Sam looked out of the window, as almost everybody does in the country when a carriage passes.
"By thunder! It's the Reform School wagon!" exclaimed he.

"This way, boy!" and the good-hearted man thrust him into his chamber, bidding him get under the bed.
The carriage stopped at the house; but Sam evaded a direct reply, and the superintendent--for it was he--proceeded on his search.
"Heaven bless you, Mr.Ray!" exclaimed Bobby, when he came out of the chamber, as the tears of gratitude coursed down his cheeks.
"O, you will find Sam Ray all right," said he, warmly pressing Bobby's proffered hand.

"I ain't quite a heathen, though some folks around here think so." "You are an angel!" "Not exactly," laughed Sam.
Our hero finished his story, and confirmed it by exhibiting his account book and some other papers which he had retained.

Sam Ray was satisfied, and vowed that if ever he saw Tom Spicer he would certainly "lick" him for his sake.
"Now, sonny, I like you; I will be sworn you are a good fellow; and I mean to help you off.

So just come along with me.