 Once William received the money from Partridge, what didn't he decide to do?
For punishment, he locked me in a windowless room and told me to sit still until he came back. My mother and father must have been glad when I was sent away to reform school after my thirteenth birthday party, the one If you believe any of this at all, you'll see why it couldn't be me who did the stealing. It was two or three years later that I skulked into Brother Partridge's mission on Durbin Street. Partridge was supposed to think I was just a bum. Partridge didn't seem to notice me, but I knew that was an act. As soon as I got cleaned up, I was going to have dinner in a good restaurant, and I was going to order such expensive food and leave such a large tip for the waiter and send one to the chef that they were going to think I was rich, and some executive with some brokerage firm would see me and say to himself, "Hmm, executive material. Even Partridge made his way down from the auctioneer's stand like a vulture with a busted wing and darted through his private door. Following the wallboard, I went down the side of the room and behind the last row of chairs, closer, closer, and halfway up the room again to the entrance—the entrance and the little wooden box fastened to the wall beside it. The box was fastened to the vertical tongue-and-groove laths of the woodwork, not the wall. It wouldn't go up, down, left or right. While keeping a lookout for Partridge and somebody stepping out of the kitchen for a pull on a bottle, I spotted the clock for the first time, a Western Union clock high up at the back of the hall. "This," Brother Partridge said, "is one of the most profound experiences of my life." My head hinged until it lined my eyes up with Brother Partridge. I would try robbing a collection box, knowing positively that I would get caught, but I wasn't dumb enough to murder. "I may be able to help you," Brother Partridge said, "if you have faith and a conscience." Partridge prodded me with his bony fingers as if making sure I was substantial. As long as it stalled off the cops, I'd talk to Partridge. After some time Sister Partridge bustled in and snapped on the overhead lights and I kept talking. William, you are being punished for some great sin.
 make a better future for himself
 research the murder  clean himself up  eat his fill  make a better future for himself