him to his former position, they had not
quite decided what the effect of it would be. They would think it over
and correspond with him later, possibly, after a little time, and so on.

The sum and substance of it was that there was no hope, and they wanted
the money with the least trouble possible. Hurstwood read his doom.
He decided to pay $9,500 to the agent whom they said they would send,
keeping $1,300 for his own use. He telegraphed his acquiescence,
explained to the representative who called at the hotel the same day,
took a certificate of payment, and told Carrie to pack her trunk. He was
slightly depressed over this newest move at the time he began to make
it, but eventually restored himself. He feared that even yet he might be
seized and taken back, so he tried to conceal his movements, but it was
scarcely possible. He ordered Carrie's trunk sent to the depot, where he
had it sent by express to New York. No one seemed to be observing him,
but he left at night. He was greatly agitated lest at the first station
across the border or at the depot in New York there should be waiting
for him an officer of the law.

Carrie, ignorant of his theft and his fears, enjoyed the entry into
the latter city in the morning. The round green hills sentinelling the
broad, expansive bosom of the Hudson held her attention by their beauty
as the train followed the line of the stream. She had heard of the
Hudson River, the great city of New York, and now she looked out,
filling her mind with the wonder of it.

As the train turned east at Spuyten Duyvil and followed the east bank of
the Harlem River, Hurstwood nervously called her attention to the
fact that they were on the edge of the city. After her experience with
Chicago, she expected long lines of cars--a great highway of tracks--and
noted the difference. The sight of a few boats in the Harlem and more
in the East River tickled her young heart. It was the first sign of the
great sea. Next came a plain street with five-story brick flats, and
then the train plunged into the tunnel.

"Grand Central Station!" called the trainman, as, after a few minutes of
darkness and smoke, daylight reappeared. Hurstwood arose and gathered up
his small grip. He was screwed up to the highest tension. With Carrie
he waited at the door and then dismounted. No one approached him, but
he glanced furtively to and fro as he made for the street entrance.
So excited was he that he forgot all about Carrie