We started back; had gone within the limits of the city when we met Warner, who anxiously asked where we had been. "We have been looking for you this hour," says Harris. "Come, now let us go into this shop and get something to drink before going to bed." Returned to the hotel; and, as we were going in, met the gaze of the lady whom Mr. Harris had robbed on the boat; this did not in the least tend to buoy up his spirits, but rather to discomfort him. Warner left the room a moment to see to his horses, when Harris took me by the hand, and hurriedly left the house.
We proceeded up the street with a quick pace, he looking each way, as if fearful of being pursued. Again we were met by Warner, whom we supposed had, ere this, retired for the night. Without the least embarrassment, Harris says "come, go with us and get a dish of oysters," and turned into a shop, as if this course had been premeditated. While eating, Warner, by his looks, appeared as if conscious that Harris was playing a game with him. An acquaintance of his speaking to him for a moment, took his attention. Harris noticing it, immediately left the house. Went a short distance, when stopping at a jeweller's shop, said "here lies my fortune." He stationed me on the corner of the street, with strict orders to give a violent cough should any one approach. Taking a large bunch of keys from his pocket, he tried to unlock the door, and had nearly succeeded, when seeing a person (one of the watch, I think,) coming, I walked towards the door, and gave Harris the signal; but not till I was sure he was near enough to detect some mischief; he dropped his keys, seized my hand, and ran fast as possible. The man being so near, noticed something out of order, and immediately raised the cry of "A thief! a thief!" The cry was echoed from street to street, and at each corner we found new hands to give chase; but we had no fresh hands to take the position we occupied. Harris finding the pursuit growing warmer each step, let go my hand. My motive-power being thus suddenly cut off, I fell to the ground. Before I could raise myself, I was jerked to my feet by the powerful arm of Warner, who said, "you young scoundrel, why did you not inform me of his rascality before? Where is Harris?" Giving me a shake, which took me from the ground, he said, "Well, you vagabond, I have you at any rate."
I was taken before a magistrate, who, after hearing their story, ordered me kept in close custody that night, and brought before him the next day at 9 o'clock. I was taken to the hotel. The lady, hearing of my situation, expressed a strong desire to see me. Warner, unwilling to loose sight of me, accompanied me to her rooms. She, recognizing me, welcomed me with a smile. Wished all the information respecting Harris I could give of his character. Farther than the few days I had been with him, I knew nothing, except from his own mouth. She expressed much regret that one so young should be found in such company, and besought me to refrain from the course of life he was evidently pursuing. Spoke of the loss of the $750 she had sustained, supposed to have been stolen by him on the boat. I assured her of the certainty of that, as he had acknowledged it to me but a few hours before. It being now near eleven o'clock, we retired for the night. I slept but little, as might be supposed, situated as I was. Without influential friends, and in fact without friends at all to care for me—in a land of strangers—viewed as a criminal awaiting justice,—I had only one source of consolation,—conscience favored me with her smiles. I knew I was guilty of no misdemeanor, farther than having been drawn in unwittingly by one who
——"A chosen villain was at heart;
And capable of deeds that durst not seek
Repentance."
I pondered well upon my situation and destiny, and resolved strongly, (as I many times did in after years,) could I but be extricated from my present difficulty, I would return to the home of my youth to wander no more. With the earliest rays of dawn I awoke, when, in the act of arising, I woke Warner, who, half suspecting I was giving him the slip, sprang from the bed with the greatest eagerness, saying, "Well, you are now going to run away, are you, you young scamp?" I, without the least degree of excitement, calmly replied, "I am not, sir, but I think it time we were starting; for one, I wish to know my destiny." Soon the bell called to breakfast. Warner spoke to the landlord, saying, "Please keep your eye on that boy while I take breakfast," not even thinking, I suppose, I should wish any. Soon as he had gone, I asked if I could have breakfast. "Certainly," says the landlord, with emphasis, who possessed soul enough not to give the pay the least thought. Showing me to the dining-room, he gave me a seat by Warner, saying, "Look after your boy, yourself, sir." Breakfast over, we went again to the bar-room. Warner called for his bill, saying, "I don't pay for his breakfast." "I don't wish you to, sir, I yet have money," was my ready reply; and the half suppressed laugh of the standers-by vexed and mortified him extremely. Nine o'clock came, and I was marched to the police office; and, after severe questioning, Warner was told I was not the man for him, as there was nothing appeared against me, except the fact of my being with him, (Harris.) I was ordered to be kept alone for a few days to see if Harris could not be taken, in which case I should be a valuable evidence. I was taken to the hotel, and confined on the second floor. About four in the afternoon, Warner came running in, half out of breath, saying, "Harris is taken, prepare immediately for the police office." I jumped for joy, went to the office; was asked if I could swear to the prisoner at the bar to be the one who hired the horses