O. Henry
A Retrieved Reformation
A guard came to the prison shoe-shop, where Jimmy Valentine was assiduously
stitching uppers, and escorted him to the front office. There the warden handed
Jimmy his pardon, which had been signed that morning by the governor. Jimmy took it
in a tired kind of way. He had served nearly ten months of a four-year sentence. He
had expected to stay only about three months, at the longest. When a man with as
many friends on the outside as Jimmy Valentine had is received in the "stir" it is
hardly worth while to cut his hair.
"Now, Valentine," said the warden, "youll go out in the morning. "Brace up,
and make a man of yourself. Youre not a bad fellow at heart. Stop cracking safes,
and live straight".
"Me?" said Jimmy, in surprise. "Why, I never cracked a safe in my life."
"Oh, no," laughed the warden. "Of course not. Lets see, now. How was it you
happened to get sent up on that Springfield job? Was it because you wouldnt prove
an alibi for fear of compromising somebody in extremely high-toned society? Or was
it simply a case of a mean old jury that had it in for you? Its always one or the
other with you innocent victims."
"Me?" said Jimmy, still blankly virtuous. "Why, warden, I never was in
Springfield in my life!"
"Take him back, Cronin," smiled the warden, "and fix him up with outgoing
clothes. Unlock him at seven in the morning, and let him come to the bull-pen.
Better think over my advice, Valentine."
At a quarter past seven on the next morning Jimmy stood in the wardens outer
office. He had on a suit of the villainously fitting, ready-made clothes and a pair
of the stiff, squeaky shoes that the state furnishes to its discharged compulsory
guests.
The clerk handed him a railroad ticket and the five-dollar bill with which the
law expected him to rehabilitate himself into good citizenship and prosperity. The
warden gave him a cigar, and shook hands. Valentine, 9762, was chronicled on the
books "Pardoned by Governor," and Mr. James Valentine walked out into the sunshine.
Disregarding the song of the birds, the waving green trees, and the smell of
the flowers, Jimmy headed straight for a restaurant. There he tasted the first
sweet joys of liberty in the shape of a broiled chicken and a bottle of white
wine - followed by a cigar a grade better than the one the warden had given him.
From there he proceeded leisurely to the depot. He tossed a quarter into the hat of
a blind man sitting by the door, and boarded his train. Three hours set him down in
a little town near the state line. He went to the cafe of one Mike Dolan and shook
hands with Mike, who was alone behind the bar.
"Sorry we couldnt make it sooner, Jimmy, me boy," said Mike. "But we had that
protest from Springfield to buck against, and the governor nearly balked. Feeling
all right?"
"Fine," said Jimmy. "Got my key?"
He got his key and went upstairs, unlocking the door of a room at the rear.
Everything was just as he had left it. There on the floor was still Ben Prices
collar-button that had been torn from that eminent detectives shirt-band when they
had overpowered Jimmy to arrest him.
Pulling out from the wall a folding-bed, Jimmy slid back a panel in the wall
and dragged out a dust-covered suitcase. He opened this and gazed fondly at the
finest set of burglars tools in the East. It was a complete set, made of specially
tempered steel, the latest designs in drills punches, braces and bits, jimmies,
clamps, and augers, with two or three novelties invented by Jimmy himself, in which
he took pride. Over nine hundred dollars they had cost him to have made at - ,
a place where they make such things for the profession.
In half an hour Jimmy went downstairs and through the cafe. He was now dressed
in tasteful and well-fitting clothes, and carried his dusted and cleaned suitcase
in his hand.
"Got anything on?" asked Mike Dolan, genially.
"Me?" said Jimmy, in a puzzled tone. "I dont understand. Im representing the
New York Amalgamated Short Snap Biscuit Cracker and Frazzled Wheat Company."
This statement delighted Mike to such an extent that Jimmy had to take a
seItzer-and-milk on the spot. He never touched hard" drinks.
A week after the release of Valentine, 9762, there was a neat job of
safe-burglary done in Richmond, Indiana, with no clue to the author A scant eight
hundred dollars was all that was secured. Two weeks after that a patented,
improved, burglar-proof safe in Logansport was opened like a cheese to the tune of
fifteen hundred dollars, currency; securities and silver untouched. That began to
interest the rogue-catchers. Then an old-fashioned banksafe in Jefferson City
became active and threw out of its crater an emption of bank-notes amounting to
five thousand dollars. The losses were now high enough to bring the matter up into
Ben Prices class of work. By comparing notes, a remarkable similarity in the
methods of the burglaries was noticed. Ben Price investigated the scenes of the
robberies, and was heard to remark:
"Thats Dandy Jim Valentines autograph. Hes resumed business. Look at that
combination knob - jerked out as easy as pulling up a radish in wet weather. Hes
got the only clamps that can do it. And look how clean those tumblers were punched
out! Jimmy never has to drill but one hole. Yes, I guess I want Mr. Valentine.
