"You stole it, Harry."

"No, I didn't; I found it."

"If you don't return it to the owner, you will be a thief," continued the voice within.

"n.o.body will know that I found it. I dare say the owner does not want it half so much as I do."

"No matter for that, Harry; if you keep it you will be a thief."

He could not compromise with that voice within. It was the real Harry, within the other Harry, that spoke, and he was a very obstinate fellow, positively refusing to let him keep the pocketbook, at any rate.

"What am I about? She hoped I would be a good boy, and the evil one is catching me as fast as he can," resumed Harry.

"Be a good boy," added the other Harry.

"I mean to be, if I can."

"The little angel will be very sad when she finds out that you are a thief."

"I don't mean to be a thief. But this pocketbook will make me rich.

She never will know anything about it."

"If she does not, there is One above who will know, and his angels will frown upon you, and stamp your crime upon your face. Then you will go about like Cain, with a mark upon you."

"Pooh!" said the outer Harry, who was sorely tempted by the treasure within his grasp.

"You will not dare to look the little angel in the face, if you steal this money. She will know you are not good, then. Honest folks always hold their heads up, and are never ashamed to face any person."

"I don't keep it!" replied the struggling, tempted Flesh. "Why did I think of such a thing?"

He felt strong then, for the Spirit had triumphed over the Flesh. The foe within had been beaten back, at least for the moment; and as he laid his head upon the old coat that was to serve him for a pillow, he thought of Julia Bryant. He thought he saw her sweet face, and there was an angelic smile upon it.

My young readers will remember, after Jesus had been tempted, and said, "Get thee behind, Satan," that "behold, angels came and ministered unto him." They came and ministered to Harry after he had cast out the evil thought; they come and minister to all who resist temptation. They come in the heart, and minister with the healing balm of an approving conscience.

Placing the pocketbook under his head, with the intention of finding the owner in the morning, he went to sleep. The fatigue and excitement of the day softened his pillow, and not once did he open his eyes till the toils of another day had commenced around him. I question whether he would have slept so soundly if he had decided to keep the pocketbook.

But the tempter was not banished. He had only been conquered for the moment--subdued only to attack him again. The first thought of the treasure, in the morning, was to covet it. Again he allowed his fancy to picture the comforts and the luxuries which it would purchase.

"No one will know it," he added. "Why shouldn't I keep it?"

"G.o.d will know it; you will know it yourself," said the other Harry, more faithful and conscientious than the outside Harry, who, it must be confessed, was sometimes disposed to be the "Old Harry."

"No use of being too good. I will keep it."

"_She_ hoped you would be a good boy," added the monitor within.

"I will--that is, when I can afford it."

"Be good now, or you never will."

One hundred dollars!--perhaps five hundred! It was a fortune. The temptation was very great. But the little angel--the act would forever banish him from her presence. He would never dare to look at her again, or even to write the letter he had promised.

"Be true to yourself, Harry. Good first, and rich next."

"I will," exclaimed Harry, in an earnest whisper; and again the tempter was cast out.

Once more the fine air castles began to pile themselves up before him, standing on the coveted treasure; but he resolutely pitched them down, and banished them from his mind.

"Where did you lose it?" said a voice near the wagon.

"I don't know. I didn't miss it till this morning; and I have been to every place where I was last night; so I think I must have lost it here, when I put my horse up," replied another.

The first speaker was one of the ostlers; and the moment Harry heard the other voice he started as though a rattlesnake had rattled in his path. Was it possible? As the speaker proceeded, he was satisfied beyond the possibility of a doubt that the voice belonged to Squire Walker.

"Was there much money in it?" asked the ostler.

"About a hundred and fifty dollars; and there were notes and other papers of great value," replied Squire Walker.

"Well, I haven't seen or heard anything about it."

"I remember taking it out of my great-coat pocket, and putting it into a pocket inside of my vest, when I got out of the wagon."

"I don't think you lost it here. Some of us would have found it, if you had."

Here was a dilemma for Harry. He had determined to restore the pocketbook; but he could not do so without exposing himself. Besides, if there had been any temptation to keep the treasure before, it was ten times as great now that he knew it belonged to his enemy. It would be no sin to keep it from Squire Walker.

"It would be stealing," said the voice within.

"But if I give it to him, he will carry me back to Jacob Wire's. I'll be--I'll be hanged if I do."

"She hopes you will be a good boy."

There was no resisting this appeal; and again the demon was put down, and the triumph added another laurel to the moral crown of the little hero.

"It will be a dear journey to me," continued Squire Walker. "I was looking all day yesterday after a boy that ran away from the poorhouse, and came to the city for him. I had better let him go."

"Did you find him?"

"No. I brought that money down to put in the bank. It is gone, I suppose. Confound the boy!"

Harry waited no longer; but while his heart beat like the machinery in the great factory at Rockville, he tumbled out of his nest, and slid down the bale of goods to the pavement.

"Ah, Master Harry West! You are here--are you?" exclaimed Squire Walker, springing forward to catch him.

Harry dodged, and kept out of his reach.

"Catch him!" shouted the squire to the ostler.