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Show A Lesson For Youth John W. Worthington had only $2 left of a huge fortune amassed through frenzied and illegal speculation, when he died in the federal penitentiary at Atlanta, Ga. His two daughters, to whom he bequeathed the greater part of his fortune, showed only sufficient interest in his death to advise prison officials to "give him a Christian burial." bur-ial." Unmourned and unclaimed, the body of the man who began be-gan life as a grocery clerk in a small southern town will lie in a pauper's grave. Called the "Wolf," he was one of the most picturesque characters in modern criminal records and successfully eluded elud-ed capture until he used the mails to defraud, and then his troubles began. Worthington was credited with being a genius at finance, fin-ance, but crooked. He like many who have gone before him and many who still live, did not realize the value of "going straight"; that the world changes little though it seems to and still recognizes that "honesty is the best policy." Every beardless youth who has embarked on a life of crime, or has given thought to such enterprise, believing it 1 he easy way, should take a little time to study the life of - Worthington. He has had his fling; he used his talents in the wrong direction and is neither mourned nor respected, not even by those whom he befriended. A life or crime has its rewards, but they are not the ends sought by the youngster who sees only the immediate gains. If more young criminals could be made to understand' that all crime leads to the same disgraceful ends as Worth-; ington came to, it would be possible to lessen the glamour that a criminal life holds for boys in their teens. Paid For I A rather worn motor car made its way down the road. Its pep belied its evident age. It had started long ago, a shiny new thing, but though it. had lost its shine and newness, it was still going strong, its inmost heart untouched by the superficial tributes paid to time. Gaily it sailed along, patches patch-es of brown rust showing here and there. On wooden spokes were places bare of paint. P.ut the sturdy chug of engine belied be-lied its external forlornness. It came and passed and, lo! upon its broad but shabby Tiack this legend : "You May Laugh At Me, But I'm All Paid For." |