THE BURGLAR'S STORY.

Evening Post, Volume XL, Issue 63, 13 September 1890, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE BURGLAR'S STORY.

Ono day, some yoars ago, I had occasion to seok an interview with a ■criminal, who was known to mo and -other detectives as one of the cloverout scoundrels of the day. He had only just come out of prison, but I know whore to find him. "Woll D.,"ho said, whon I on<tered the miserable looking attic, " havo you found Ottfc something else /against mo ? " "•Not this time," I replied; «1 como for information." "Is thut all?" he 'asked; "perhaps you may be* get what you •want." " I think 1 •shall," I roplied. "If I don't y&\ will bo the loser." " 1 font know what you aro driv>ingr tit," ho said, us ho sat staring at WO. "I will tell you. If you give me the information I seek, I promißO to give you a lift out of this misorablo stato of existence." " If you do bo, you will bo tho only man that ever did me a lift," be replied. I got the information, and in reply to my question, how fro became Buch a villain, he told nro his Btory. "Many years ago," he said, "I was a respootuble, honest young gentleman, happy and contented with my Hot. At thftt time I was respected by ■all. Though I was not very rich, I was far from being poor. The money father left mo when he died 1 invested und it brought me anteady income of three hundred a year. With that I waa satisfied, and wished for nothing more. I had plenty di friends (?), but only one relaCioft-^-an aged sister, who lived with me. I was single, and nil agreed that I ought to get married. My gentlemen friends called me soft-hearted, my lady friends said I was good-natured. This was hocauae I never could pass a beggar, b« he able-bodied or crippled, without relieving him. If there was a genuine case of poverty in the village I was always the first to subscribe to any good cause. My bosom friend, ISred. H — , though three times richer thaa I was, would never give a beggar a copper, and did not subscribe to other good causes half as much as I did. Frod. and I were great friends, «*nd nearly always together. We travelled about together, and passed most of our innocent •enjoyment. We "vtot-o hnppy in each other's friendnltip, » red together we went and did as wo wished at our own sweet will. With bands clasped, we swore a icriendship that nothing but death should break. Ono day he told me that he had met his fate. v She is the most beautiful young lady, in the world, and as good as she jB beautiful ! " he exclaimed, " I suppose you love already," I remarked. "I do'" he cried, "and I have lovod her from tho very moment we first met." v now long may that be ? " I asked. "A week ago." "Does she know—have you told her?" *' No ; but sho Boon will know." "I congratulate you," I said, ■when I saw he was so determined, *• and I hope I may soon find Buch another friend as you, or meet with your luck." A short time after he proposed and was accepted. He was a lucky fellow, for, ia my opinion, a more beautiful, good, and pure young lady never walked on the face of the earth. After that I did not see him often, and our happy trips were at an end. One day, about a week before he was married, as I was just entering a certain club I met him coming out. "The very man I wanted!" he criud, as he took my arm and lot! me inside tho building. "I have beeu playing at billiards all afternoon," he explained, " and I have won every game. I am going to play you a game and beat you. lam sure I can do it now, though I have never done it before. You must not rof use, because it may be the last game we shall have together, you know." " I won't refuse you," I replied, " but I think you will lose, as usual. I hope it will not be the last game together, for we can still be friends if you do get married." When we entered the billiard-room there was only ono gentleman in, a friend of outb, who consented to mark for us. The game was to be for drinks and cigars. I yon. Another game followed with the same result " I see how it is," he cried, as he dashed down his oue; "I cannot play for trifles. I will play you for a five-pound note." I stood amazed. I had never known him to gamble in any form for suoh a sum before. I refused to play. " Come on, you soft-hearted fool, and play. Be a man ! " he cried, getting exoited. His taunting words made me angry and I determined to play and teach him a lesson. We played for the note, and I won. We played again for double the amount and I still won. We had game after game, he doubled the stakes every game, and I won every time. When the clock struck ten I was as rich as my friend. " Reckon up the amount you have won from me," he said, " with your own riches, and tell me what you are worth." I did so, and told him the amount altogether. " We are about equal," he cried, " and I shall play you for all. This shall be our last game." I hesitated, for I know if tho game was played ono of us must become a poor man. " Not a penny will I pay you," he said, when he saw me hesitating, "if you don't play this game. At the same time I shall brand you as a coward." I determined to play. The game commenced, and he improved so much, and played with such skill, that I had great difficulty in keeping near his score. Towards the end of the game he got excited ; but I kept cool, and playod as if my life depended upon the result oi the game. Whon the game was called for the last time we were gamesters — 100 each; 101 up. It was bis last turn to play, and he had an easy shot on.

