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Carmella Commands

Mr. Dineen smiled tolerantly. He was used to outbreaks.

“He’s confessed,” was his answer.

“Confessed! Nick says he stole! He never did! He couldn’t! He wouldn’t.”

“All he did was to do it. He’s signed a confession.”

“No, no! He couldn’t! My God, Mr. Cop, he’s a bootlegger, yes! Sure he is. But stealing! No-no-no! Not Nicolo!”

“He gave you as a character witness. Want to help him? Like enough a girl like you with plenty of sob stuff could get him probation.”

Carmella was silent a moment. Then slowly she asked:

“He—Nicolo—stole—money?”

“Did, and admits it.”

“Sob for that guy?” the girl suddenly cried. “Sob for a thief? A cheap thief? All I said was about bootlegging. I thought that was all he did. I thought he was straight. But, God! If he stole, I’m off him. Off him! Off him! The little rat! The damned little rat!”

Officer Dineen rose and pretended to be ready to go.

“Then you’re off him?” he asked.

“Off him? Of course I’m off him. The rat! I thought he’d grow up to be an honest bootlegger. If he’s a crook, I’m off him. Tell him that from me.”

Officer Dineen, slightly dazed but with new wisdom, which would help him in some future case, left the

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