The high school teacher of music was “blessed” with having six in his class who had “criminal records”. They weren’t nasty criminals; they were mainly pickpockets and thieves. Lunch break would see some new gadget on display, some new electronic device, some new pair of sunglasses.
The most accomplished thief was Montzie. He was small for a thirteen year old. “Montzie loves dogs,” observed some naive and law-abiding member of the class. Montzie didn’t “love dogs”; he was making friends with every guard dog in the city. It was a future investment.
The class loved the music class. It was always fun, and they got to create music and learn stuff. In fact, this classroom was the only music classroom in the city that had never had its equipment stolen. And the class liked the teacher.
One day, the teacher waved a ten-dollar bill in front of a pickpocket, and asked, “What’s this?”
“It’s ten dollars,” said the pickpocket.
“And how do you get it?” asked the teacher.
“You steal it,” said the pickpocket.
“You work for it,” said the teacher.
“You steal it, sir,” said the pickpocket. With that, the money disappeared! Simply disappeared out of the teacher’s hand!
Not wanting to create a fuss, the teacher called Montzie to the front. “Montzie,” whispered the teacher, “I need you to steal my money back.”
“No trouble,” said Montzie.
The class ended. The teacher still didn’t have his money. The class was dismissed. As he passed on the way out, Montzie said:
“I took your wallet out of your pocket. The ten dollars is in it. And the wallet is locked in your brief case.”
Such skill! Such extraordinary skill!