The underworld weaves about its citizens a sort of magic spell. I little thought, determined as I was to lead a different life, that I would ever again listen to its call. But I underestimated its influence over me. I had been out some seven or eight weeks when in company with a “stir” (prison) acquaintance I took to the road again. A fast freight took us away from the city back again toward the shadows of the underworld. I stopped just short of its boundaries. We lay the following evening in the “jungles” (outside the city) waiting to continue our journey. The train was late in coming and to while away the time I took some letters from my pocket and began to read them. They were old letters, one from my friend the minister, and another from my pal in prison. They were letters such as an old and true friend would write to one in trouble. They were so proud of the fight I was making; they knew that I would succeed in my endeavor to make good. They were anxious for the time when I could once again hold up my head with the rest of them. I read the letters and then I re-read them. As I did so I realized the folly of the course that I was taking. The call of the road I found was not as inviting as I had supposed. The road itself lost its magic. The underworld ceased to beckon. I was sincerely unhappy. I saw the two lives from the right angle, and the life of the shadows was not for me. I determined to go back. To show them, my friends, that I was not unappreciative of their friendships, I resolved to make the fight at any cost and win out.

I found a right royal welcome awaiting me. I got back into the fight, and while meeting with occasional disappointments, made some progress. I have been on the outside now for over two years, and I can say that in that time I have never lapsed in my endeavors. I have congenial employment, and am happy doing it. I have met the one girl, and my friend, the minister, made us one. I am happier now than I have ever been before.