Moriarty--that's Annie's pa--ought
to be the feller who hurt him? That feller, instead of Caroline?"
"Sure thing! If you know who did it, he's your mark."
"He could be held responsible, couldn't he?"
"Certainly."
"Um-hm. So I thought. And if he was a right-minded chap, he'd be glad to
help the poor critter, providin' he knew what damage he'd done; wouldn't
you think so?"
Malcolm nodded sagely, opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it
again. A sudden recollection came to him, an alarming recollection. He
turned in his chair and looked at his visitor. Captain Elisha met his
gaze frankly.
"Where did this accident happen?" asked Mr. Dunn, his condescending
smile absent.
"At the corner of Saint Nicholas Avenue and One Hundred and
Twenty-Eighth Street. It happened last Friday mornin', a week ago. And
the car that hit him was a yellow one."
Malcolm did not answer. His pale face grew paler, and then flushed a
brilliant red. The captain seemed to feel sorry for him.
"Naturally," he went on, "when I heard about it, I remembered what you
told Mr. Sylvester and me at the club that afternoon. I understand how
'twas, of course. You never thought you'd done any real harm and just
went on, thinkin' 'twas a good joke, much as anything.
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