Walter Sherwood's Probation, Jr. Horatio Alger [best pdf reader for ebooks txt] 📗

The man who had just entered the reading-room was no other than Detective Green.

He nodded pleasantly to Walter.

“So you have put up here,” he said. “Well, it is a good place. And is this gentleman a friend of yours?” indicating the man in the white hat.

“I bought the watch from him.”

“Ha! I thought so. I see you know me, Steve Ashton.”

“Yes, sir,” answered Ashton, nervously. “I hope you are well.”

“You are very kind. Then you really hope I am well?”

“Of course. Why shouldn't I?”

“Well, there are some of your companions, I hear, who are not so cordial—Jim Beckwith, for instance. By the way, you have some business arrangements with Jim Beckwith?”

“I know him, sir,” answered Astern, hesitatingly. “You know him well, I suspect. So you sold my young friend here a watch?”

“Yes, sir.”

“At a remarkable sacrifice?”

“Yes, sir. It was worth more than he paid for it.”

“And yet it seemed likely to be a losing bargain for him. It would have been—but for me.”

Ashton looked at Walter inquiringly. The latter smiled.

“You gave me credit for being smarter than I was,” said Walter. “Mr. Green, here, came to my assistance.”

“I think, Mr. Ashton,” said Detective Green, with suavity, “that you have a wife and family in Dakota?”

“I, sir—”

“Yes; and it was to obtain money to join them that you sold your watch on the train?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Ashton, faintly.

“I am going to give you a bit of advice. It will be wise for you to go to Dakota, as you planned. This is a wicked city—in spots—and I am afraid you have been keeping bad company. How long have you known Beckwith?”

“About six months.”

“And he drew you into this business?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I thought so. You are new to the profession. Still, I knew you. I make it a point to get acquainted with the new men. Is the watch honestly yours?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get it back from Beckwith, and then drop his acquaintance. If necessary, leave Chicago. Have you a trade?”

“Yes, sir. I am a machinist.”

“It is a good trade. Go back to it. Is that advice friendly?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Ashton, with more confidence. “I didn't expect to get friendly advice from Detective Green.”

“Perhaps not. You didn't know me, that was all. You looked upon me as an enemy, I suppose?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I am an enemy to those who are incurably bad. I think you were meant for an honest man.”

“So I was, sir. I should be still if I hadn't met with Jim Beckwith.”

“Have done with him, then. If you follow my advice you need not fear meeting with me again.”

The detective went up to the desk, bought a cigar and then left the room, with a nod to Ashton and Walter.

“Will you follow his advice?” asked Walter.

“Yes, I will. Hereafter I will depend upon honest work for an honest livelihood. What is your name?”

“Walter Sherwood.”

“Then, Walter Sherwood, I am glad I did not succeed in robbing you. Yet I am glad I met you. It will lead to my reformation. Will you give me your hand?”

“Willingly.”

Steve Ashton shook the proffered hand energetically.

“If I can do you a favor at any time I shall be glad to do so.”

“Perhaps you can. I cannot afford to live at a hotel. Can you recommend me to some respectable but modest-priced boarding-house?”

“Yes. The widow of a machinist who used to be employed in the same shop as myself keeps a few boarders. I think she would take you for six dollars a week, or five if you have a friend to room with you.”

“Can you show me the place after supper—that is, unless you are in a hurry to start for Dakota?” He added, with a smile.

“I never was in Dakota in my life,” said Ashton. “I told you a lie.”

“I was beginning to think so.”

“But I shall drop all that. From this time on you can trust me.”

After supper Walter went round with Ashton to a house in Harrison Street—the boarding-house referred to. The door was opened by a careworn woman of middle age.

“How do you do, Mr. Ashton?” she said, with an inquiring look.

“Very well, thank you, Mrs. Canfield. Have you any rooms vacant?”

“Are you asking for yourself?”

“No, for my young friend here, Mr. Sherwood.”

“Do you want a large room or a small one?” asked Mrs. Canfield, brightening up a little.

“That depends a little on the price,” answered Walter.

“I can give you a hall bedroom and board for five dollars and a half a week.”