"It was almost dark, yet the eager eye of the hungry boy saw what had
escaped the driver's.
"There, in that gutter, lay the surety against suffering for that and
many coming nights.
"He was about to rush forward and secure the prize--the lost
pocketbook--but caution whispered, 'Be sharp! you may be seen.' And
then, with the cunning and slyness of an old thief--thus suddenly
taught by keen suffering--he sauntered along, crossing the gutter,
stumbled and fell; then put out his hand, covered and secured his
treasure, slowly arose, and feigning a slight lameness, he retraced
his steps towards the depot, entered the waiting-room, which he felt
sure would be unoccupied at that hour. Getting behind the warm stove
and close to the dim lamp, he opened the pocketbook--gold! notes!
tens, twenties! over a hundred dollars met his gaze! When had he seen
so much? His--all his! Had he not found it? Possibly he might have
overtaken the owner and restored it, but what was the use of throwing
away good luck! But already Conscience was at work. Turning over the
notes he found a little silken bag. Opening it, he drew forth a
miniature painting of a beautiful little girl, and on the back was
written:
"'Our darling! three years old to-day.
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