“All right,” said Nevins, who, in telling his story, had regained a little of his cheerfulness. “You beat me fairly. And I’m glad the wreck didn’t happen. Now, if you gentlemen will permit me, I will bid you a fond adieu.”
“Good-bye,” answered Mr. Schofield. “Write me where you are, the first of the month, and the pay due you will be sent on to you. And if I were you, I’d let this experience teach me a lesson. You’re young yet. You can get back all you’ve lost. And remember, besides any question of right or wrong, it pays to be honest, to do right; for every one who is dishonest or does wrong is sure to suffer for it.”
“I’ve found that out,” agreed Nevins. “I don’t believe I’ll forget it,” and he opened the door, from in front of which Jack moved grudgingly, and vanished into the outer darkness. In that instant, too, he vanished from this story, for by daybreak he was speeding west toward Cincinnati. There he bought a ticket for Denver, and somewhere in the west, at the present day, he is no doubt living—let us hope honestly and usefully.
[CHAPTER XVI]
ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
The lamp seemed to shine more brightly and the air of the office seemed somehow clearer and cleaner when the door shut behind Nevins and the sound of his footsteps died away. Mr. Schofield arose and shook himself, as though to rid himself of some infection. Then he glanced at his watch. It was nearly midnight.
“It’s time I was getting back to town,” he said. “I’ve got to join the special again in the morning. Isn’t there an extra west about due here?”
“Yes, sir,” Allan answered. “There’s one due in about ten minutes.”