Part 32 (2/2)
”In Mulberry Street.”
”Tell what you know of this case.”
”I was standing in Chatham Street, when I saw the ould gintleman with the red face (here the prosecutor scowled at Tim, not relis.h.i.+ng the description which was given of him) standing at the corner of Pearl Street. A boy came up, and put his hand into his pocket, and then run away as fast as his legs could carry him, wid the wallet in his hand.”
”Who was this boy? Do you know him?”
”Yes, sir.”
”Tell his name.”
”It was Micky Maguire,” said Tim, reluctantly.
”And who is Micky Maguire?”
”He blacks boots.”
”Then if this Micky Maguire took the wallet, how happened it that it was found in this boy's possession?”
”I can tell that,” said Tim. ”I ran after Micky to see if he'd get off wid the wallet. He hadn't gone but a little way when I saw him slip it into d.i.c.k's pocket.”
”I suppose you mean by d.i.c.k, the prisoner at the bar?”
”Yes, sir.”
”And what became of this Micky?”
”He stopped runnin' after he'd got rid of the pocket-book, and a minute after, up came the 'copp,' and took d.i.c.k.”
”Why didn't you come forward, and explain the mistake?”
”I was afraid Micky'd beat me.”
”Do you know this Micky Maguire?” said the judge, turning to the officer.
”I do.”
”What is his reputation?”
”Bad. He's been at the Island three or four times already.”
”Did you see him anywhere about when you made the arrest?”
”I did.”
”Do you know this boy who has just testified?”
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