Driven from Home; Or, Carl Crawford's ExperienceAlger, Horatio, Jr.
General
Driven from Home; Or, Carl Crawford's Experience
Alger, Horatio, Jr.
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Didactic fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Juvenile fiction; Runaway teenagers -- Juvenile fiction
“She was my wife!” said Cook, “but while I was in California, some years
since, she took possession of my small property, procured a divorce
through an unprincipled lawyer, and I returned to find myself without
wife, child or money. Wasn’t that a mean trick?”
“I think it was.”
“Can you tell me where she is?” asked Cook, eagerly.
“Yes, I can.”
“Where can I find my wife?” asked Cook, with much eagerness.
Carl hesitated. He did not like his stepmother; he felt that she had
treated him meanly, but he was not prepared to reveal her present
residence till he knew what course Cook intended to pursue.
“She is married again,” he said, watching Cook to see what effect this
announcement might have upon him.
“I have no objection, I am sure,” responded Cook, indifferently. “Did
she marry well?”
“She married a man in good circumstances.”
“She would take good care of that.”
“Then you don’t intend to reclaim her?”
“How can I? She obtained a divorce, though by false representations.
I am glad to be rid of her, but I want her to restore the two thousand
dollars of which she robbed me. I left my property in her hands, but
when she ceased to be my wife she had no right to take possession of it.
I ought not to be surprised, however. It wasn’t the first theft she had
committed.”
“Can this be true?” asked Carl, excited.
“Yes, I married her without knowing much of her antecedents. Two years
after marriage I ascertained that she had served a year’s term of
imprisonment for a theft of jewelry from a lady with whom she was living
as housekeeper.”
“Are you sure of this?”
“Certainly. She was recognized by a friend of mine, who had been an
official at the prison. When taxed with it by me she admitted it, but
claimed that she was innocent. I succeeded in finding a narrative of the
trial in an old file of papers, and came to the conclusion that she was
justly convicted.”
“What did you do?”
“I proposed separation, but she begged me to keep the thing secret, and
let ourselves remain the same as before. I agreed out of consideration
for her, but had occasion to regret it. My business becoming slack, I
decided to go to California in the hope of acquiring a competence. I was
not fortunate there, and was barely able, after a year, to get home. I
found that my wife had procured a divorce, and appropriated the little
money I had left. Where she had gone, or where she had conveyed our son,
I could not learn. You say you know where she is.”
“I do.”
“Will you tell me?”
“Mr. Cook,” said Carl, after a pause for reflection, “I will tell you,
but not just at present. I am on my way to Chicago on business. On my
return I will stop here, and take you with me to the present home of
your former wife. You will understand my interest in the matter when I
tell you that she is now married to a relative of my own.”
“I pity him whoever he is,” said Cook.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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