“I haven’t the slightest idea in the world!” said Mrs. Wilmerton. “All I know about it is—”
Both Mrs. Wilmerton and Philo Gubb turned their heads toward the door. The greater duskiness of the kitchen was caused by the large form of City Attorney Mullen. He bowed ceremoniously to Mrs. Wilmerton, who turned bright red with embarrassment, probably because of her part in the efforts of the League to have Mr. Mullen impeached by the City Council. Attorney Mullen was not, however, embarrassed.
“I am glad you are here, Mrs. Wilmerton,” he said, “for I wish a witness. I do not wish to have any stigma of bribery rest on me. I came here,” he continued, taking a leather purse from the inner pocket of his coat, “to give these twenty-five dollars to Mr. Gubb. Mr. Gubb, I have just visited Snooks—so called—Turner at the jail. I went there with the intention of bailing him out, pending the simple process of his ultimate and speedy release from the charges against him. I am convinced that I was wrong when I made the charge of burglary against him. I am convinced that no burglary was ever committed on my premises—”
“Oh!” exclaimed Mrs. Wilmerton. “Not even seven bottles of beer and a beer-opener, I suppose!”
Attorney Mullen turned on her like a flash.
“What do you know about beer and beer-openers?” he snapped.
“I may not know as much as Detective Gubb, but I know what I know!” she answered, and Mr. Mullen restrained himself sufficiently to hide the glare of hatred in his eyes by turning to Philo Gubb.
“Exactly!” he said with forced calmness. “And perhaps I know more about them than Mr. Gubb knows. In fact, I do know more about them. I know they are upstairs between a blanket and a mattress. I know, Mrs. Wilmerton,” he almost shouted, turning on her with an accusing forefinger, “that they were stolen from a house in this town by some one representing the Ladies’ Temperance League. I know that burglary was committed by, or at the behest of, some one representing the Ladies’ Temperance League! I know that, if this matter is carried to the end, a respectable old lady—a leader in the Ladies’ Temperance League—will go behind the bars, sentenced as a burglar! That’s what I know!”
“Oh, my!” gasped Mrs. Wilmerton, and sank into a chair.
“Now, then!” said Attorney Mullen, turning to Philo Gubb again, and handing him the twenty-five dollars, “I give you this money as my share of the fund that is to pay you for the work you do for Snooks Turner. I make no request, because of the money. It is yours. But if you love justice, for Heaven’s sake, send word to him to come out of jail!”