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The Young Outlaw; or, Adrift in the Streets, a novel by Horatio Alger |
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Chapter 25. Brought To Justice |
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_ CHAPTER XXV. BROUGHT TO JUSTICE Sam would have been glad to leave the office, but he knew that to ask would be to subject him to increased suspicion. Besides, the stranger might not be intending to accuse him. Dr. Graham's attention was excited, and he asked, "Do you know anything of this matter, Mr. Clement?" "Yes, doctor. As I said, I was on board the Brooklyn ferry with this young man and a friend of his, whom I believe he addressed as Jim. I heard them talk, being in the next seat, about money, and something was said about concealment. My curiosity was aroused, and I made up my mind to follow them after they left the boat." "He knows all about it," thought Sam. "I wish I hadn't come back." "Go on," said Dr. Graham, eying Sam sternly as he spoke. "You followed the boys?" "Yes. They made their way to the end of a pier, where this young man of yours slipped off his stockings, and, as well as I could tell, for I was watching at a distance, concealed some bills in them, and afterwards drew them on again. It struck me at once that if the money had been honestly come by, they wouldn't have been so anxious to secrete it." "Sam," said the doctor, sternly, "what have you to say to this charge?" "It was my money," stammered Sam. "What did you put it in your stockings for?" "Jim told me how dangerous it was to carry it round in my pocket loose. So, as I hadn't any pocket-book, I put it in my stockings." "Very probable, indeed. Suppose you take off your stockings." Sam had decided objections to this; but he saw that it would be of no use to urge them, and slowly and reluctantly complied. "Now put in your hand, and take out the money." Sam did so. The doctor counted the bills. "Here are only nine dollars," he said. "Take out the rest." "There isn't any more," said Sam. "Don't attempt to deceive me," said his employer, sternly. "It will be the worse for you if you do." "There isn't any more," persisted Sam, earnestly. "If you don't believe it, you may look yourself." Dr. Graham did so, and found the statement correct. "There were twenty dollars in the letter," he said, sternly. "What has become of the other eleven?" There was no use in persisting in denial further, and Sam made a virtue of necessity. "Jim got half the money," he confessed. "Who's Jim?" "Jim Nolan." "How came he to get half the money? Did you owe it to him?" For the first time it struck Sam that he had been a fool to give away ten dollars without adequate return. All that Jim had given him was bad advice, which is never worth taking. "I don't know how I came to give it to him," said Sam. "It was he who wanted me to take the money. I wouldn't have done it but for Jim." "It strikes me," said Mr. Clement, "that Jim is not a very desirable companion. So you gave him ten dollars?" "Yes, sir." "Did you spend any of the money?" asked Dr. Graham. "Yes, sir." "In what way?" "I went in with Jim, and played a game of billiards." "Paying for the game with my money?" "Yes, sir." "What else?" "Jim took me into a drinking-place, and treated me to a whiskey-punch." "Also with my money, I suppose." "Yes, sir; he wanted to get the ten-dollar bill changed." "Was this in Brooklyn or New York?" "In Brooklyn." "Upon my word, very well planned. So you expected me to believe your story about having your pocket picked. Did you?" "Yes, sir." "A pretty story, Mr. Clement," said the doctor, turning to his friend. "What would you advise me to do, arrest the boy?" "Oh, don't," implored Sam, turning pale; "I'll never do it again." "You won't have the chance," said the doctor, drily. "If you ask my advice," said Mr. Clement, "I will give it. I suspect this Jim is the worse boy of the two. Now he's got ten dollars of your money." "Yes, sir." "Do you mean to let him keep it?" "He's spent part of it by this time." "You can get the rest back." "How? I don't know the boy." "You know his name. The Superintendent of the Newsboys Lodging House could probably put you on his track. Besides, your boy here can help you." "I don't know but you are right." "Sam," said Mr. Clement, "are you willing to help Dr. Graham get back his money?" "I don't like to get Jim into a scrape," said Sam. "It seems he's got you into a scrape. It is your only chance of escaping being sent to Blackwell's Island." "Will Jim be sent there?" "That depends on the doctor. If this Jim will give back what he has of the money you gave him, and agree to give back the rest as soon as he earns it, I think the doctor will let him off." "Then I'll do what I can," said Sam. "As for you," said the doctor, "I shall retain these nine dollars; also the four I was to have paid you to-morrow. If I get back the full amount from your confederate, I will pay you the difference. Now how can you get at this Jim?" "He'll be somewhere around City Hall Park," said Sam. "You may go in search of him. Tell him to come to this office with you. If he don't come he will be arrested, and I will have no mercy upon him. If you undertake to play me false, the same fate awaits you." "Don't be afraid," said Sam. "I'll come back, honor bright!" "Do you think he will?" asked Dr. Graham, turning to Mr. Clement. "Yes, for he knows it wouldn't be safe for him to stay away." "Go away, then, and come back as soon as possible." Sam made all haste to the City Hall Park, where he expected to find Jim. He was not disappointed. Jim was sitting on one of the steps of the City Hall smoking a cigar. He had the air of a gentleman of leisure and independent income, with no cares to disturb or harass him. He did not see Sam till the latter called him by name. "Where'd you come from, Sam?" he asked, placidly. "From the office." "Did the boss make a row about the money?" "You bet he did!" "Ho didn't find out, did he?" "Yes, he did." Jim looked up now. "He don't know anything about me does he?" he inquired. "I had to tell him." "That's mean!" exclaimed Jim. "You'd ought to be ashamed to tell on a friend." "I had to. There was a chap--a friend of the doctor's--that was on the boat, and heard us talkin' about the money. He followed us, and saw me stuff the money in my stockin'." Jim indulged in a profane ejaculation. "What's he goin' to do about it?" he asked. "He's made me give up the money, and he's sent me for you." "I won't go," said Jim, hastily. "You'd better. If you don't, you'll be took up." "What am I to go to the office for?" asked Jim, rather startled. "To give up the money." "I've spent two dollars." "If you give up what's left, and agree to pay the rest, he'll let you off." "Did he say so?" "Yes, he told me so." If there had been any hope of escaping with the money, Jim would have declined calling on Dr. Graham; but of that he knew there was little chance. Indeed, he was not altogether unknown to the police, having, on two or three previous occasions, come under their notice. So, considerably less cheerful than before, he accompanied Sam to the office. "Is this the boy?" asked the doctor, surveying Sam's companion attentively. "Yes, sir." "I am glad to see you, young man," said the doctor, drily. "Suppose we settle money matters first of all. How much have you left?" Jim drew out eight dollars in bills. "So far, so good. You owe me two dollars." "Yes, sir." "I won't ask for your note of hand. I'm afraid I couldn't negotiate it; but I expect you to pay me back the balance by instalments. If not, I shall know where to lay hold of you." Jim had nothing to say. "Now you can go. Sam, you can stay." "I suppose he's goin' to send me off," thought Sam. "You may stay till to-morrow night, Sam," said the doctor, "and I will pay you what balance I owe you. After that, I think we had better part company. You are a little too enterprising for me." Sam made no objection. In fact, he had got tired of the confinement, and thought it would be an agreeable variety to return to his old life again. The next evening, therefore, he retired from professional life, and, with a balance of fifty cents in his possession, set up once more as a street vagabond. When Jim Nolan paid up his indebtedness, he would be entitled to two dollars more. Until then he was held for the debt of his confederate. _ |
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