Weekly Calaveras chronicle., 1868-10-03

acting hitherto gradually subsided, and
Dick sat looking. at the captain, who
had sunk into peaceful, natural sleep.
with sense that he had taken good
deal on his own shoulders for a man
whom he never saw before in his life.
But Dick was not man to draw back.
He had promised to help, and help he
would, come what might. At length
the sleeper awoke, and raising himself
on one elbow, looked anxiously at the
student.
"You do not know whom you have
helped" said the captain, rising
"You do not suspect that you have
thrown away your goodness on felon. :"
ga felop p said Dick, involuntarily
Withdrawing step or two from him.
"What do you mean?" "Mean," said
the other bitterly, Il mean that, not
content with having ruined my poor,
sweet, uncomplaining wife by gambling,
when the day of payment was at hand,
1 forged my uncle's name! !"
There was pause. Dick was aghast,
and had not word to say. At last the
other resumed
"The bankers must have discovered
the fraud at once. I don't know by
what impulse, but instead. of waiting
for my messenger in the eating house,
where | had desired him to bring me
the cash for the check, | followed him
and watched him into the bank; that
saved me, for [ saw him come out
again shortly afterwards with a police
man and one of the clerks. | knew the
game was up, and that they were after
me. drew back into doorway, and
the policeman actually touched me with
his elbow as he passed. When they
were out of sight, l got into an omnibus
going in the opposite direction. I had
no plan of escape l could not think, l
felt i'll, and | continued to ride on and
on in sort of dream, until the omni-
bus stopped at the corner of some street
The conductor said that they were not
going any farther, SO l got out and
walked on, still without any settled idea
OF plan, and turned down this street,
l don't know why. The sight of the
bill in the window suggested to me a
plan of hiding, and a strange giddiness,
which | felt from time to time, made
me anxious to enter some house | had
money in my pocket, SO | determined
to take this lodging and lie quiet for a
few days till l could find some means
of sending to my poor wife. | trusted
to her to sell her remaining jewels, and
so get me off to California. | knew how
my uncle loved her, and that when once
should be away, he would take care
of her | know had vague hope in
my head that l should so get to the
gold fields, and perhaps make money
enough to clear myself by paying my
debts; but my brain felt confused, and
l remember nothing more till l awoke
in the dark, and then l saw you coming
in with the. candle in your hand. Now
you know all, and 1 do not expect you
to help me. You have right to give
me up-you have only been too good
already"
ale can't be all bad," said Dick, to
himself: che seems to have loved his
wife-he's very fine looking man l
wonder, if he went to California, wheth-
er he really would work and try to pay
his debts? Certainly the prison will
never reform him. Besides, who am l,
that l should sit in judgment? l
couldn't give him up now for the life
of me-cyery fellow ought to have a
chance"
'Listen to me-" he said, abruptly
going up to the captain. "You'll never
do any good by despising yourself
Swear to yourself to become new man; !;
swear to me by your poor dear wife and
your little innocent children, that you
will work night and day to pay your
debts and win back your good name. l
will not lose sight of them; and when
you write that you are worthy to have
them, they can be sent over to you
there"
"God bless you-God forever bless
you!" said the captain, seizing Dick $
hand. 81 do swear it, by all I hold
dear to me-"
"And now," said Dick, "we must be
doing You must first shave off all this
beard and moustache; see, here are my
razors make haste; and comb your
hair some other way Let me see, we
are nearly the same height; there's a
suit of clothes in this drawer" (poor
Dick had but two suits in the world,
and was recklessly giving away his best }
"Dress as quickly as you can, and re-
member that you are my cousin from
New Hampshire that II do for the peo-
Pile of the house. But In the name of
all that's awkward, what shall 1 put in
that confounded coffin? By Jove! it's
broad daylight! the men were to come
early to bury it. What on earth shall
we do p and for an instant he looked
round in despair.
81 have it!' he cried /; ''the skele-
ton! Come along old boy" he added,
dragging it out of its closet; 'you'll
get decent burial after all, you rogue
Then, taking it in his arms, he hurried
dowE stairs.
In few moments be returned, say
ing, II wrapped him neatly up, and be
looks very we'll, SO long as they don't
uncover him; but he's not half heavy
enough, and don't know what to put
in to make up. | know what I'll do;
I'll line the bottom of the coffin first
with books. Here, 1 say, captain