Samuel the Seeker

by Upton Sinclair

The boy was silent, stricken with awe. “Oh, Samuel, it is just like in the fairy stories!” whispered the child. “You are to be the prince!”

So she went on, pouring out the wonder of it to him, and thrilling his soul to yet new flights.

He left her at last and walked down the street half dazed. He was to marry Miss Gladys! Yes, it must be true, for she had told him that she loved him! And then, presumably, he would come to live in that great palace. How could he ever stand it? What would he do?

And he would be a rich man! A great surge of triumph came to him. What would the people at home say—what would his brothers think when he went to pay them a visit, and perhaps to buy the old place?

But he put these thoughts away from him. He must not think of such things—it was selfish and ignoble. He must think of the good that he would be able to do with all the money. He might help the poor at last. He and Miss Gladys would devote their lives to this. Perhaps some day he might even own the mill where the children worked, and he would be able to send them all to school! And he would be a member of the Lockman family, in a way—he might even have some influence over Master Albert! And Ethel and Dr. Vince—how happy they would be when they heard of his good fortune!

In the end his thoughts left all these things, and came back to Miss Gladys. After all, what counted but that? She loved him! She was his! And like a swiftly spreading fire there came over him the memory of what he had done to her; he walked on, trembling with wonder and fear. It was a kind of madness in his blood. It had taken possession of his whole being—he would never again be the same! He stretched out his arms as he walked down the street, because his emotions were greater than he could bear.

Then suddenly, in the midst of the turmoil, a sight met his eyes which brought him back to the world. Approaching him, about to pass him, was an old man with a gray beard, stooping as he walked and carrying a peddler's basket. The disguise was excellent, but it did not deceive Samuel for an instant. He stood stock-still and cried in amazement: “Charlie Swift!”

The peddler shot a quick glance at him. “Shut up!” he muttered; and then he passed on, and left Samuel staring.

So with a sudden rush, a new set of emotions overwhelmed the boy. He was only a week away from the burglary; and yet it was an age. And how terrible it seemed—how almost incredible! And here was he, about to marry the daughter of a millionaire—while his friend and confederate was still skulking in the shadows, hiding from the police.

Of all the distressed people whom Samuel had met in the course of his adventures, Charlie Swift was the only one whom he had not benefited. And simply to set eyes upon him was to hear in his soul a new call. How could he pursue his own gratifications while Charlie was left a prey to wickedness?