LED AWAY.
And what had become of Harry Hazeley in all this time? Let us go back a
little.
Probably all would have gone well with the lad, who was beginning to see
a new life stretching out before him under the sunny influence of his
sister, had his father lived.
While Mr. Hazeley exercised but little restraining power over his son
during his life, the fact that he had a father had considerable
influence over Harry. When Mr. Hazeley was killed, Harry realized that
he was thrown on his own resources, and the fact that he was subject to
no higher authority, took a firm hold upon him. At first, the idea
aroused in him an innate, but undeveloped manliness, and he determined
to stand by his mother and sister, and be a comfort to them as well as a
support.
But the inherent weakness in his character soon gained the supremacy,
and for the time over-ruled all his resolutions, which had been made in
his own strength.
It was inevitable that he should mingle with his companions in work, and
soon they gained an influence over him that was not for his highest
good. Being somewhat older than he himself was, they instilled into him
a false idea of their superiority, and it was by this means they
retained him in their "set"--a set of wild, dissipated young men.
Where was his judgment? Alas! he had inherited sufficient of his
mother's weak disposition to over-rule it, and consequently, he was one
of the kind most easily deceived and led.
One of the youths, whose name was Edward Hopkins, gained considerable
influence over Harry. He it was who persuaded him to leave his mother
and sister, and seek employment in another town, where, he said, work
could easily be secured, with shorter hours and greater pay. This seemed
very inviting to Harry, who, at that time, never thought of deserting
his home, but was anxious to earn more money, and thus become better
able to care for the family and have more for what he called
pleasure--cards and gaming and wine, for he had now become addicted to
the use of the latter, through whose insidious influence he was fast
losing his manly bearing.
Poor boy! How many noble men has Satan conquered and then cast off? How
many homes has he ruined, and hearts broken, and hopes destroyed?
But I am glad to say that I shall not be obliged to trace Harry Hazeley
to the bottom of the pit into which he had fallen, for God had most
graciously heard the prayers of his loving, trusting sister, who had
first set the example of prayer to the mother, who now frequently joined
her, and he was not permitted to reach its utmost depths.
True, he went down pretty far, and his rescue was effected by rather
severe means; but what mattered that, so he was saved?
After leaving home, Harry plunged into his new, reckless life, with a
strength that not only surprised, but very soon disgusted Hopkins, who
wished to preserve the appearance, at least, of a gentleman.
Harry had been able to secure a first-class, remunerative position very
readily, but so much went to satisfy his craving for excitement, that
none was left to send home to make life a little easier for Mrs.
Hazeley and Flora.
After a while, however, his increasing unsteadiness secured for him
dismissal from the shop where he had been employed. He was fortunate in
securing place after place, but unfortunate in being unable to retain
them, until at length he did but little work and a good deal of
gambling. The work he then did was around and about the saloons where he
had chances to game and drink.
One bitter cold night in December, a group of men stopped in front of
one of these places, and after some discussion, entered. It proved to be
Harry's stopping place, and he was sitting by the fire, for the time
being idle.
To look at the sunken cheeks, restless eyes, and uncared-for appearance,
one would never suppose this was the once straight, tall, active Harry
Hazeley, so greatly was he changed.
The leader of the group of young men who entered the bar-room appeared
to be attracted by the forlorn figure near the stove, as soon as he came
in. He seemed to know him, for presently he walked over to him and
tapping him familiarly on the shoulder, cried:
"Why, hello, old chap! How are you?"
Harry immediately recognized his old acquaintance, Edward Hopkins. He
did not appear particularly glad to see him, however.
"Say, old fellow, you don't seem ready to shed tears of joy at seeing
your old chum," remarked Ed, in a jovial tone, sitting down beside him.
Harry said nothing, but sat looking into the fire.
"Look here, now, Hal; you do look a little hard up. Haven't been getting
along so well lately, I guess?"
"No, I haven't," said Harry, without turning around.
"Well, listen to me," resumed Ed. "The old proverb, 'a friend in need is
a friend indeed,' is true, isn't it?"
"What of it?" questioned Harry, still apathetic.
"Just this," replied Ed, bringing his hand heavily down on his knee,
"that I'm going to be a friend to you now."
Harry smiled incredulously. His confidence in the friendship of such a
flashily-dressed fellow as Ed was, had been shaken.
"Come, don't be so glum, Hal. I've something to say to you," Ed
continued, glancing around the room.
His comrades were all occupied in another part of the room.
"Now," went on Hopkins, lowering his voice, "we fellows," nodding toward
the group, "are planning a little business. And if you want to, you can
help us."
"What is it?" asked Harry, indifferently.
Edward took no notice of his manner, but went on:
"Well, we're going to--er--ah--walk into a small establishment, you
know," and he winked slyly at Harry.
"Steal?" asked Harry, in a cold tone.
"If you like to put it that way, yes."
"Look here, Ed Hopkins," and Harry turned in scorn upon this
hypocritical friend, who seemed so desirous of ruining him entirely.
"Look here," he repeated, "let me tell you I don't want to share any of
your 'little plans.' I've fallen low, I know, but I'm not a thief yet,"
and Harry straightened himself up and looked with a flashing eye into
the crafty face beside him.
Hopkins was angry, as much because he had partially let Harry into his
secret, as because he had refused to join him. However, he congratulated
himself that he had not gone very far, and he left him abruptly, in a
high temper, going over to the group at the other end of the room.
A heated discussion was progressing there about something in connection
with the game of cards they were playing. They appealed to Hopkins as
he joined the group. This did not seem to add peace to the scene, for
the quarrel waxed hotter, and the voices grew louder.
Presently there was the sound of a scuffle, during which was heard the
report of a pistol. Immediately there was a stampede, and when the
officer, who had been attracted to the spot by the noise, rushed in,
followed by a small crowd of men and boys, no one was to be seen but
Harry Hazeley. He was lying on the floor by the stove, and gave no sign
of life as the officer rolled him over. Whether the pistol had been
fired accidentally or intentionally, nobody knew. The shot, however, was
certainly not intended for the one who received it. It was found on
examination that Harry was wounded in the side. He had also, in falling
struck his head against the edge of the stove, and cut it.
"Well," said the officer, "I guess we'll have to take this young fellow
to the hospital. From his looks he'll not be likely to have a better
place to go to, even if he could tell where he belonged."