He worked hard, and after a while he bought a bear.

When his bear ate up the India-rubber on my bicycle he was very much frightened, for he was afraid he might be sent to prison.

But that was not the fright that made him run away.
When he talked to the boy and asked him the name of the keeper of the inn, and the boy told him what it was, the earth seemed to open and he saw hell.

The name was the name that was on the paper he had taken from the man he had killed by mistake, and this was his wife whose house he was staying at.

He was seized with such a horror and such a fear that everything might be found out, and that he would be arrested, that he ran away to the railroad and took a train for New York.
He did not want his bear.