I laid down my cue, and prepared for the worst. As 1 watched him prepare to strike, I felt that my very life depended upon th« result. Trembling with excitement, he framed himself for the final. At last, after a moment °! a i» on y' stroke was given. He hit Bis own ball, but missed the Otter aj.d lost tho game. He sank upon a seat a ruined man. With his face buried in his hande, he sat sobbing like ft child. As 1 Btocfd watching him I felt as if I was a murderer. The scene greatly affected me, and I determined to help him. But before I could act upon my heart's impulse, an unseeu fiend sosmed to whisper in my ear. " Nover mind him ; lot him go to the dogs. It is all his own fault, and you are not to blame. Keop what you have, you have won it fairly. Don't give him anything, ho would not haye helped you." 1 resisted the wicked tempter, and a good angel caino to my aid with the words — " Be a man, a Christian, and do your duty." 1 wont over to him at once. " Fred.,'* I said, " don't give way like this ; I will be your friend." '• Too lato ; too lute," lie moaned ; " all is gone, and I am ruined for life. I want no friond ; I oniy want death." " Listen," I said, as I took his hand in mme — " If you will promise mo one thing, I will forego all that I j have won from you." I Ho looked up at me in 'dumb amazement. " You^-you do hoi meau it ! " he gasped. " I tartan what I say," I replied. " What niuet I promise '( " "If you will promise me never to gamble again in any shape or form as long as you livo I will give you back all that I have won." "I promise," he oriod, "never to gamblo again." " Then all is yours again," I said. " God bless you," he cried, trembling with emotion ; " you are indeed a trUo friend. You have saved me from ruination, perhaps death. I Bhall never forget this noble act of yours, and if ever you are in need of a friend, come to me ; you will not come in vain." A week after he got married, and his wife little knew what her husband had passed through a week before. They went to five abroad, and for years I lost sight of them. For a time all was sunshine with me, but at last came the darkest day of my life. One night I retired to bed a fairly rich man, but on the following day I rose aB poor as a beggar. The bank in which was my all had failed 2 For days after I walked aimlessly about in bewilderment. When the worst was over I began to study my position. I found it as bad as it possibly could be. I had not a shilling in the world. I had never learned a trade, and did not know what to do. Friends seemed to have forgotten me, for they all passed me by without a look or a word. None offered to give me a lift. I waa forced to seek shelter in a common lodginghouse. In the midst of misery I thought of Frod. H — 's words — "If ever you are in need of a friend, come to me, you will not come in vain," were the words that flashed through my brain, and sent a thrill of joy through my frame. I at once wrote the following note :—: — "Fred. H— ,— Dear Friend— l am almost starving, and greatly in need of a friend." I sent it to his last address in London, with hopes that he might have returned from abroad. To my great joy I received a letter two days after. On opening it I found it came from him. It read as follows : — " Dear Sib — I beg to acknowledge your note, but am sorry to say that I can afford you no relief. Fred. H." I will not attempt to describe my feelings when I had read the letter. Thinking there must be aome mistake I Bent him another letter and gave him full particulars. I reminded him of the scene in tho billiard-room and his words to me. By return of post I received his answer — " I havereceived your explanations but my first letter to you is my answer. Fred. H." From that moment I had no faith in any man. If the man who owed everything he possessed to me refused to help me, how could I expect other people, who owed m« nothing, to befriend me. That act hardened me and made me look upon scenes of the greatest distress unmoved. From that day I entered upon a criminal's career, and perhaps you know as well as I do how I have followed it up to the present time. At any rate, you know now why I am a criminal. I kept my promise, and 1 am glad to say that ho is no longer a lawbreaker, for he found a better friend than the one mentioned in " A Burglar's Story." — Leeds Mercury.