Hell do his bit next time without any short-time or clemency foolishness."
Ben Price knew Jimmys habits. He had learned them while working up the
Springfield case. Long jumps, quick get-aways, no confederates, and a taste for
good society - these ways had helped Mr. Valentine to become noted as a successful
dodger of retribution. It was given out that Ben Price had taken up the trail of
the elusive cracksman, and other people with burglar-proof safes felt more at ease.
One afternoon Jimmy Valentine and his suitcase climbed out of the mail-hack in
Elmore, a little town five miles off the rail-road down in the black-jack country
of Arkansas. Jimmy, looking like an athletic young senior just home from college,
went down the board sidewalk toward the hotel.
A young lady crossed the street, passed him at the corner and entered a door
over which was the sign "The Elmore Bank." Jimmy Valentine looked into her eyes,
forgot what he was, and became another man. She lowered her eyes and colored
slightly. Young men of Jimmys style and looks were scarce in Elmore.
Jimmy collared a boy that was loafing on the steps of the bank as if he were
one of the stock-holders, and began to ask him questions about the town, feeding
him dimes at intervals. By and by the young lady came out, looking royally
unconscious of the young man with the suitcase, and went her way.
"Isnt that young lady Miss Polly Simpson?" asked Jimmy, with specious guile.
"Naw," said the boy. "Shes Annabel Adams. Her pa owns this bank. Whatd you
come to Elmore for? Is that a gold watch-chain? Im going to get a bulldog. Got any
more dimes?"
Jimmy went to the Planters Hotel, registered as Ralph D. Spencer, and engaged
a room. He leaned on the desk and declared his platform to the clerk. He said he
had come to Elmore to look for a location to go into business. How was the shoe
business, now, in the town? He had thought of the shoe business. Was there an
opening?
The clerk was impressed by the clothes and manner of Jimmy. He, himself, was
something of a pattern of fashion to the thinly gilded youth of Elmore, but he now
perceived his shortcomings. While trying to figure out Jimmys manner of tying his
four-in-hand he cordially gave information.
Yes, there ought to be a good opening in the shoe line. There wasnt an
exclusive shoe-store in the place. The dry-goods and general stores handled them.
Business in all lines was fairly good. Hoped Mr. Spencer would decide to locate in
Elmore. He would find it a pleasant town to live in, and the people very sociable.
Mr. Spencer thought he would stop over in the town a few days and look over the
situation. No, the clerk neednt call the boy. He would carry up his suitcase,
himself; it was rather heavy.
Mr. Ralph Spencer, the phoenix that arose from Jimmy Valentines ashes - ashes
left by the flame of a sudden and alternative attack of love - remained in Elmore,
and prospered. He opened a shoe-store and secured a good run of trade.
Socially he was also a success, and made many friends. And he accomplished the
wish of his heart. He met Miss Annabel Adams, and became more and more captivated
by her charms.
At the end of a year the situation of Mr. Ralph Spencer was this: he had won
the respect of the community, his shoe-store was flourishing, and he and Annabel
were engaged to be married in two weeks. Mr. Adams, the typical, plodding, country
banker, approved of Spencer. Annabels pride in him almost equalled her affection.
He was as much at home in the family of Mr. Adams and that of Annabels married
sister as if he were already a member.
One day Jimmy sat down in his room and wrote this letter, which he mailed to
the safe address of one of his old friends in St. Louis:
DEAR OLD PAL:
I want you to be at Sullivans place, in Littie Rock, next Wednesday night, at
nine o'clock, I want you to wind up some little matters for me. And, also, I want
to make you a present of my kit of tools. I know you'll be glad to get them - you
couldn't duplicate the lot for a thousand dollars. Say, Billy, Ive quit the old
business - a year ago. Ive got a nice store. Im making an honest living, and Im
going to marry the finest girl on earth two weeks from now. Its the only life,
Billy - the straight one. I wouldnt touch a dollar of another mans money now for
a million. After I get married Im going to sell out and go West, where there wont
be so much danger of having old scores brought up against me. I tell you, Billy,
shes an angel. She believes in me; and I wouldnt do another crooked thing for the
whole world. Be sure to be at Sullys, for I must see you. Ill bring along the
tools with me.
Your old friend,
JIMMY.
On the Monday night after Jimmy wrote this letter, Ben Price jogged
unobtrusively into Elmore in a livery buggy. He lounged about town in his quiet way
until he found out what he wanted to know. From the drug-store across the street
from Spencers shoe-store he got a good look at Ralph D. Spencer.
"Going to marry the bankers daughter are you, Jimmy?" said Ben to himself,
softly. "Well, I dont know!"
