ed. He knew nothing of
Tim Ryan's testimony, and supposed there was no doubt of Dick's
conviction. He would like very well to have been present at the trial;
but he had unpleasant associations connected with the court-room at the
Tombs, having figured there on several occasions in an important but not
very enviable capacity.

As he was standing by the park railings, his particular friend and
admirer, Limpy Jim, came up.

"Mornin', Jim," said Micky. "What luck?"

"None at all," said Jim. "I haven't had a shine yet, and I'm precious
hungry."

"Come and take breakfast with me," said Micky, in an unusual fit of
generosity; for he was generally more willing to be treated than to
treat.

"Have you got stamps enough?"

"Look at this," and Micky displayed the bill which he had received from
Gilbert.

"You're in luck, Micky. Did you make all that by shines?"

"Never mind how I made it. I guess it's good. Come along if you're
hungry."

Limpy Jim followed Micky across Printing-House Square to a cheap
restaurant on Nassau Street, between Ann and Beekman Streets, and they
were soon partaking with relish of a breakfast which, as they were not
very fastidious, proved abundantly satisfactory.

"I've got some news," said Micky, after he had drained his cup of
coffee. "You haven't forgot Ragged Dick, have ye?"

"He's set up for a gentleman. I saw him a week ago strutting round as if
he lived on Fifth Avenue."

"Well, he's set up for something else now."

"What's that?"

"A pick-pocket."

"What?" asked Jim, amazed.

"He stole an old chap's pocket-book yesterday afternoon, and I seed a
policeman haulin' him off to the p'lice station."

"That's where he gets his good clo'es from?" suggested Jim.

"Most likely. I expect he's on his way to the Island by this time."

"Serve him right for puttin' on airs. He won't pretend to be so much
better than the rest of us now."

"Wonder what Tom Wilkins'll say? He's a great friend of Dick's."

"He's a sneak," said Micky.

"That's so. I wanted to borrer a shillin' of him last week, and he
wouldn't lend it to me."

This Tom Wilkins was a boot-black like the two who were expressing so
unfavorable an opinion of his character. He had a mother and two sisters
partially dependent upon him for support, and faithfully carried home
all his earnings. This accounts for his being unwilling to lend Limpy
Jim, who had no one to look out for but himself, and never considered it
necessary