“What is it?”
“Lend me a dollar till next week.”
In former days Carl would probably have granted the favor, but he realized the value of money now that he had to earn it by steady work.
“I am afraid it won’t be convenient,” he answered.
“Does that mean that you haven’t got it?” asked Leonard.
“No, I have it, but I am expecting to use it.”
“I wouldn’t mind paying you interest for it—say twenty-five cents,” continued Leonard, who had set his heart on buying a ticket in the gift enterprise.
“I would be ashamed to take such interest as that.”
“But I have a chance of making a good deal more out of it myself.”
“In what way?”
“That is my secret.”
“Why don’t you borrow it of your uncle?”
“He would ask too many questions. However, I see that you’re a miser, and I won’t trouble you.”
He left Carl in a huff and walked hastily away. He turned into a lane little traveled, and, after walking a few rods, came suddenly upon the prostrate body of a man, whose deep, breathing showed that he was stupefied by liquor. Leonard was not likely to feel any special interest in him, but one object did attract his attention. It was a wallet which had dropped out of the man’s pocket and was lying on the grass beside him.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Leonard’s temptation.
Leonard was not a thief, but the sight of the wallet tempted him, under the circumstances. He had set his heart on buying a ticket in the gift enterprise, and knew of no way of obtaining the requisite sum—except this. It was, indeed, a little shock to him to think of appropriating money not his own; yet who would know it? The owner of the wallet was drunk, and would be quite unconscious of his loss. Besides, if he didn’t take the wallet, some one else probably would, and appropriate the entire contents. It was an insidious suggestion, and Leonard somehow persuaded himself that since the money was sure to be taken, he might as well have the benefit of it as anyone else.
So, after turning over the matter in his mind rapidly, he stooped down and picked up the wallet.
The man did not move.
Emboldened by his insensibility, Leonard cautiously opened the pocketbook, and his eyes glistened when he saw tucked away in one side, quite a thick roll of bills.
“He won’t miss one bill,” thought Leonard. “Anyone else might take the whole wallet, but I wouldn’t do that. I wonder how much money there is in the roll.”
He darted another glance at the prostrate form, but there seemed no danger of interruption. He took the roll in his hand, therefore, and a hasty scrutiny showed him that the bills ran from ones to tens. There must have been nearly a hundred dollars in all.
“Suppose I take a five,” thought Leonard, whose cupidity increased with the sight of the money. “He won’t miss it, and it will be better in my hands than if spent for whiskey.”