Music Welcome to snoozecast, the podcast designed to help you fall asleep. Find us on snoozecast.com and follow us on Instagram at snoozecast to find behind the scenes content. If you enjoy our show, you can support us by writing a review on the Apple Podcasts app. Here's a recent review we loved. The subject line is a sleep saver. It goes, a big thanks to everyone that keeps this podcast running. I am able to fall asleep within 15 minutes every night when I listen to a podcast. The amount of sleep I've saved with this podcast is amazing. I really cannot thank you enough. Thank you to the Australian listener who wrote this review. more so glad you've been able to catch more Z's lately. This episode is dedicated to our listener, Guy, who requested more Oh Henry, and brought to you by Dear Old Pals. Tonight, we'll read a retrieved Reformation. A short story by American author O'Henry first published in 1903. This story shows how love can change anyone for the better. It describes the events which lead up to the Reformation of an ex-convicted bird. As usual, the ending of this or Henry is worth hearing from the twist. Let's get cozy. Close your eyes. Relax your body into the softness of your bed.

Now, take a few deep breaths. A guard came to the prison shoe shop, where Jimmy Valentine was a situously 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 It served nearly ten months of a four-year sentence.

He had expected 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 worthwhile to cut his hair. Now, Valentine said the warden, you'll go out in the morning, brace up, and make a man of yourself. not a bad fellow at heart. Stop cracking saves and live straight. Me said Jimmy in surprise. Why? I've never cracked a safe in my life. Oh no, laugh the warden. Of course not. Let's see now. How was it you happened to get sent up on that Springfield job? Was it because you wouldn't prove an haliby 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? It's always one or the other with you in a sin victims.

Me said Jimmy, still blankly virtuous.

My warden, I never was in Springfield in my life.

Taken back Ronan, said the warden, and fix him up without going clothes. Unlock him at seven in the morning, and let him come to the bullpen. Better think over my advice, Valentine. quarter past seven on the next morning, Jimmy stood in the warden's outer office. He had on a suit, 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 chronicle

on the books, pardoned by the 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 grain 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 sat 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 couldn't make it sooner, Jimmy McBoy.

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. on the floor with still Ben Price's collar button that had been torn from that eminent detective's shirt band when they had overpowered Jimmy to arrest him. Folling 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, bits, jimmies, clamps, and augers, with two or three novelties invented by Jimmy himself And 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 threw the cafe. He was now dressed and tasteful and well-fitting clothes and carried his dusted and cleaned suitcase in his hand. I got anything on. I asked Mike Dolan, Genealy, me, said Jimmy in a puzzled tone, I don't understand. I'm representing the New York, a malgumated, short snap, biscuit cracker, and frazzled weed company. This statement delighted Mike to such an extent that Jimmy had to take a celser and milk on the spot. He never touched hard drinks. A week before 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, 800 dollars was all that was secured.

Two weeks after that, a patented, improved burglar-proof safe in Logan's sport was opened like a cheese to the tune of $1,500 currency, securities, and silver untouched. That began to interest the rogue gatchers. Then an old-fashioned bank safe in Jefferson City became active and threw out of its crater an eruption of bank notes amounting to $5,000. The losses were now high enough to bring the matter up into Ben Price's 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. That's Dandy, Jim Valentine's autograph. He's resumed business. Look at that combination knob. Jerk doubt is easy as pulling a paratish and wet weather. He's 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. He'll do his bit next time, without any short time, or clemency foolishness. Ben Price knew Jimmy's habits. He had learned them while working up the Springfield case. Long jumps. Quick getaways. 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 cracksmen and other people with burglar proofs safes felt more at ease. And afternoon, Jimmy Valentine and his suitcase climbed out of the mail-hack in Elmore. A little town five miles off the railroad, down in the blackjack 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 Jimmy's style and looks were scarce in Elmore. Jimmy called her to boy that was loafing on the steps of the bank, as if he were one of the stockholders, and began to ask him questions about the town, feeding him dimes at intervals. by the by the young lady came out, looking royally unconscious of the young man with the suitcase and went her way. Isn't that young lady, Paulie Simpson? Ask Jimmy, with specious guile. No, said the boy. She's Annabelle Adams. Her paw owns this bank. Say what'd you come to Elmore for? Is that a gold watch chain? I'm gonna get a bulldog. Got any more dimes? Jimmy went to the planner's 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 Jimmy's manner of tying his foreign hand, he cordially gave him information. Yes, there ought to be a good opening in the shoe-line. There wasn't an exclusive shoe-store in the place. The dry goods in general stores handled them. Business and 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 needed call the boy. He would carry up his suitcase himself. It was rather heavy. Mr. Ralph Spencer, the phoenix that arose from Jimmy Valentine's ashes, ashes left by the flame of a sudden attack of love, remained in Elmore and Prospurd.

