Part 65 (1/2)

”Look here,” demanded d.i.c.k savagely, ”ain't poor Ernie to have any o'

these things? Is he to set by and see me eat--what?”

”You are to be treated alike, of course,” cried David quickly. d.i.c.k's face cleared. He looked down in evident embarra.s.sment.

”Excuse me, kid. I--I always get riled when I think of him getting the worst of anything. I'm sure we'll both be terrible grateful to Chris--to Mrs. Jenison. She's an angel,--as of course you know, kid.

Sending me books, eh? Tell her I like d.i.c.kens, will you? And, say, there's _one_ book she needn't go to the trouble of sendin' me.”

”You mean the--the Bible?”

”Yes.”

”d.i.c.k, you don't really mean that. You--”

”I've already got one,” said the prisoner simply. His eyes fell with curious inconsistency. They saw his chin and lower lip quiver ever so slightly. He sc.r.a.ped the floor with his foot a time or two, and his fingers tightened on the bars. ”It's a little one my mother gave me when I was a kid. I've always kept it. Funny little old Bible, with print so small you can't hardly read it, 'specially that place where all them guys with the jay names were being begot. They seem to run together a good deal--I mean the names. I guess they must have run together considerable themselves, if accounts are true. Yes, my ma gave it to me for being a good boy once.”

His eyes were wet when he looked up at David's face again. His smile seemed more twisted than usual.

”Where is it now, d.i.c.k?” asked Jenison, a lump coming into his throat.

Joey was plainly, almost offensively amazed.

”Why,--why, Ernie's got it. He didn't have anything else to read, so he took it a couple of weeks ago. I--I guess I'll ask him for it some day soon. Oh, yes, there _is_ something I want to speak to you about, Joey.

A couple o' years ago I took out a life insurance policy in favor of Ernie, and also an accident policy. I couldn't keep up the accident one, but the other's paid up to next January. Maybe I won't have to pay on it again. It's for five thousand. I want you to see that he gets the money if--if I--well, you know. The policy is in the safe over at old Isaac's p.a.w.nshop,--you know the place. I'll write and ask him to come down and see me, and I'll tell him to give you the paper, if you don't mind, Joey.”

”Sure, d.i.c.k. I'll take charge of it. You're very good to Ernie, and thoughtful, lad.”

”Well, I guess I ought to be,” remarked d.i.c.k dryly.

David from the first had been more or less certain that d.i.c.k was not the one who shot Grand. He could not drive the ugly conviction from his mind. It occurred to him at this juncture to put his theory to the test, hoping to catch d.i.c.k off his guard.

”The police are now saying that you did not do the shooting, d.i.c.k.” He watched the other's face narrowly.

There was not so much as a flicker of alarm.

”They don't think the old boy committed suicide, do they?” asked d.i.c.k, with a chuckle of scorn for the obtuseness of the police.

”No. They're working on some new evidence, that's all.”

”It's grand to have a reputation like mine,” grinned the amiable rogue.

”They won't even believe me when they catch me red-handed. Once a liar, always a liar. That's their idea, eh? If I was to turn around and say I didn't do it, I suppose they'd believe me? Well, nix! I guess not!”

David and Joey left almost immediately after this, promising to visit him from time to time, and to do all in their power to aid Mr. Prull.

”Well, so long,” said d.i.c.k at parting. ”Say, Joey, will you remember me to Ruby? I wish her all the luck in the world.”

The summer months wore away and toward the middle of October the case of the State _vs_. Cronk and Cronk came up. There was little or no public interest in the hearing. Two sets of friends, rather small circles very widely apart, were deeply interested, and that was all.

The Jenisons and their friends formed one contingent, while the other was made up from that s.h.i.+fting, stealthy element of humanity known as the ”under-world.”--pickpockets, cracksmen and ne'er-do-wells who had been the a.s.sociates of d.i.c.k Cronk in one way or another, off and on, for years.

The plea of self-defense was ably presented by a great lawyer, but it was shattered by the State quite as easily as he had antic.i.p.ated. He made an eloquent, impa.s.sioned appeal for clemency. The jury was out not more than an hour. Their verdict was an acquittal for Ernest Cronk, a conviction for murder in the first degree against Richard, with the recommendation that he be hanged by the neck until dead.