“Do you know John Fields, Mr. Merritt?” he inquired.
“I do not—but Mr. Warden told me that he was a wealthy cousin of his, living at Salem. Do _you_ know him, sir?”
The attorney’s face lighted up with the same curious smile that had before accompanied the mention of that indorser’s name.
“Yes, Mr. Merritt, John Fields is a distant relative of the celebrated John Smith, an imaginary being, as I have ascertained, who lends his name for the accommodation of such of his friends as want a discount. The name is not worth one copper, Mr. Merritt, and therefore we shall make the money out of you. We will have an execution out shortly for ten thousand dollars and the costs, which will be a thousand more, or it shall be my fault. What think you of that, Mr. Merritt?” he continued, watching the effects of the development with intense pleasure.
Alas! it was too true. Mr. Warden had been in the habit of conforming to the rules of the bank, by furnishing fictitious indorsers to the requisite number; a harmless evasion, which the president readily winked at, in consideration of a trifling token of good will, provided always, that Warden obtained one genuine and responsible name in addition to his own.
Mr. Merritt was so utterly stupefied at this new intelligence of treachery, that he walked off mechanically, without answering a word. Esquire Rock gazed after him until he was gone; when he again returned to his papers, muttering aloud, “chew that awhile, Mr. Merritt—asses practice at the bar, do they?”
Mr. Merritt had nearly reached his dwelling before he recovered from the confusion into which his faculties had been thrown by the astounding intelligence conveyed by the attorney. As he now gazed upon his peaceful home, it seemed more beautiful than ever. Alas! it could be his no longer. The savings of long years—the earnings of days and nights of hard toil, so carefully husbanded—the little luxuries that had been done without—the self-denials that had been practiced—the privations undergone, to gather a substance which should soothe life’s decline—all, all gone at a single blow, swept away forever! How could he impart the dreadful news to his wife! How could he endure to meet the companion of his bosom and his darling family, plunged, through his own imprudence, (he felt,) into hopeless want. “She shall be happy a little longer,” thought he, and retraced his steps to his shop.