But James Barclay’s plans were frustrated in a tragic way. On leaving the house he met an old acquaintance who proposed to him to join forces in a burglary that evening. Barclay was at the end of his resources and readily agreed. He had so often got off scot free that he was disposed to underestimate the danger incurred. It was destined to be the last crime in which he was to take part. He was surprised at his work by a private watchman, and fatally shot dying almost instantly.
When Paul read in the morning papers the account of Barclay’s tragic end he was shocked, though he could not mourn for one whose life had been a curse to himself and all connected with him. To old Jerry his son’s death was a positive relief, as may readily be imagined.
[CHAPTER XXXVIII.
CONCLUSION.]
Three months passed, during which Paul faithfully attended to his duties as a telegraph boy. He was held in high consideration by the superintendent, who was very naturally influenced by the fact that Paul had made so many influential friends.
But the time was coming when he would no longer be Number 91.
One night he received a note signed Eliot Wade, asking him to call in the evening at the Albemarle Hotel. He presented himself promptly, and was cordially greeted by the young man from St. Louis, to whom he had rendered an important service.
“I am glad to see you, Paul,” said the young man.
“And I am glad you have not forgotten me, Mr. Wade.”