"Now, Checkers," I said, before bidding him farewell, "you are about to begin a new life; be a man, settle down, and make some good resolutions."
"I have," he said. "It'll take me a year to live down those I have made already. Just think of Bessie Bisland running this afternoon and me with not a nickel on her."
"And, Checkers," I said, "you must school yourself to endure what may come, however unpleasant. Treat the old man well—it won't be for long; and remember what it means to you in the future. When you get your property, whether soon or late, keep it, or rent it, and live within your income."
"You bet I will," he replied, "and I believe I 'll hire three or four little sleuths to go round with me all the time, and see that nobody 'does' me."
"Have Judge Martin advise you," I said. "He doubtless knows the law; and write to me when you are settled—I shall be interested." I clasped his hand warmly in one of mine, and rested my other upon his shoulder. "And now good-bye, my boy," I said; "you have had a long run of hard luck, and I am glad that fortune is about to smile upon you again. Quit gambling; watch your opportunities and make the best of them as they come. Good-bye."
"Good-bye, Mr. Preston. What you say is no 'song without words,' and I 'll remember it. I have had hard luck, and, no matter what comes, I can never be as happy as I 've been in the past. But we all have our troubles, and I 'll try to make the best of things, like the old crone who had only two teeth, but she said 'Thank God, they hit!' Good-bye."
Again we shook hands and parted silently, taking opposite directions.
Ten days have passed, and I have not heard from Checkers—it is doubtless still a little early.
The morning after we parted I chanced to see in the paper that "Bessie Bisland" "also ran." It is quite as well, therefore, that Checkers did not defer his going, but went that night.