The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1880-06-09
The Story of a Thief.
BY EBEN Z. REXFORD.

BY EBEN Z. REXFORD.
The last recitation of the day was over in
the old academy among the NAPLES, on the
hill, and the boys and girls were gathered in
the chapel to listen to an anOouncent which
Professor Leith had told them he wished to
make to them.
The room was filed with the buzz of eager
voices when he came in. Curiosity to know
what the coming announcement was about
was on the alert Some thought one thing,
and some another, and all of them agreed
that they,,didn't know anything about it, but
they'd soon find out. now that he was here.
So a silence fell, and he said:
"This wear, we have decided to offer a
prize for good scholarship. To the student
ranking highest in each class, we shall give
something of practical value as a reward for
his or her diligence and application. In the
graduating class, the prize will be a set of
books, to the value of S25, the selection to be
left to the fortunate student, from any in our
library. There are several members of this
class whose standing is SO nearly alike that
the reward can not be made on that alone,
but will be determined by the excellence of
the essays they prepare for the graduation
exercises"
Paul Raynor did not listen to what Profess
sOr Leith said after that. He was member
of the graduating class, and he knew that he
stood as well as any one in it. He had only
one thing to do in order to secure the prize
and that was to furnish the best essay.
But could he do it.
There was William Archer. His scholar
ship ranked as high as PauIs, and he was a
fine writer. His essays were always of a
high character. He would try, of course, to
Guido any former achievements in that line,
ID. Il L. -, ho lie
liked to-his chance for the prize was good;
better than his he felt sure.
But he would not give it up without
mighty effort Not hel He would decide on
subject that very night, and he would write
il up with more care and thought than he had
ever given to an essay before He would work
on it until he felt sure he could make it no
better, and-the judges would decide the rest
on graduation day.
He was fond of books. He liked to read
them, and he had always had desire to own
a good selection. Some day he meant to
have library. If he carried off the prize,
he would have the nucleus of one. Why,
S25 worth of books would be quite library
in itself.
He went home with dozens of subjects
running through his head. No sooner had
he half decided on one, than another would
only knew which he could do the best With
1t seemed to him, when he thought of it
afterward, as if the temptation to which he
yielded had been prepared for him, and was
only waiting for this opportunity. For never
until that evening had he CHANGED to come
upon the yellow bundle of old essays which
ne found in the bookcase when he went
there to find book which he wished to con-
suit.
II wonder what these are?" he said, as he
united the string that held them together.
"Some of Uncle Harry's essays when he was
in college, guess, for here is his name, and
Harvard, 1S40.' I'll look them over. and
see how he used to write"
So he took the essays to his room and sat
down to examine them. There were six of
them. All were good, but one was much
better than the others. Paul read it over
twice, with sense of envy in his breast.
sOh, if could only write such an essay
as that now, I'd be sure of the prize" he
said. Il wonder
And then he stopped and looked out of the
window for a long time. What he was won
dering about, was, if he could not use this
essay as his own. No one would know that
it was net his own work. How should they2
These papers had probably been hidden in
the bookcase ever since his uncle came home
from college. 1t would be the easiest thing
in the world to pass it off as original with
himself
But there was the dishonesty involved in
the transaction To palm off this essay as
his own would be to steal the property of
another. Other brains than his had given
birth 10 it. He had no more right to use it
than he had to lay claim to the farm across
the road. But there was no one to dispute
his right to it. No one would know
OF oil dangerous excuses for wrORg-doing
is there more foolish one than that? Doesn't
God know2 And didn't he know2
If no one else suspected him of being a
thief, his own conscience would accuse him,
and to be arranged by ones conscienc is worse
than to be accused by our fellow-men.
, He did not yield wholly to the temptation
that night. He went to bed undecided as to
what to do. He dreamed about it all night.
1t was the first thing he thought of when he
woke up in the morning.
he read the essay over again. 1t seemed
better than on first reading. 1t was certainly
better than anything Will Archer could write
II he used it, he need not be afraid of losing
the prise-that was certain.
He did not give way TO the tenpter who
was whispering plausible lies in bis ear until