He made some exertions to get from my grasp, but I held him firmly; waited a moment or two that the first flush of excitement might pass from him, and led him to a chair; gave him his history in brief; and in a short manner showed him how he was caught. Meanwhile the agent, at my request, was searching and counting the money in the purse which he picked up as I knocked it out of Worden's hands. "Here's another one hundred dollar bill with Bordell's card on it," said he. (The card was "Rufus Bordell, Optician, and Mathematical Instrument Maker, 173 Bowery, N. Y.," as my notes read. It was not an unusual thing in those days, though I always thought it a foolish one, for men to indorse all the new bills that came into their possession with their business addresses, as a mode of advertisement. Poor Mr. Bordell! He was an Englishman, and was making a trip to England to visit his relatives on board the ill-fated Pacific steamer in her last trip out, which went to sea, and was never heard of after.) Well, Worden saw that he was caught, and there was no escape for him. We found he had over three thousand dollars in money with him, and he agreed to go to New York with us and get what remained of the rest, which he said was all he had taken except six or eight hundred dollars, and he thought he could manage to raise that amount too, if I would not prosecute him. The vision of State Prison was too much for his nerves. He wanted to go unmanacled; and so I insisted on the agent's accompanying me to help watch him. However, he could never have got away from me alone, for I should have felled him at once to the ground had he tried, and I was sure he had not been in the business long enough, or done enough at it, to have "pals" to assist him. In fact, he said he never had any comrades in crime.
The agent arranged his affairs; sent word to the New York agent that he was suddenly called to New York, and would see him there the next day, and we left Baltimore for New York by the next train. The young man kept his promise to us; not only got the money left out of his robbery, but raised of a "friend," whom we all visited, seven hundred and ten dollars, which we found was the deficit; gave up the lottery ticket to the agent (who had the honor, however, to pay him back the sum he paid for the ticket), and we let him go.
I hardly know whether I ought to state what I am about to or not; but it may encourage some reader of this who may be inclined to a life like that which young "Worden" was then leading, to reform. "Worden" saw the situation of things, thanked us for our kindness, and begged me to never mention his real name. (I had not communicated it to the agent or to Mr. Latimer, and have never since told it to either or to anybody). He promised to reform at once, and go to work, however humble the situation. He did so, and in two or three years won his way back into his father's smiles, conducted business in New York for a while after that, and is now a prominent and wealthy man of Chicago. I met him not over ten months ago from this writing, and enjoyed his hospitality. "You saved me," said he. And that was all that was said between us about the robbery.
The Baltimore agent drew the prize for No. 1710, and it was none of the Lottery Company's business that he pocketed it.
When I carried the money back to Mr. Latimer, he was astonished, and insisted that I take the reward of one thousand dollars, which, as he was rich, I did accept. I never told him how we let the fellow escape, but satisfied him on that point.
"But," said he, "you haven't told me what you learned about how he got into the safe."
"No, for the scamp was in as much doubt about it as we; he thought that the lock turned easily, if it turned at all. He pulled, and the door came open, and afterwards, on looking at the key he tried it with, thought it curious that it could have raised the spring. Probably the safe was not locked."
"But how did he get in, and do it so secretly, my wife and I lying right there?" pointing to the adjoining bedroom.
"O, he says you were both snoring away so that nobody in the house could have heard him if he'd made ten times the noise he did."
"I—do—not—believe—it," said Mr. Latimer, with an emphatic drawl, and more seriousness of face than I had seen him exhibit over his loss even. "I never caught her snoring in my life. She says I snore sometimes. I'll call her, and tell her the story."