"He may lie, too!" said Vincent, who had very good reasons for fearing Mr. Waterbury's testimony.
"Mr. Waterbury is a gentleman of veracity," said Alderman Morris sharply. "I see you recognize the name."
"Never heard of him," said Vincent. "I suppose it is one of the boy's confederates."
"I will answer for him," said the alderman. "My boy," he said, "I hope we shall be able to prove your innocence. Be under no anxiety. Go with the officer, and I will seek out Mr. Waterbury. Officer, take care to treat him gently."
"All right, sir."
There was no fear now that Tom would be roughly treated. He had too much regard for his own interest, and his tenure of office, to disoblige a man so influential and powerful as Alderman Morris.
Notwithstanding there had been such a turn in his favor, Tom felt humiliated to feel that he was under restraint, and his cheeks burned with shame as he walked beside the officer. Vincent, upon the other side, gnashed his teeth with rage, as he thought of his unexpected detention. Just as revenge was in his grasp, he had been caught in the same trap which he had so willingly set for Tom.
"That Alderman Morris is a fool!" he said. "He isn't fit to be in office."
"Don't you say nothin' against him!" said the policeman. "It won't be best for you. He's one of our leadin' citizens, Alderman Morris is."
"He snubbed you!" sneered Vincent. "He talked to you as if you were a dog."