But it might not be a real offer, and it might be a trap. Maybe Davey never meant to tell him anything once he had the sparklies, or maybe he’d make stuff up to tell, stuff that wasn’t true, that would only get Mags in trouble if he tried to use it. And then there was the danger of doing the theft in the first place, Mags had never seen what happened to kiddies who snitched sparklies, because in his time no kiddie had had a reason to try, but it had to be a lot worse than ones caught snitching food or blankets. And Master Cole was just mean enough to have said to Davey, “I’ll let you leave here with money in yer pocket and a good suit’o clothes if you find out who’d snitch sparklies, given a chance.” Mags was convinced that there was nothing Master Cole wouldn’t try just for the meanness of it.

“That don’t sound safe,” he muttered, fishing a bright flash of red out of the pan. “I take all the risk, an’ fer what? If I git caught, yer off free, an’ if you git caught, ye kin say I give it ye and niver say ye ast for it.” Davey had never done anyone a kindness so far as Mags knew. He had never been cruel, but he had never done anyone a kindness either. That didn’t make him exceptional; just about everybody was that way. But it also didn’t make him trustworthy.

And hadn’t he just said he’d been getting favors from the cook that he hadn’t been sharing with the rest, like he was supposed to. That made him even less trustworthy. Like Demmon, he’d been greedy. But unlike Demmon, he’d been sly and had never told anybody.

For that matter, now that Mags came to think about it, no one here was really trustworthy on that scale. Even the littlest of the kiddies would give you up for more food. That was why everything good got shared and split, so everyone was equally guilty if there was guilt to go around.

But Davey hadn’t shared. Which meant—what? Probably nothing good. That he was sneaky, for sure. And greedy, for sure. And that anything he did would always be all about what he got out of it.

Mags was good at watching things out of the corner of his eye, and for a moment, Davey’s expression turned savage, and more than angry enough to make the hair on Mags’ neck stand up. Then he laughed. “Suit yerself. You ain’t the only one diggin’ out sparklies. If you won’t, summun else will.” And then the older boy turned away, fixing his attention on his own pan.