Summary
In a city whose gaslit avenues seem stitched from soot and starlight, a clerk—calloused fingers, collar too starched—dares petition his flint-hearted employer for a single crumpled dollar so that laudanum might ease the death-rattle of the only woman who ever sang him lullabies. Enter a simian savant: coat-pocket Sherlock with opposable morals, filching that banknote while the till yawns open like a drunkard’s mouth. Cue thunder of revolvers: masked desperados storm the marble temple of capital, slamming iron doors on the skinflint boss now entombed among ledgers. Street urchins—those barefoot Mowglis of the alley—unspool a plan equal parts Dickens and dime-novel, spiriting cash from under robbers’ noses and prying the vault open with a hairpin, a dog’s loyalty, and the monkey’s tail. When oxygen thins and guilt thickens, the freed magnate drops a solitary penny into the clerk’s blistered palm: a coin so cold it burns, so small it outweighs the universe.
Synopsis
A young man asks his boss for a dollar which he needs to buy medicine for his sick mother. The old lady is nursed by the clever monkey, who sizes up the situation and steals a dollar from the pocket of the cashier. Then the bank is robbed and the boss is locked in the vault. The children, however, save the money and help rescue the boss who has now changed his mind about the man and shows his gratitude by giving him a penny reward.
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