The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg | Page 4

madam."
The old lady was afraid of the mysterious big stranger, and was glad to
see him go. But her curiosity was roused, and she went straight to the
sack and brought away the paper. It began as follows:
"TO BE PUBLISHED, or, the right man sought out by private inquiry--
either will answer. This sack contains gold coin weighing a hundred
and sixty pounds four ounces--"
"Mercy on us, and the door not locked!"
Mrs. Richards flew to it all in a tremble and locked it, then pulled down
the window-shades and stood frightened, worried, and wondering if
there was anything else she could do toward making herself and the
money more safe. She listened awhile for burglars, then surrendered to
curiosity, and went back to the lamp and finished reading the paper:
"I am a foreigner, and am presently going back to my own country, to
remain there permanently. I am grateful to America for what I have
received at her hands during my long stay under her flag; and to one of
her citizens--a citizen of Hadleyburg--I am especially grateful for a
great kindness done me a year or two ago. Two great kindnesses in fact.
I will explain. I was a gambler. I say I WAS. I was a ruined gambler. I
arrived in this village at night, hungry and without a penny. I asked for
help--in the dark; I was ashamed to beg in the light. I begged of the
right man. He gave me twenty dollars--that is to say, he gave me life, as
I considered it. He also gave me fortune; for out of that money I have
made myself rich at the gaming-table. And finally, a remark which he
made to me has remained with me to this day, and has at last conquered
me; and in conquering has saved the remnant of my morals: I shall
gamble no more. Now I have no idea who that man was, but I want him
found, and I want him to have this money, to give away, throw away,

or keep, as he pleases. It is merely my way of testifying my gratitude to
him. If I could stay, I would find him myself; but no matter, he will be
found. This is an honest town, an incorruptible town, and I know I can
trust it without fear. This man can be identified by the remark which he
made to me; I feel persuaded that he will remember it.
"And now my plan is this: If you prefer to conduct the inquiry privately,
do so. Tell the contents of this present writing to any one who is likely
to be the right man. If he shall answer, 'I am the man; the remark I
made was so-and-so,' apply the test--to wit: open the sack, and in it you
will find a sealed envelope containing that remark. If the remark
mentioned by the candidate tallies with it, give him the money, and ask
no further questions, for he is certainly the right man.
"But if you shall prefer a public inquiry, then publish this present
writing in the local paper--with these instructions added, to wit: Thirty
days from now, let the candidate appear at the town-hall at eight in the
evening (Friday), and hand his remark, in a sealed envelope, to the Rev.
Mr. Burgess (if he will be kind enough to act); and let Mr. Burgess
there and then destroy the seals of the sack, open it, and see if the
remark is correct: if correct, let the money be delivered, with my
sincere gratitude, to my benefactor thus identified."
Mrs. Richards sat down, gently quivering with excitement, and was
soon lost in thinkings--after this pattern: "What a strange thing it is! . . .
And what a fortune for that kind man who set his bread afloat upon the
waters! . . . If it had only been my husband that did it!--for we are so
poor, so old and poor! . . ." Then, with a sigh--"But it was not my
Edward; no, it was not he that gave a stranger twenty dollars. It is a pity
too; I see it now. . . " Then, with a shudder--"But it is GAMBLERS'
money! the wages of sin; we couldn't take it; we couldn't touch it. I
don't like to be near it; it seems a defilement." She moved to a farther
chair. . . "I wish Edward would come, and take it to the bank; a burglar
might come at any moment; it is dreadful to be here all alone with it."
At eleven Mr. Richards arrived, and while his wife was saying "I am
SO glad you've come!" he was saying, "I am so tired--tired clear out; it
is dreadful to be