Try and Trust; Or, Abner Holden's Bound Boy

“Didn’t I offer to divide with you?”

“Yes, but, of course, I would not agree to that.”

“Are you so much better than common folks?” sneered the burglar.

“I don’t know about that. I would not steal.”

“Take him up,” said the landlord to the hotel servants. “He don’t deserve it, but I’ve promised the old gentleman we’d see to him. Tom White, you may go for the doctor.”

Two men approached and attempted to lift the wounded burglar. But, in the first attempt, they touched the injured shoulder. He uttered a shriek of pain, and exclaimed, “You’ll murder me!”

“Let me lift him,” said Herbert. “Perhaps you were too rough.”

At length, but not without much groaning on the part of the burglar, he was got into the house, and laid on a bed in a small room on the first floor.

“Do you feel better?” asked Herbert.

“A little.”

“Do you think you have broken any bones in falling?”

“I thought so at first, but perhaps I am only bruised.”

“When the doctor comes, he will extract the bullet, and relieve you of a good deal of your pain.”

“You are a strange boy,” said the burglar, with a look of surprise.

“Why am I?”

“You shot me, and yet you pretend to be sorry for me now.”

“So I am.”

“Then, why did you shoot me?”

“I have already told you. Because I was obliged to. I would not have done it, if there had been any other way. I shot the first barrel in the air.”

“By accident?”

“No; I thought it would alarm you, and I might save the money without injuring you.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t have any ill-will against me now?”

“No.”

“That is strange.”

“I don’t know why it should be.”

“I suppose I ought to hate you, because you have brought me to this pass,” said the burglar, thoughtfully, “but I don’t. That is strange, too.”

“I am so glad you feel so,” said Herbert. “I am very sorry for your pain, and I will do what I can to relieve it.”

“I have no money to pay the landlord and the doctor.”

“Mr. Carroll says he will pay all needed expenses.”

“The man I wanted to rob?”

“Yes.”

“Then hang me, if I ain’t ashamed of trying to rob him,” said the burglar, earnestly.

“Have you ever robbed anyone before?”

“No, I haven’t. I’m a rough customer, and have done plenty of mean things, but this is the first job of the kind I ever attempted. I wouldn’t have done it, only I heard the old man say in the cars, that he had a lot of money with him. I was hard up, and on my way to Cedarville, to try to get work, but when I heard what he said, the devil tempted me, I believe, and I determined to keep you both in sight, and get out where you did. I’ve tried and failed, and that’s the end of it. It’s my first attempt at burglary.”

“I hope it will be the last.”

“You may bet your life on that!”

“Then,” said Herbert, quietly, “I will intercede with Mr. Carroll for you, and ask him not to have you arrested.”

“Will you do that?” asked the wounded man, eagerly.

“I promise it.”

“If you will, boy, I will bless you, and if God would listen to such a scamp as I am, I’d pray for you.”

“He will listen to you,” said Herbert. “Try to lead a better life, and He will help you.”

“I wish I’d met with such as you before,” said the burglar. “I’d have been a better man than I am.”

Here the doctor entered, and Herbert gave place to him. The wound was discovered not to be serious, and, the bullet being extracted, the sufferer found relief. Herbert returned to bed, and this time, having no anxious thoughts to weigh upon his mind, he soon sank into a refreshing sleep, in which the fatigues and excitements of the day were completely forgotten.

CHAPTER XXI

HERBERT’S REWARD

“I owe the safety of my money to you, my brave boy,” said Mr. Carroll, the next morning, as, after rising, he replaced the package of bank notes in his carpet-bag.

“I only did my duty,” said Herbert, but his face flushed with pleasure at the commendations bestowed upon him.

“But in doing your duty, you displayed a courage and fidelity rare in one of your age.”