DICK'S ACQUITTAL.
After his interview with Mr. Murdock and Henry Fosdick, Dick felt
considerably relieved. He not only saw that his friends were convinced
of his innocence, but, through Tim Ryan's testimony, he saw that there
was a reasonable chance of getting clear. He had begun to set a high
value on respectability, and he felt that now he had a character to
sustain.
The night wore away at last. The pallet on which he lay was rather hard;
but Dick had so often slept in places less comfortable that he cared
little for that. When he woke up, he did not at first remember where he
was, but he very soon recalled the circumstances, and that his trial was
close at hand.
"I hope Mr. Murdock won't oversleep himself," thought our hero. "If he
does, it'll be a gone case with me."
At an early hour the attendant of the police station went the rounds,
and Dick was informed that he was wanted. Brief space was given for the
arrangement of the toilet. In fact, those who avail themselves of the
free lodgings provided at the station-house rarely pay very great
attention to their dress or personal appearance. Dick, however, had a
comb in his pocket, and carefully combed his hair. He also brushed off
his coat as well as he could; he also critically inspected his shoes,
not forgetting his old professional habits.
"I wish I had a brush and some blackin'," he said to himself. "My shoes
would look all the better for a good shine."
But time was up, and, under the escort of a policeman, Dick was conveyed
to the Tombs. Probably all my readers have heard of this building. It is
a large stone building, with massive columns, broad on the ground, but
low. It is not only used for a prison, but there are two rooms on the
first floor used for the holding of courts. Into the larger one of these
Dick was carried. He looked around him anxiously, and to his great joy
perceived that not only Mr. Murdock was on hand, but honest Tim Ryan,
whose testimony was so important to his defence. Dick was taken forward
to the place provided for those awaiting trial, and was obliged to await
his turn. One or two cases, about which there was no doubt, including
the colored woman arrested for drunkenness, were summarily disposed of,
and the next case was called. The policeman who had arrested Dick
presented himself with our hero.
Dick was so neatly dressed, and looked so modest and self-possessed,
that the judge surveyed him with some surprise.
"What is this lad charged with?" he demanded.
"With taking a wallet from a gentleman's pocket," said the policeman.
"Did you arrest him?"
"I did."
"Did you take him in the act?"
"No; I did not see him take it."
"What have you to say, prisoner? Are you guilty or not guilty?" said the
judge, turning to Dick.
"Not guilty," said Dick, quietly.
"State why you made the arrest," said the judge.
"I saw him with the wallet in his hand."
"Is the gentleman who had his pocket picked, present?"
"He is."
"Summon him."
The red-faced man came forward, and gave his testimony. He stated that
he was standing on the sidewalk, when he felt a hand thrust into his
pocket, and forcibly withdrawn. He immediately felt for his wallet, and
found it gone. Turning, he saw a boy running, and immediately gave
chase.
"Was the boy you saw running the prisoner?"
"I suppose it was."
"You suppose? Don't you know?"
"Of course it was, or he would not have been found with the wallet in
his hand."
"But you cannot identify him from personal observation?"
The red-faced man admitted with some reluctance that his eyesight was
very poor, and he did not catch sight of the boy till he was too far off
to be identified.
"This is not so clear as it might be," said the judge. "Still,
appearances are against the prisoner, and as the wallet was found in his
possession, he must be found guilty, unless that fact can be
satisfactorily explained."
"I have a witness who can explain it," said Dick.
"Where is he?"
Tim Ryan, who understood that his evidence was now wanted, came forward.
After being sworn, the judge asked, "What is your name?"
"Tim Ryan, sir."
"Where do you live?"
"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 relishing 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 Dick's pocket."
"I suppose you mean by Dick, 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 Dick."
"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?"
"Yes. He is a good boy."
"The case seems a clear one. The prisoner is discharged from custody.
Arrest Micky Maguire on the same charge as early as possible."
The next case was called, and Dick was free.
Mr. Murdock came forward, and took him by the hand, which he shook
heartily.
"I congratulate you on your acquittal," he said.
"I feel a little better than I did," said Dick. "Tim, you're a good
fellow," he said, clasping Tim's hand. "I wouldn't have got off, if it
hadn't been for you."
