Conduct of life -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction; Runaway teenagers -- Fiction
He rose the next morning with the burden of care still weighing upon
him. In the evening the thought occurred to him that he might retrieve
his losses where he had incurred them, and again he bent his steps to
the gambling house. He risked five dollars, being one-half of what he
had. This was lost. Desperately he hazarded the remaining five dollars,
and lost again.
With a muttered oath he sprang to his feet, and left the brilliant room,
more gloomy and discouraged than ever. He was as badly off as before,
and penniless beside. He would have finished the evening at the theater,
but his recent loss prevented that. He lounged about the streets till it
was time to go to bed, and then went home in a very unsatisfactory state
of mind.
A day or two after, he met on Broadway the man whom of all others he
would gladly have avoided.
“Aha, my friend, I am glad to meet you,” said Duval, for it was he.
Dawkins muttered something unintelligible, and would have hurried on,
but Duval detained him.
“Why are you in such a hurry, my friend?” he said.
“Business,” returned Dawkins, shortly.
“That reminds me of the little business affair between us, mon ami. Have
you got any money for me?”
“Not yet.”
“Not yet! It is three days since we saw each other. Could you not do
something in three days?”
“I told you I required a week,” said Dawkins, roughly, “Let go my arm. I
tell you I am in haste.”
“Very well, mon ami,” said Duval, slowly relinquishing his hold, “take
care that you do not forget. There are four days more to the week.”
Dawkins hurried on feeling very uncomfortable. He was quite aware that
four days hence he would be as unprepared to encounter the Frenchman as
now. Still, something might happen.
Something, unfortunately, did happen.
The next day Mr. Danforth was counting a roll of bills which had been
just paid in, when he was unexpectedly called out of the counting-room.
He unguardedly left the bills upon his own desk. Dawkins saw them lying
there. The thought flashed upon him, “There lies what will relieve me
from all my embarrassment.”
Allowing himself scarcely a minute to think, he took from the roll four
fifty dollar notes, thrust one into the pocket of Paul's overcoat, which
hung up in the office, drew off his right boot and slipped the other
three into the bottom of it, and put it on again. He then nervously
resumed his place at his desk. A moment afterwards, Paul, who had been
to the post-office, entered with letters which he carried into the inner
office and deposited on Mr. Danforth's desk. He observed the roll
of bills, and thought his employer careless in leaving so much money
exposed, but said nothing on the subject to Dawkins, between whom and
himself there was little communication.
XXXI.
CONVICTED OF THEFT.
Half an hour later Mr. Danforth returned.
“Has any one been here?” he asked as he passed through the outer office.
“No, sir,” said Dawkins, with outward composure though his heart was
beating rapidly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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