expression, and at once surmised that Toto must have had an occasional ear to the keyhole.
“But,” objected Polyte, “honest people have no occasion to pay up.”
Toto struck his glass so heavily on the table that it flew to shivers.
“Will you let me speak?” said he.
“Go on, go on, my boy,” returned his friend.
“Well, when I’m hard up for cash, I go into the Champs Élysées, and take a seat on one of the benches. From there I keep an eye on the cabs and see who gets out of them. If a respectable woman does so, I am sure of my bird.”
“Do you
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