“Well, it’s him I’d like to see with your bracelets on,” answered Corny with fearful energy, “to see booked for ten years, as he will be, I’ve no doubt, if you can prove a good case agin him.”
“You’ve quarrelled with him, then?” I remarked, with some surprise at the association of an honest man with a thief.
“Not me,” cried the old porter, with warmth. “Ye don’t think I’d speak to the likes of him? But he’s brought me bitter sorrow, and it’s only fair he should suffer for it. I think I can do that, and do you a good turn at the same time, sur, and him never be a bit the wiser. There was a grocer’s broke into down at Greenside last week, was’nt there? and a lot of brandy and things took?”
“Ah! did he do that?” I cried, for it was in connection with that very case that Micky’s name had cropped up in my mind, coupled with the fear, I confess, that I should never bring the crime home to him. Micky did a deal in shebeening, and who more likely to find a use for strong spirits which cost him nothing? but experience told me that he would never be the dolt to keep the plunder where any connection between it and himself could be traced.
“Will no harm come on me or mine if I tell ye all I know?” tremblingly inquired Corny.
“Had you anything to do with the affair yourself?” I sharply demanded.
“No, by me immortal sowl, no!” cried the old man, “I’d sooner drop dead with starvation than rob any one of a hap’orth. But my son Pat—he’s a labourer, sur, and been out for two months with the frost—he has been too much in Micky’s company—mebbe you’ve seen him—and it’s him I’m afeard for. He got fourteen days just for being in Micky’s company, yet he won’t keep away from the villain. My belief is, Micky has throw’d a charm over him, and Pat’s being led off his feet without the power to help himself. Oh, sur, it’s an awful thought to me and to his sister, that would give the very heart out of her own breast to keep him straight.”
There could be little doubt of his sincerity now, for his whole heart was in his eyes, and he had broken down pitifully as he spoke. I now dimly understood the case, for it was not the first by many dozens which had come in my way.
“Tell me all you know, and I will do what I can for you, though I can promise nothing,” I said, thinking that the son might be involved more than the father was aware.
“I’m content with that, sur,” he gratefully responded, “for I hear there’s thaves that think your word surer than the bank. But it’s not much I do know. There’s an empty place in the court down there where Micky lives. It used to be a coal-house, but nobody uses it now, and the roof’s nigh dropping to pieces. Well, I believe if you go to that place and get the door open, and dig up the dross, you’ll find a good deal of what was tuck out of the grocer’s. I think Micky did the job, but anyhow he has a key that opens that place, and nobody but him ever gets a finger near the stuff.”