The next morning Jimmy took breakfast at the Adamses. He was going to Little
Rock that day to order his wedding-suit and buy something nice for Annabel. That
would be the first time he had left town since he came to Elmore. It had been more
than a year now since those last professional "jobs," and he thought he could
safely venture out.
After breakfast quite a family party went down town together - Mr. Adams,
Annabel, Jimmy, and Annabels married sister with her two little girls, aged five
and nine. They came by the hotel where Jimmy still boarded, and he ran up to his
room and brought along his suitcase. Then they went on to the bank. There stood
Jimmys horse and buggy and Dolph Gibson, who was going to drive him over to the
railroad station.
All went inside the high, carved oak railings into the banking-room - Jimmy
included, for Mr. Adamss future son-in-law was welcome anywhere. The clerks were
pleased to be greeted by the good-looking, agreeable young man who was going to
marry Miss Annabel. Jimmy set his suitcase down. Annabel, whose heart was bubbling
with happiness and lively youth, put on Jimmys hat and picked up the suitcase.
"Wouldnt I make a nice drummer?" said Annabel. "My! Ralph, how heavy it is. Feels
like it was full of gold bricks."
"Lot of nickel-plated shoe-horns in there," said Jimmy, cooly, "that Im going
to return. Thought Id save express charges by taking them up. Im getting awfully
economical."
The Elmore Bank had just put in a new safe and vault. Mr. Adams was very proud
of it, and insisted on an inspection by everyone. The vault was a small one, but it
had a new patented door. It fastened with three solid steel bolts thrown
simultaneous]y with a single handle, and had a time-lock. Mr. Adams beamingly
explained its workings to Mr. Spencer, who showed a courteous but not too
intelligent interest. The two childeren, May and Agatha, were delighted by the
shining metal and funny clock and knobs.
While they were thus engaged Ben Price sauntered in and leaned on his elbow,
looking casually inside between the railings. He told the teller that he didnt
want anything; he was just waiting for a man he knew.
Suddenly there was a scream or two from the women, and a commotion. Unperceived
by the elders, May, the nine-year-old girl, in a spirit of play, had shut Agatha in
the vault. She had then shot the bolts and turned the knob of the combination as
she had seen Mr. Adams do.
The old banker sprang to the handle and tugged at it for a moment. "The door
cant be opened," he groaned. "The clock hasnt been wound nor the conibination
set."
Agathas mother screamed again, hysterically.
"Hush!" said Mr. Adams, raising his trembling hand. "All be quiet for a moment,
Agatha!" he called as loudly as he could. "Listen to me." During the following
silence they could just hear the faint sound of the child wildly shrieking in the
dark vault in a panic of terror.
"My precious darling!" wailed the mother. "She will die of fright! Open the
door! Oh, break it open! Cant you men do something?"
"There isnt a man nearer than Little Rock who can open that door," said
Mr. Adams, in a shaky voice. "My God! Spencer, what shall we do? That child - she
cant stand it long in there. There isnt enough air, and, besides, shell go into
convulsions from fright."
Agathas mother, frantic now, beat the door of the vault with her hands.
Somebody wildly suggested dynamite. Annabel turned to Jimmy, her large eyes full of
anguish, but not yet despairing. To a woman nothing seems quite impossible to the
powers of the man she worships.
"Cant you do something, Ralph - try, wont you?"
He looked at her with a queer, soft smile on his lips and in his keen eyes.
"Annabel," he said, "give me that rose you are wearing, will you?"
Hardly believing that she heard him aright, she unpinned the bud from the bosom
of her dress, and placed it in his hand. Jimmy stuffed it into his vest-pocket,
threw off his coat and pulled up his shirt-sleeves. With that act Ralph D. Spencer
passed away and Jimmy Valentine took his place.
"Get away from the door, all of you," he commanded, shortly. He set his
suitcase on the table, and opened it out flat. From that time on he seemed to be
unconscious of the presence of any one else. He laid out the shining, queer
implements swiftly and orderly, whistling softly to himself as he always did when
at work. In a deep silence and immovable, the others watched him as if under a
spell.
In a minute Jimmys pet drill was biting smoothly into the steel door. In ten
minutes - breaking his own burglarious record - he threw back the bolts and opened
the door.
Agatha, almost collapsed, but safe, was gathered into her mothers arms. Jimmy
Valentine put on his coat, and walked outside the railings toward the front door.
As he went he thought he heard a far-away voice that he once knew cal1 "Ralph!" But
he never hesitated.
At the door a big man stood somewhat in his way. "Hello, Ben!" said Jimmy,
still with his strange smile. "Got around at last, have you? Well, lets go.
I dont know that it makes much difference, now."
And then Ben Price acted rather strangely.
"Guess youre mistaken, Mr. Spencer," he said. "Dont believe I recognize you.
Your buggy's waiting for you, aint it?"
And Ben Price turned and strolled down the street.
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