Part 42 (1/2)
”But he was proved innocent,” said Mr. Rockwell, ”so, if you have anything to say against him, your time is thrown away.”
”I know he was innocent,” said Micky; ”another boy took it.”
”Who was he?”
”I did it.”
”Then you did a wicked thing in stealing the money, and a mean thing in trying to get an innocent boy into trouble.”
”I wouldn't have done it,” said Micky, ”if I hadn't been paid for it.”
”Paid for stealing!” said Mr. Rockwell, astonished.
”Paid for tryin' to get d.i.c.k into trouble.”
”That does not seem to be a very likely story,” said Mr. Rockwell. ”Who would pay you money for doing such a thing?”
”Mr. Gilbert.”
”My book-keeper?”
”Yes,” said Micky, vindictively.
”I can hardly believe this,” said Mr. Rockwell.
”He paid me only a dollar for what I did,” said Micky, in an injured tone. ”He'd ought to have given me five dollars. He's a reg'lar mean feller.”
”And is this why you betray him now?”
”No,” said Micky; ”it isn't the money, though it's mean to expect a feller to run the risk of bein' nabbed for a dollar; but when the 'copp'
had got hold of me I met him, and he said I was a young scamp, and he didn't know anything about me.”
”Is this true?” asked Mr. Rockwell, looking keenly at Micky.
Micky confirmed his statement by an oath.
”I don't want you to swear. I shall not believe you the sooner for that.
Can you explain why Mr. Gilbert should engage in such a base conspiracy?”
”He told me that he hated d.i.c.k,” said Micky.
”Do you like him?”
”No, I don't,” said Micky, honestly; ”but I hate Mr. Gilbert worse.”
”Why do you hate Richard?”
”Because he puts on airs.”
”I suppose,” said Mr. Rockwell, smiling, ”that means that he wears good clothes, and keeps his face and hands clean.”