Part 37 (1/2)

Here the cas.h.i.+er signed to d.i.c.k to rise and show himself. Our hero accordingly did so.

”You will be glad to find that he has recovered,” said the cas.h.i.+er, pointing to d.i.c.k.

With an exclamation of anger and dismay, Travis, who saw the game was up, started for the door, feeling that safety made such a course prudent. But he was too late. He found himself confronted by a burly policeman, who seized him by the arm, saying, ”Not so fast, my man.

I want you.”

”Let me go,” exclaimed Travis, struggling to free himself.

”I'm sorry I can't oblige you,” said the officer. ”You'd better not make a fuss, or I may have to hurt you a little.”

Travis sullenly resigned himself to his fate, darting a look of rage at d.i.c.k, whom he considered the author of his present misfortune.

”This is your book,” said the cas.h.i.+er, handing back his rightful property to our hero. ”Do you wish to draw out any money?”

”Two dollars,” said d.i.c.k.

”Very well. Write an order for the amount.”

Before doing so, d.i.c.k, who now that he saw Travis in the power of the law began to pity him, went up to the officer, and said,--

”Won't you let him go? I've got my bank-book back, and I don't want anything done to him.”

”Sorry I can't oblige you,” said the officer; ”but I'm not allowed to do it. He'll have to stand his trial.”

”I'm sorry for you, Travis,” said d.i.c.k. ”I didn't want you arrested.

I only wanted my bank-book back.”

”Curse you!” said Travis, scowling vindictively. ”Wait till I get free. See if I don't fix you.”

”You needn't pity him too much,” said the officer. ”I know him now.

He's been to the Island before.”

”It's a lie,” said Travis, violently.

”Don't be too noisy, my friend,” said the officer. ”If you've got no more business here, we'll be going.”

He withdrew with the prisoner in charge, and d.i.c.k, having drawn his two dollars, left the bank. Notwithstanding the violent words the prisoner had used towards himself, and his attempted robbery, he could not help feeling sorry that he had been instrumental in causing his arrest.

”I'll keep my book a little safer hereafter,” thought d.i.c.k. ”Now I must go and see Tom Wilkins.”

Before dismissing the subject of Travis and his theft, it may be remarked that he was duly tried, and, his guilt being clear, was sent to Blackwell's Island for nine months. At the end of that time, on his release, he got a chance to work his pa.s.sage on a s.h.i.+p to San Francisco, where he probably arrived in due time. At any rate, nothing more has been heard of him, and probably his threat of vengence against d.i.c.k will never be carried into effect.

Returning to the City Hall Park, d.i.c.k soon fell in with Tom Wilkins.

”How are you, Tom?” he said. ”How's your mother?”

”She's better, d.i.c.k, thank you. She felt worried about bein' turned out into the street; but I gave her that money from you, and now she feels a good deal easier.”