"You carried the joke too far, my friend," said Hiram, significantly.

"I'll take you round to the lock-up--by way of joke--and Judge Jones will sentence you to the penitentiary--just to help the joke along."

"Let me go!" whined the tramp, now thoroughly subdued. "I am a poor man, and that's what led me to do wrong."

"I suppose you never indulged in such a little joke before?"

"No; this is the first time."

"Probably you are a church member when you are at home," said Hiram, in a tone of sarcasm. "You're a good man gone wrong, ain't you?"

"Yes," said the tramp.

"You look like it. Such good men as you are better off in jail."

"I'll leave town and never come back--I will, on my honor!" pleaded the tramp, earnestly.

"I don't put any confidence in what you say. Ah, here's the rope. Now, hold still, if you know what's best for yourself."

The tramp attempted resistance, but a little vigorous shaking up by his captor soon brought him to terms. In five minutes, with his hands and feet firmly tied, he was on his way to the lock-up. Mr. Gregory and Walter accompanied him in the wagon.

"Now, Mr. Sherwood," said Gregory, when their errand was completed, "I want to thank you for your brave defense of my wife."

"I only did what any one would do under the same circ.u.mstances," said Walter, modestly.

"Any one of the requisite courage. You put yourself in danger."

"I didn't think of that, Mr. Gregory."

"No, I suppose not, but it is proper that I should think of it. You have placed me under an obligation that I shall not soon forget. You must do me the favor to come home to supper with me and pa.s.s the night. Will it interfere seriously with your business?"

"I am a life-insurance agent," said Walter, "or, at least, I am trying to be, but have not yet succeeded in writing a policy."

"I have been thinking of insuring my life for a small sum. If you come home with me you may talk me into doing it."

"Then I will certainly accept your invitation," said Walter, smiling.

"My wife made me promise to keep you. She wants to show her grat.i.tude.

Besides, you may be wanted to appear against the prisoner to-morrow morning."

"I shall be glad to help him to his deserts," said Walter. "The sooner he is locked up the better it will be for the community."

Walter had no reason to regret his acceptance of the invitation. Mrs.

Gregory exerted herself to the utmost in providing an appetizing supper, far in advance of anything he would have had set before him at his boarding-house, Mrs. Canfield being an indifferent cook. Generally her b.u.t.ter was strong and her tea weak, while the contrary should have been the case, and her biscuit heavy with saleratus. Walter thoroughly enjoyed his supper, and was almost ashamed of his appet.i.te. But it gave his hostess great pleasure to see his appreciation of the meal, and she took it as a compliment to herself as a cook.

After supper Walter and Mr. Gregory sat down to business. He explained the methods of the insurance company for which he was acting as agent, and found Mr. Gregory an interested and intelligent listener.

"You may write me a policy for a thousand dollars," he said.

"You will need to pa.s.s a medical examination," said Walter.

"Certainly; will our village physician do?" "Yes."

"Then take your hat and walk over with me. It is only half-a-mile distant."

The whole matter was adjusted that evening, and Walter was pleased to feel that he had made a successful start in his new business.

The next morning the tramp was brought before Justice Jones, who arranged to hold court early to oblige Walter and Mr. Gregory, and the prisoner received a sentence of a year's confinement. He gave the name of Barney Fogg, and under that name received his sentence. He scowled fiercely while Walter was giving his evidence, and as he was taken from the court-room handcuffed, he turned toward our hero and said: "It's your turn now, young bantam, but I'll be even with you yet."

"What a terrible man!" said Mr. Gregory, shuddering. "I hope I shall never see him again."

CHAPTER XVI

WALTER GOES INTO A NEW BUSINESS

One swallow doesn't make a summer, and one policy doesn't establish the success of an insurance agent. Walter received from Mr. Perkins five dollars commission on the policy he had written at Elm Bank, and this encouraged him to renewed efforts. But in the fortnight following he only succeeded in writing a policy for two hundred and fifty dollars, for a man who designed it to meet his funeral expenses. For this Walter received one dollar and a quarter. He made numerous other attempts, but he found, though he understood the subject thoroughly, that his youth operated against him. He decided that he was wasting his time, and one morning he waited on Mr. Perkins and resigned his agency.

"Have you anything else in view?" asked that gentleman.

"No, sir."

"Then why don't you keep on till you have secured another position?"

"Because it takes up my time, and prevents my getting anything else."

"I don't know but you are right, Mr. Sherwood. You have made a good beginning, and if you were ten years older I think you would make a successful agent."

"I can't afford to wait ten years," returned Walter, with a smile.

"If ever you want to come back, I will start you again."

Walter thanked Mr. Perkins, and left the office.

He now began to explore the columns of the daily papers, in the hope of finding some opening, but met with the usual rebuffs and refusals when he called upon advertisers.

At length he saw the following advertis.e.m.e.nt in the Chicago _Tribune:_

"WANTED--A confidential clerk at a salary of fifteen dollars per week.

As a guarantee of fidelity, a small deposit will be required. LOCKE & GREEN, No. 257 1-2 State Street."

"Fifteen dollars a week!" repeated Walter hopefully. "That will support me very comfortably. If I get it I will change my boarding- place, for I don't like Mrs. Canfield's table. I shall feel justified in paying a little more than I do now."

The only thing that troubled him was as to the deposit. Though he had economized as closely as he knew how, he had made quite an inroad upon his small capital, and had only forty-six dollars left. He had been in Chicago four weeks, and had not yet been able to write home that he had found a permanent position. He had written about his insurance agency, and had not failed to chronicle his first success.

This letter Doctor Mack had read to his housekeeper, Miss Nancy Sprague.