“There are a great many people in Lockmanville
out of work,” said Samuel gravely.
“Oh! but they don’t come to my papa!”
said the child. “You must come and let
him help you. You must promise me that you will.”
“But how can I? I’ve tried to rob
him!”
“But that won’t make any difference!
You don’t know my papa. If you should tell
him that you had done wrong and that you were sorry—you
are sorry, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I’m very sorry.”
“Well, then, if you told him that, he’d
forgive you—he’d do anything for
you, I know. If he knew that I’d helped
to reform you, he’d be so glad!—I
did help a little, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” said Samuel. “You helped.”
“You—you weren’t very hard
to reform, somehow,” said the child hesitatingly.
“The little girl in the story had to talk a good
deal more. Are you sure that you are going to
be good now?”
Samuel could not keep back a smile. “Truly
I will,” he said.
“I guess you were brought up to be good,”
reflected the other. “I don’t think
you were very bad, anyway. It must be very hard
to be starving.”
“It is indeed,” said the boy with conviction.
“I never heard of anyone starving before,”
went on the other. “If that happened to
people often, there’d be more burglars, I guess.”
There was a pause. “What is your name?”
asked the little girl. “Mine is Ethel.
And now I’ll tell you what we’ll do.
My papa’s on his way home—his train
gets here early in the morning. And you come up
after breakfast—I’ll make him wait
for you. And then you can tell it all to him,
and then you won’t have any more troubles.
Will you do that?”
“You think he won’t be angry with me?”
asked Samuel.
“No, I’m sure of it.”
“And he won’t want to have me arrested?”
“Oh, dear me!” exclaimed Ethel with an
injured look. “Why, my papa goes to see
people in prison, and tries to help them get out!
I’ll promise you, truly.”
“Very well,” said Samuel, “I’ll
come.”
And so they parted. And Samuel found himself
out upon the street again, with the open sky above
him, and a great hymn of relief and joy in his soul.
He was no longer a burglar!
Samuel walked the streets all that night. For
he fully meant to do what he had promised the child,
and he did not care to go back to Charlie Swift, and
face the latter’s protests and ridicule.
At eight the next morning, tired but happy, he rang
the bell of Dr. Vince’s house. Ethel herself
opened the door; and at the sight of him her face
lighted up with joy, and she turned, crying out, “Here
he is!”
And she ran halfway down the hall, exclaiming:
“He’s come! I told you he’d
come! Papa!”
A man appeared at the dining room door, and stood
staring at Samuel. “There he is, papa!”
cried Ethel beside herself with delight. “There’s
my burglar!”
