#1
After Twenty Years
The policeman on duty moved up the avenue impressively. The time was barely ten o'clock at night, but a chilly wind with a few drops of rain in it had driven most of the people off the streets.
About midway of a certain block, the policeman slowed his walk. A man with an unlighted cigar in his mouth was standing in the doorway of a store. As the policeman walked over to him, the man spoke up quickly.
"It's all right, officer," he said. "I am just waiting for a friend. It's an appointment made twenty years ago. This may sound a little odd to you, so I'll explain. Twenty years ago there was a restaurant here--Joe Brady's restaurant."
"It was torn down," the policeman said, "about five years ago."
The man in the doorway struck a match and lit his cigar. The light showed a pale face with keen eyes and a little white scar near his right eyebrow. There was a diamond pin in his necktie.
"Twenty years ago tonight," the man continued, "I dined here at Joe Brady's restaurant with Jimmy Wells, my best friend and the finest fellow in the world. He and I grew up here in New York together, just like two brothers. I was eighteen and Jimmy was twenty. The next morning I was to start for the west to make my fortune. Jimmy didn't want to go; he thought New York was the best place on earth to live. Well, we agreed that we would meet here exactly twenty years from that date and time, no matter what out conditions might be or what distance we might have to travel."
"It sounds pretty interesting," the policeman remarked. "Haven't you heard from your friend since you left?"
"Well, yes. For a time we wrote to each other," the other man continued, "but after a year or two we lost contact with each other completely. But I know Jimmy will meet me here tonight if he's alive, for he always was the most loyal fellow in the world. He never forget."
The waiting man pulled out a handsome watch, the lid of which was set with small diamonds.
"You did well in the West, didn't you?" the policeman said.
"You're right! I've had to compete with some of the sharpest people in the country to make my fortune. A man gets dull in New York. But the West makes him sharp."
#2
"I'll be on my way," said the policeman. "I hope your friend comes. Are you going to leave if he's not here exactly at ten o'clock?"
"Oh, no," the other said. "I'll give him half an hour at least. If Jimmy is alive, he'll be here by that time. Good night, officer."
"Good night, sir," the policeman said and then he went away.
About twenty minutes later a tall man in a long overcoat, with collar turned up to his ears, hurried across from the opposite side of the street. He went directly to the waiting man.
"Is that you Bob?" he asked doubtfully.
"Is that you, Jimmy Wells?" responded the man in the doorway.
"It's good to see you!" the new comer said, grasping both the other's hands in his own. "It's good old Bob. I knew I'd find you here if you were still in existence. Well, well, well! Twenty years is a long time. The old restaurant's gone, Bob. I wish it remained, so we could have another dinner there. How did you like the West, old fellow?"
#3
"Marvelous. I found everything I wanted there. You've changed a lot, Jimmy. I never thought you were so tall."
"Oh, I grew a little after I was twenty."
"Are you doing well in New York, Jimmy?"
"Moderately. I have a job in one of the city departments. Come on, Bob. We'll go around the corner to a place I know and have long talk about old times."
When they reached the lighted area, they turned to look at each other. The man from the West stopped suddenly and released the other man's arm.
"You're not Jimmy Wells," he said angrily. "Twenty years is a long time, but not long enough to change a man's nose from a long one to a short one."
"Sometimes it changes a good man into a bad one," the tall man replied. "You've been under arrest for ten minutes, Silky Bob. The Chicago police thought you might come to New York and they asked us to arrest you. Now, before we go to the station, here's a note I was asked to give to you. It's from Officer Jimmy Wells."
The man from the West unfolded a little piece of paper handed him. His hand was steady when he began to read, but it trembled a little by the time he had finished. The note was rather short.
Bob:
I went to the appointed place on time. I was the policeman you were talking to. When you struck a match to light your cigar, I saw the face of a man wanted by the police in Chicago. Since I hated the idea of arresting an old friend myself, I sent a plain-clothes man to do it.
Jimmy
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