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Updated: May 3, 2025
As he started to put the bill into his pocket the thought came to him that Kate and the baby were suffering. All the way home he battled with his conscience, striving to convince himself that Delapere had not dropped the note, that it belonged to him by virtue of discovery, and that he deserved it if any one in the world did. At last there came a solution.
He saw but one solution and it came rushing along with the reawakened thoughts, firing his soul with jealousy. Joe Delapere had been providing his wife with money he could not be mistaken. Horrible! Horrible! But back came her answer, equally severe, and if as from a sudden recollection, also: "Where did you get it?" "Get what? he demanded, harshly. Joe Delapere! Joe Delapere!
Selecting a bill, he handed it to the driver and sprang into the cab. To his box climbed the well-urged driver, crack went his whip and once more the boon companions went their different ways in different fashion. But as Delapere thrust his purse back into his coat pocket something fluttered to the gutter.
With inconsiderate swiftness came the memory of the days when he and the same Joe Delapere had been rivals for her love, both rich and influential. She had chosen the one who bore her down; perhaps now she was regretting the choice in a heart that longed for the other.
The moisture that came into his tired eyes as he walked dejectedly along, however, was not caused by the wind. It came from the cells of shame, disconsolation and despair. Ahead of him on the busy thoroughfare walked an old-time friend, Joe Delapere. But a few years ago they had been boon companions, running the same race, following the same course together.
That was the difference between their ways of looking at the world. Delapere stepped to the edge of the sidewalk and hailed a cab, a sudden and increasing flurry of snow changing his desire to walk into the necessity of riding. Cabby came dashing up and Joe pulled forth his well filled purse. "Get me to No. Morton avenue in five minutes and another dollar is yours. Be brisk, now!"
Joe Delapere that lover of old filled his brain like a raging fire. "You know what I mean, Digby Trotter what is it that you mean? Where did you get that ten dollars you had in your pocket today?" "Oh, heaven!" gasped Digby, almost falling over. Then he burst into rapturous laughter, and, right there on the sidewalk, embraced her vigorously.
It all seemed so natural that he should take home a turkey, the cranberries and all the little "goodies" that his spare table required to make it strain with surprise on the glad day- tomorrow. Digby forgot that he had lost the bill, forgot that Kate had treated him so strangely, forgot that but an hour ago he had been lamenting the wrong he was doing Joe Delapere in spending his money.
"I'll take home the turkey, the toys and the shawl to them. They shall have them if Delapere never sees his money again if Kate never kisses me again in her life. I'll tell her the truth about the money!" Nevertheless it was with a guilty feeling that he ran his hand into his trousers pocket to fondle the bill.
"Joe Delapere dropped it as he was getting into a carriage yes, he did, now and he drove off before I could pick it up and return it to him. I kept the money, intending to give it back to him. That's true, dear so help me God. Don't you believe me?" He was very, very much in earnest, but she was woman enough to question further. "Why didn't you tell me of this before?"
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