"I ought to do that much for you, Dick, when you've been so kind to me."
"How are you getting along now, Tim?"
"Pretty well. Mother's got so she can work and we're doin' well. When
she was sick, it was pretty hard."
"Here's something to help you along," said Dick, and he drew a bill from
his pocket.
"Five dollars!" said Tim, in surprise.
"You can buy some new clothes, Tim."
"I ought not to take so much as that, Dick."
"It's all right, Tim. There's some more where that comes from."
They were in Centre Street by this time. Fosdick came up hurriedly.
"Have you got off, Dick?" he asked, eagerly.
"Yes, Fosdick. There's no chance of my being entertained at the expense
of the city."
"I didn't expect the trial was coming off so early. Tell me all about
it."
"What did they say at the house at my being away?" asked Dick.
"Miss Peyton inquired particularly after you. I said, as you directed
me, that you were detained by important business."
"What did she say then?"
Dick was so particular in his inquiries, fearing lest any suspicion
should have been formed of the real cause which had detained him. There
was no reason for it; but it had always been a matter of pride with him
in his vagabond days that he had never been arrested on any charge, and
it troubled him that he should even have been suspected of theft.
"You are fishing for compliments, Dick," said Fosdick.
"How do you make that out?"
"You want to know what Miss Peyton said. I believe you are getting
interested in her."
"When I am, just send me to a lunatic asylum," said Dick.
"I am afraid you are getting sarcastic, Dick. However, not to keep you
in suspense, Miss Peyton said that you were one of the wittiest young
men she knew of, and you were quite the life of the house."
"I suppose I ought to blush," said Dick; "but I'm a prey to hunger just
now, and it's too much of an effort."
"I'll excuse you this time," said Fosdick. "As to the hunger, that's
easily remedied. We shall get home to breakfast, and be in good time
too."
Fosdick was right. They were the first to seat themselves at the table.
Mr. Clifton came in directly afterwards. Dick felt a momentary
embarrassment.
"What would he say," thought our hero, "if he knew where I passed the
night?"
"Good-morning, Hunter," said Clifton. "You didn't favor us with your
presence at dinner last evening."
"No," said Dick. "I was absent on very important business."
"Dining with your friend, the mayor, probably?"
"Well, no, not exactly," said Dick, "but I had some business with the
city government."
"It seems to me that you're getting to be quite an important character."
"Thank you," said Dick. "I am glad to find that genius is sometimes
appreciated."
Here Miss Peyton entered.
"Welcome, Mr. Hunter," she said. "We missed you last evening."
"I hope it didn't affect your appetite much," said Dick.
"But it did. I appeal to Mr. Fosdick whether I ate anything to speak
of."
"I thought Miss Peyton had a better appetite than usual," said Fosdick.
"That is too bad of you, Mr. Fosdick," said Miss Peyton. "I'm sure I
didn't eat more than my canary bird."
"Just the way it affected me," said Dick. "It always improves my
appetite to see you eat, Miss Peyton."
Miss Peyton looked as if she hardly knew whether to understand this
remark as complimentary or otherwise.
That evening, at the dinner-table, Clifton drew a copy of the "Express"
from his pocket, and said, "By Jove, Hunter, here's a capital joke on
you! I'll read it. 'A boy, named Richard Hunter, was charged with
picking a pocket on Chatham Street; but it appearing that the theft was
committed by another party, he was released from custody.'"
Dick's heart beat a little quicker while this was being read, but he
maintained his self-possession.
"Of course," said he, "that was the important business that detained me.
But I hope you won't mention it, for the sake of my family."
"I'd make the young rascal change his name, if I were you," said
Clifton, "if he's going to get into the Police record."
"I think I shall," said Dick, "or maybe I'll change my own. You couldn't
mention a highly respectable name that I could take,--could you?"
"Clifton is the most respectable name I know of," said the young
gentleman owning that name.
"If you'll make me your heir, perhaps I'll adopt it."
"I'll divide my debts with you, and give you the biggest half," said
Clifton.
It is unnecessary to pursue the conversation. Dick found to his
satisfaction that no one at the table suspected that he was the Richard
Hunter referred to in the "Express."