But he smiled to himself, at his own penetration, I suppose, and when we were back in the court room that dreaded sentence fell from his lips like a shot,—"Officer, the prisoner is discharged."
"I knew he was innocent!" the young lady exclaimed the next instant.
"But, Judge, where is the purse and my friend Worden's fur coat?" the old gentleman protested.
"You don't see them about him, do you, Doctor?" the judge inquired blandly. Then he turned to me: "Edward, I think that you have told me an honest story. I hope so."
He took a coin from his pocket.
"Here's a dollar, my boy. Buy a ticket for as far as this will take you, and walk the rest of the way home."
"I guess I have come to Chicago to stay," I answered. "They aren't breaking their hearts over losing me down home."
"Well, my son, as you think best. In this glorious Republic it is every man's first privilege to take his own road to hell. But, at any rate, get a good dinner to start on. We don't serve first-class meals here."
"I'll return this as soon as I can," I said, picking up the coin.
"The sooner the better; and the less we see of each other in the future, the better, eh?"