Dave Ranney | Page 6

my smoking habit, and I was a good judge of a
cigar when I was but fourteen years of age. I went on stealing them
until the boss tumbled that some one was taking them and locked them
up for safe keeping. I never smoked a cigarette in all my life. I know it
takes away a young fellow's brains and I really class cigarettes next to
drink and would warn boys never to smoke them.
I had been in the office now about three months. At the end of each
month I received a check for $12. It seemed a fortune to me and I hated
to give it in at the house. The third month I received the check as usual,
made out to bearer. Well, I went home and gave the check to mother,
and she said I was a good boy and gave me fifty cents to spend.
I watched my mother and saw her put the check in an unused pitcher in
the closet on the top shelf. It seemed as though some one was beside
me all the time telling me to take it and have a good time. It belonged
to me and no one else had a right to it, Satan seemed to say. And what a
good time I could have with it! They would never suspect me of taking
it, and I could have it cashed and no one would ever know.
So I got up in the middle of the night and started right there and then to
be a burglar. I went on tiptoe as softly as I could, and was right in the
middle of the kitchen floor when I stumbled over a little stool and it
made a noise. It was not much of a noise, but to me it seemed like the
shot out of a cannon. I thought it would wake up the whole house, but
nobody but mother woke, and she said, "Who's there?" I said nothing,
only stood still and waited for her to fall asleep again. As I stood there
a voice--and surely it was the voice of God--seemed to say, "Go back to
bed and leave the check alone. It is not yours: it belongs to your mother.
She is feeding and keeping you, and you are doing wrong." I think if
the Devil had not butted in I would have gone to bed, but he said, "Now
you are here no one sees you, and what a good time you can have with

that check!" That settled all good thoughts and I went up to the closet,
put my hand in the pitcher, took the check and went back to bed. That
was my first burglary.
Did I sleep? Well, I guess not! I rolled and tossed all the balance of the
night. I knew I had done wrong. But you see the Devil was there, and I
really think he owned me from the time I stole the cigars--"that little
beginning."
I got up the next morning, ate my breakfast and went to work. I still
had the check, and all I had to do was to go to the bank and get it
cashed. But I was afraid, and how I wished that the check was safe in
the old pitcher. I worried all that day, and I think if I had gotten a
chance that night after I got home, I would have put the check back.
But the old Devil was there saying, "You fool, keep it! It is not missed,
and even if it is no one will accuse you of stealing your own money." I
tell you, the Devil had me hand and foot, and there seemed to be no
getting away. Oh! if I could have had some person to tell me plainly
what to do at this time, it might have been the turning-point in my life!
Anyway, the check didn't get back to the pitcher. I had it and the Devil
had me.
Next day I disguised myself somewhat. I made my face dirty and put
on a cap. I had been wearing a hat before, so I thought the teller at the
bank would not know me. I had been there often with checks for my
boss. Well, the teller just looked at the check, gave me a glance, and
passed out the $12. It did not take me long to get out of the bank. I
knew I had done wrong, and I felt it, and would have given anything if
I could have undone it; but it was too late, and my old companion, the
Devil, said, "What a nice time you can have, and wasn't it easy!"
When I went home the first question was, "Did you