He expected the man, if guilty, to show signs of concern or confusion; but, if anything, the sweep looked brighter after the question.
“Away with me?” he echoed, to gain time for the answer. “Of course I did. I took the soot.”
“Nothing else?” suspiciously pursued McSweeny.
“Nothing else, sir, as I’m a living man,” energetically returned Sandy. “I hope you don’t think I would touch an article belonging to any one else?”
The question was a delicate one, and McSweeny did not attempt an answer, further than to state that some things had been missed, and that he was there in his official capacity to investigate the case, and try to find the articles missing.
Sandy allowed him to talk on, drinking it all in and becoming brighter and more beaming at every word.
“I hope you’ll search every hole and corner in my place, sir,” he fervently exclaimed, when McSweeny had done. “I want my character cleared, and my honesty established. What,” he added grandly, “what is dearer to a poor man than his good name? and what would become of my business if folks took me for a thief? I insist on you searching my place—never mind about a warrant, or anything else—my honour is at stake, and I must have it done at once.”
He led the way downstairs to his abode, in which McSweeny found quite a crowd of small sooty children scrambling about the earthen floor in noisy glee. These were all sent outside, and then Sandy explained to his wife with much warmth the absurd suspicion which had been raised against his character.
“I see it all now! I see it all now!” he suddenly exclaimed, smiting his sooty brow with tragic force. “Could anybody believe they would be so cunning?”
McSweeny hinted that an explanation would be acceptable.