Leonard was not a thief, but the sight of the wallet tempted him, under the circumstances.
He had set his heart on buying a ticket in the gift enterprise, and knew of no way of obtaining the requisite sum--except this. It was, indeed, a little shock to him to think of appropriating money not his own; yet who would know it? The owner of the wallet was drunk, and would be quite unconscious of his loss.
Besides, if he didn't take the wallet, some one else probably would, and appropriate the entire contents. It was an insidious suggestion, and Leonard somehow persuaded himself that since the money was sure to be taken, he might as well have the benefit of it as anyone else.
So, after turning over the matter in his mind rapidly, he stooped down and picked up the wallet.
The man did not move.
Emboldened by his insensibility, Leonard cautiously opened the pocketbook, and his eyes glistened when he saw tucked away in one side, quite a thick roll of bills.
"He won't miss one bill," thought Leonard.
"Anyone else might take the whole wallet, but I wouldn't do that. I wonder how much money there is in the roll."
He darted another glance at the prostrate form, but there seemed no danger of interruption.
He took the roll in his hand, therefore, and a hasty scrutiny showed him that the bills ran from ones to tens. There must have been nearly a hundred dollars in all.
"Suppose I take a five," thought Leonard, whose cupidity increased with the sight of the money. "He won't miss it, and it will be better in my hands than if spent for whiskey."
How specious are the arguments of those who seek an excuse for a wrong act that will put money in the purse!
"Yes, I think I may venture to take a five, and, as I might not be able to change it right away, I will take a one to send for a ticket.
Then I will put the wallet back in the man's pocket."
So far, all went smoothly, and Leonard was proceeding to carry out his intention when, taking a precautionary look at the man on the ground, he was dumfounded by seeing his eyes wide open and fixed upon him.
Leonard flushed painfully, like a criminal detected in a crime, and returned the look of inquiry by one of dismay.
"What--you--doing?" inquired the victim of inebriety.
"I--is this your wallet, sir?" stammered Leonard.
"Course it is. What you got it for?"
"I--I saw it on the ground, and was afraid some one would find it, and rob you," said Leonard, fluently.
"Somebody did find it," rejoined the man, whose senses seemed coming back to him.
"How much did you take?"
"I? You don't think I would take any of your money?" said Leonard, in virtuous surprise.
"Looked like it! Can't tell who to trust."
"I assure you, I had only just picked it up, and was going to put it back in your pocket, sir."
The man, drunk as he was, winked knowingly.
"Smart boy!" he said. "You do it well, ol' fella!"
"But, sir, it is quite true, I assure you.
I will count over the money before you.
Do you know how much you had?"
"Nev' mind. Help me up!"
Leonard stooped over and helped the drunkard to a sitting position.
"Where am I? Where is hotel?"
Leonard answered him.
"Take me to hotel, and I'll give you a dollar."
"Certainly, sir," said Leonard, briskly. He was to get his dollar after all, and would not have to steal it. I am afraid he is not to be praised for his honesty, as it seemed to be a matter of necessity.
"I wish he'd give me five dollars," thought Leonard, but didn't see his way clear to make the suggestion.
He placed the man on his feet, and guided his steps to the road. As he walked along, the inebriate, whose gait was at first unsteady, recovered his equilibrium and required less help.