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 This situation of Mr. Ralph Spencer was this.

He had won the respect of the community. His shoe store was flourishing, and he and Annabelle were engaged to be married in two weeks. Mr. Adams, the typical, plotting, country banker, approved of Spencer, Annabelle's pride in him almost equaled her affection.

He was as much at home in the family of Mr. Adams,

and that of Annabelle's 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 Sullivan's place, in Little 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, I've quit the old business a year ago. I've got a nice store. I'm making an honest living. And I'm going to marry the finest girl on earth two weeks from now. It's the only life, Billy. The straight one. I wouldn't touch a dollar of another man's money. After I get married, I'm going to sell out and go west, where there won't be so much danger of having old scores brought up against me. I tell you, Billy, she's an angel. She believes in me, and I wouldn't do another crooked thing for the whole world. Be sure to be at Sully's, for I must see you, while bring along the tools with me, your old friend Jimmy. On the Monday night after Jimmy wrote this letter, Ben price jogged unobtrusively into Almore in a buggy. He lounged about town in his quiet way until he found out what he wanted to know. From the drugstore across the street from Spencer's shoe store, he got a good look at Ralph D. Spencer. Going to marry the banker's daughter, are you Jimmy? Said Ben to himself softly. Well, I don't 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 Annabelle. 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 downtown together. Mr. Adams, Annabelle, Jimmy, and Annabelle's married sister, with her two little girls, aged five and nine. They came by the hotel where Jimmy still boarded. it. And he ran up to his room and brought along his suitcase. Then they went onto the bank. There stood Jimmy's 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. Adams' 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 said his suit case down. Annabel, whose heart was bubbling with happiness and lively youth, put on Jimmy's hat and picked up the suitcase. Wouldn't I make a nice drummer, said Annabelle. My Ralph, how heavy it is.

Feels like it was full of gold bricks. Lot of nickel-plated shoe horns in there, said Jimmy, coolie. That I'm going to return. Thought I'd save expressed charges by taking them up. I'm getting awfully economical. That own more 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 simultaneously with a single handle and had a time lock. atoms, beamingly explained its workings to Mr. Spencer, who showed a courteous but not too intelligent interest. The two children, May and Agatha, were delighted by the shining metal and funny clocks and knobs. While they were thus engaged, Ben Price sontered in and leaned on his elbow, looking casually inside between the railings. He told the teller that he didn't want anything. He was just waiting for a man he knew. Suddenly, there was 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. you. The old banker spraying to the handle and tugged at it for a moment. The door can't be opened, he groaned. The clock hasn't been wound nor the combination set. Agatha's mother screamed again hysterically. Hush, said Mr. Adams, raising his trembling hand. I'll 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. My precious darling, wailed the mother. Open the door, break it open. Can't you men do something? There isn't 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 can't stand it long in there. There isn't enough air. Agatha's mother, frantic now, beat the door of the vault with her hands. Somebody wildly suggested dynamite. a bell turned to Jimmy. Her large eyes full of anguish, but not yet despairing. Two woman nothing seems quite impossible to the powers of the man she worships. Can't you do something Ralph won't you?

He looked at her with a queer soft smile on his lips and in his keen eyes. They had a bell.

He said, Give me that rose you are wearing.

...