Here one of the shopmen came up to his master, and said,
“I heard Mr. Ball’s own man yesterday accuse this very boy of taking a loaf from his cart.”
“Yesterday!” thought Clare; “it seems a week ago!”
“Oh! this is the boy, is it?” said the baker. “You see I didn’t know him! All the same, I don’t believe he took the loaf.”
“Indeed I didn’t, sir! Another boy took it who didn’t know better, and I took it from him, and was putting it back on the cart when the man turned round and saw me, and wouldn’t listen to a word I said. But a working-man believed me, and bought the loaf, and gave it between us.”
“A likely story!” said the draper.
“I’ve heard that much,” said the baker, “and I believe it. At least I have no reason to believe my man against him, Mr. Maidstone. That same night I discovered he had been cheating me to a merry tune. I discharged him this morning.”
“Well, he certainly don’t look a respectable boy,” said the draper, who naturally, being all surface himself, could read no deeper than clothes; “but I’m greatly in want of one to carry out parcels, and I don’t mind if I try him. If he do steal anything, he’ll be caught within the hour!”
“Oh, thank you, sir!” said Clare.
“You shall have sixpence a day,” Mr. Maidstone continued, “—not a penny more till I’m sure you’re an honest boy.”