Burn, Witch, Burn!

"Show him your legs," I tells the drunk. 'Not unless they're better than the Follies,' grins this

potato-brained ape. But the drunk's rolled up his pants an' down his socks an' shows 'em.

"'What t'hell done that?' says the lootenant, standin' up.

"'The doll,' says the drunk. The lootenant looks at him, and sits back blinkin'. An' I tells him about

answerin' the drunk's yells, an' what he tells me, an' what I see. The sergeant laughs an' the flatties laugh

but the lootenant gets red in the face an' says, 'Are you tryin' to kid me, Shevlin?' An' I says, 'I'm tellin'

you what he tells me an' what I seen, an' there's the doll.' An' he says, 'This bootleg is fierce but I never

knew it was catchin'.' An' he crooks his finger at me an' says, 'Come up here, I want t' smell your breath.'

An' then I knows it's all up, because t' tell the truth the drunk had a flask an' I'd took one wit' him. Only

one an' the only one I'd had. But there it was on me breath. An' the lootenant says, 'I thought so. Get

down."

"An' then he starts bellerin' an' hollerin' at the drunk, 'You wit' your soup-an'-nuts an' your silk hat, you

ought to be a credit to your city an' what t' hell you think you can do, corrupt a good officer an' kid me?

You done the first but you ain't doin' the second,' he yelps. 'Put him in the cooler,' he yelps. 'An' throw

his damned doll in wit' him t' keep him company!' An' at that the drunk lets out a screech an' drops t' the

floor. He' out good an' plenty. An' the lootenant says, 'The poor damned fool by God he believes his

own lie! Bring him around an' let him go.' An' he says t' me, 'If you weren't such a good man, Tim, I'd

have you up for this. Take your degen'ret doll an' go home,' he says, 'I'll send a relief t' your beat. An'

take t-morrow off an' sober up,' says he. An' I says t' him, 'All right, but I seen what I seen. An' t' hell

wit' you all," I says t' the flatties. An' everybody's laughin' fit t' split. An' I says t' the lootenant, 'If you

break me for it or not, t' hell wit' you too.' But they keep on laughin', so I take the doll an' walk out."

He paused.

"I take the doll home," he resumed. "I tell it all t' Maggie, me wife. An' what does she tell me? 'T' think

you've been off the hard stuff or near off so long,' she says, 'an' now look at you!' she says, 'wit' this talk

of stabbin' dolls, an' insultin' the lootenant, an' maybe gettin' sent t' Staten Island,' she says. 'An' Jenny

just gettin' in high school! Go t' bed,' she says, 'an' sleep it off, an' throw the doll in the garbage,' she says.

But by now I am gettin' good an' mad, an' I do not throw it in the garbage but I take it with me. An'

awhile ago I meet McCann, an' somehow he knows somethin', I tell him an' he brings me here. An' just

fer what, I don't know."

"Do you want me to speak to the lieutenant?" I asked.

"What could you say?" he replied, reasonably enough. "If you tell him the drunk was right, an' that I'm

right an' I did see the doll run, what'll he think? He'll think you're as crazy as I must be. An' if you explain

maybe I was a little off me nut just for the minute, it's to the hospital they'll be sendin' me. No, Doctor.

I'm much obliged, but all I can do is say nothin' more an' be dignified an' maybe hand out a shiner or two

if they get too rough. It's grateful I am fer the kindly way you've listened. It makes me feel better."

Shevlin got to his feet, sighing heavily.

"An' what do you think? I mean about what the drunk said he seen, an' what I seen?" he asked

somewhat nervously.

"I cannot speak for the inebriate," I answered cautiously. "As for yourself-well, it might be that the doll

had been lying out there in the street, and that a cat or dog ran across just as the automobile went by.

Dog or cat escaped, but the action directed your attention to the doll and you thought-"

He interrupted me with a wave of his hand.

"All right. All right. 'Tis enough. I'll just leave the doll wit' you to pay for the diagnoses, sir."

With considerable dignity and perceptibly heightened color Shevlin stalked from the room. McCann was

shaking with silent laughter. I picked up the doll and laid it on my table. I looked at the subtly malignant

little face and I did not feel much like laughing.

For some obscure reason I took the Walters doll out of the drawer and placed it beside the other, took

out the strangely knotted cord and set it between them. McCann was standing at my side, watching. I

heard him give a low whistle.

"Where did you get that, Doc?" he pointed to the cord. I told him. He whistled again.

"The boss never knew he had it, that's sure," he said. "Wonder who slipped it over on him? The hag, of

course. But how?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Why, the witch's ladder," he pointed again to the cord. "That's what they call it down Mexico way. It's

bad medicine. The witch slips it to you and then she has power over you." He bent over the cord…"Yep,

it's the witch's ladder-the nine knots an' woman's hair…an' in the boss's pocket!"