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.
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