"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 d.i.c.k.
"Not guilty," said d.i.c.k, 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 He stated that he was standing on the sidewalk, when he felt a hand thrust into his pocket, and forcibly withdrawn.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 d.i.c.k.
"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 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?"