But the stranger produced satisfactory evidence that he was the rightful owner of the horse, which was accordingly delivered up to him. When Charles Carey
heard the unwelcome news, he quietly remarked, ‘It is hard for me to lose the money; but I am glad the man has recovered his property.’
About a year afterward, having occasion to go to a tavern in Philadelphia
, he saw a man in the barroom, whom he at once recognized as the person who had sold him the horse.
He walked up to him, and inquired whether he remembered the transaction.
Being answered in the affirmative, he said, ‘I am the man who bought that horse.
Didst thou know he was stolen?’
With a stupified manner and a faltering voice, the stranger answered, ‘Yes.’
‘Come along with me, then,’ said Charles; ‘and I will put thee where thou wilt not steal another horse very soon.’
The thief resigned himself to his fate with a sort of hopeless indifference.
But before they reached the magistrate's office, the voice within began to plead gently with the Quaker
, and turned him from the sternness of his purpose.
‘I am a poor man,’ said he, ‘and thou hast greatly injured me. I cannot afford to lose fifty dollars; but to prosecute thee will not compensate me for the loss.
Go thy way, and conduct thyself honestly in future.’
The man seemed amazed.
He stood for a moment,