of Warner. I replied that I could. A bill being immediately found against him, we were ordered to prison, he as a criminal, and I as evidence against him, but to separate apartments. The next morning we were taken to the office again. I was ordered upon the stand, and made to tell what I knew of the late character of Harris. The statement of Warner and the lady confirmed the statements I had made. He was ordered back to jail to await his trial at a higher court which would sit in about three weeks; I to be kept as evidence against him at said court. After a few days, I was allowed the privilege of walking about the yard; and was very kindly treated by the family of the jailer. The time passed so pleasantly that it soon was time for the sitting of the court. We were taken to the court-house, where we found the lady, her son, and daughter, the owner of the watch, and Mr. Warner. The watch, the money, and the dulcimer, were also there, and recognized by real owners. My statements, confirmed by the others, proved a verdict of guilty to him; and, at the expiration of three days, he entered upon his sentence, which was seventeen years hard labor at Wethersfield prison. I was taken by the honorable judge, whose head was frosted over by the winter of age, to his own house. Tears ran down those furrowed cheeks as he, with a father-like simplicity, pointed me to the paths of rectitude, urging me to pursue them to the end—holding up to my mind the recent case of Harris as the reward of the evil doer. Gave me my living while I remained with him, and two dollars from his own purse, and besought me to return directly to my father's roof.
I retraced my steps towards home. Stopped with Warner a short time. Was most joyously welcomed home.
I remained with my father nearly three years, having but little desire to roam; finding at length the life of a factory boy rather unpleasant, I thought again to try my luck. I was near three years older than before, besides having the experience of the former cruise. I was quite sure I was then able to take care of myself. I went to Springfield, took stage for Albany, intending to ride as far as my money would carry me. I rode about forty miles and concluded to try it on foot; had proceeded but a little way when I fell in with a Caravan; I traveled with them for small wages; came to Albany, run one trip to Rochester on a line boat, took passage to New York on a sloop, arrived there with but twenty-five cents in my purse. I resolved to depend upon charity, as in fact I was obliged to do, for my small allowance would hardly be worth mentioning in the way of living. I met two frank looking young men in the garb of sailors, and knowing something of the true character of sailors, I made known to them my situation and solicited aid. They took me to a house kept by a widow lady and ordered for me all that my necessities required, and they would see the bills settled. I remained with this good lady a day or two, she doing all she could to make me comfortable and happy. Besides her naturally good heart, she had the remembrance of her only son being out upon the tempestuous sea of life to prompt her to deeds of love and charity, having, as she hoped, the assurance that all acts of kindness shown towards the unfortunate, would be repaid by similar deeds of love and care being shown to her son. Never can forgetfulness deprive me of the fond remembrance of this kind woman. The tears trickled down her cheeks as she bade me be a good boy and besought me as I loved the mother who gave me birth, to return to her and be a solace to her declining years.
I left her, resolved to go home, proceeded to the wharves, found a vessel going to Middletown, engaged a privilege of working my passage, went on board and shoved out from the dock, but soon found that instead of nearing home I was getting still farther from it, for instead of going to Middletown, Connecticut, we were bound to a place of the same name in New Jersey. I performed the voyage with a sorrowing heart. On our arrival I went from one vessel to another, but found none bound to New York. I then concluded to go on foot, and went on my way to Brown's point, so called, with a heart near bursting with grief. I went into a house occupied by a middle aged lady, asked for lodging, it being near night and very rainy. She said, "By your looks young sir, I perceive you have been weeping; unburden your grief to me, and if in my power, I will assist you."
I told her of my situation, of the great mistake I had made, and the state of my funds, having to depend upon charity entirely, and how long I knew not, knowing of no other way of getting home, except by going on foot. She kindly offered me a share of her humble fare as long as I chose, or till some opportunity for continuing my journey offered itself. She learned that a schooner loaded with wood would sail in a few days for New York in charge of her son, on which she engaged me a passage. I bade adieu to the kind lady when ready, and sailed for New York; prosperous winds brought a speedy termination of the voyage; the Captain gave me a dollar for my services and a home on his boat as long as we might both remain in port.
Again I tried to get a berth on one of the many vessels lying at the docks, and at each of them received the same answer, "you are a runaway boy, we have no place for you." I now resolved that home was the best place for me, at least for the present, though I was altogether unwilling to abandon wholly the idea of becoming a sailor; found an opportunity of getting to East Haddam, where on my arrival, I found work for two or three months, at the expiration of which time I again started for home; was received most joyously by my friends, who entreated me to return to my wanderings no more.