LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXI, Issue 1727, 2 September 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THH SCOTTISH BANKER’S DILEMMA. [From “ Chambers’ Journal.”] Chapter I. Mr Duff, the worthy and respected agent of the Central Bank at Tollkirk, was startled by his teller, James Hamilton, coming to him to say, just as the banker had signed the last official letter before proceeding to lock np the safe :— * lam sorry to say, sir, the cash appears to be one hundred ponnds short.’ James was very pale as he spoke, and despite his efforts to prevent it, his voice trembled, A stranger conld not have told whether the youth’s agitation was the result o! fright or guilt. Mr Doff knew him too well to let the latter alternative dwell in his mind for even a moment; but the lad’s excitement was somewhat infectious, and it was with just a little throb that he replied—'You’re joking, Jamie.’ Mr Duff leaned back in bis chair and nibbled the feather-end of his quill as he looked in the lad’s face. ‘ I was never more serious in my life,’ reiterated Hamilton, ‘lt is some mare’s nest, depend upon it,’ said Mr Duff in a tone that partly reassured the poor fellow. * Have you been very busy at the desk to-day, James ?’ 1 That is the mystery of it, sir ; we have not been busy. Hardly three pages of our cash-book have been filled.’ • A hundred ponnds I Hm! I am going upstairs to dinner. In the meantime, check your summations and your cash, andby-and-by I’ll come in and lock up the safe with ye.’ The teller went from the banker’s room to the outer office with a very grave face. Mr Duff, who lived with his family, as is customary in Scotland, in the very commodious house attached to the bank, sent his letters to be copied by the junior clerk, and then went leisurely upstairs to dinner. Mr Duff’s was, for a man who does not object to a permanent residence in a provincial town, a very easy and pleasant mode of life. His work was not hard, nor were his responsibilities very heavy. He had a pretty and comfortable home in an old-fashioned country town, and although his wife lay in the churchyard on the brae by the river side these ten years, still ha bad two of the prettiest girls in Tollkirk—Minna and Mary Duff (besides Jenny, the married daughter, who lived in Edinburgh), whoso delight it was to make his life sunny and happy. He was naturally—being known to possess private means, and on account of his official capacity as the dispenser of discounts and custodian of the wealth of the neighbourhood a man of some importance in Tollkirk, and formed part of, as well as moved in Tollkirk’s best society. He was magistrate and farmer as well as banker, and on Sundays, for many a long year, he had stood beaming behind “the plate” at the entrance to the “anld kirk.” Everybody knew him and he knew everybody, and perhaps nobody respected him the less because he pretty well knew to within a pound or two what every ratepayer on his side of the country was worth, financially. He took life very easy, as 1 have said; making no undue fuss when an accommodation bill was presented to him if he knew—as he was certain to know —the pedigree and progress through life of drawer and indorser. He was respected too ’by his Edinburgh employers as a man of prudence and sagacity, who never made bad debts, never troubled them with applications for rise of salary or transfer of agency—whose books always stood the minutest inspection, and who, speaking generally, wanted no favors from them. Rather granted favors, by occasional invitations to visit him at Tollkirk, where there is unsurpassed trout _ and salmon fishing, besides magnificent “ links ” for golf, and where the local distillery yields a liquid of more than local reputation. _ The city birds were not slow to accept such invitations, Mr Duff being over a tumbler of toddy the best of company, and generous in the matter of horses aad fishing rods. The chief inspector of the bank came often to woo the fair Jenny, the eldest of the family, and took her away with him one summer day, to the general bereavement of Tollkirk. The banker did not hurry over dinner on the particular afternoon of which I write. When he went upstairs he did not give a second thought to James Hamilton’s pale face, but quietly settled himself in his arm chair, after doing justice to his simple repast, to read for the second time the report of his own recent great speech at the parochial board, given at length in the “ Tollkirk Herald,” the fine roll of hie own—somewhat improved—spoken sentences seen in black and white, communicating a pleasing sense of complacence and importance as influencing public opinion. It was nearly seven o’clock before Mr Duff remembered that he had not yet locked up his safe, and that his clerks were probably waiting below for him. He was surprised when he opened the office door, leading to the ball of his house, to find Hamilton still bending over his cash-book with an expression of deep anxiety on his face, and bundles oTbank notes lying on the desk before bl n.

‘ What, James, still in a fog t’ he asked cheerfully, as he came in. ‘ Not found your difference, eh ?’ ‘ I am a hundred pounds short, sir, without doubt.’ Hamilton had toiled through every entry over and over again, had counted and recounted bis bundles of notes, and a vision in the background of his imagination of a dearly loved old mother waiting for him at home, and who was ill able to bear the responsibility of such a loss—if loss it should prove to be. • A mare’s nest, I’ll be bound.’ Mr Duffy said good-naturedly, taking Hamilton’s place before the cash-book. Very carefully and with a keen eye ho went over each entry ; very carefully too ho counted the cash, and recounted it; but only to find that Hamilton’s words were too true. The cash was undoubtedly £IOO short. 1 I think we had better sleep over it,’ Mr Duff sa'd at last, looking at his watch. * The difference will turn up in the morning, you may depend upon it.’ Then the cash and books were carried into the safe, and the office closed for the night. Poor Hamilton lay awake nearly all night thinking over some probable clue to the whereabouts of the missing money. Never before had he left the Bank with such a dread on his mind, for he felt certain he had gone over each item of the day, that he had not over-paid anyone to such an extent ; and he knew that on him devolved the responsibility tn make good any such deficiency. He hardly spoke to his mother as he ate what she called his ‘ ruined dinner’—spoiled by three long hours’ waiting in the oven; nor could she get from him all through the evening a hint of the cause of his trouble. She guessed, and hinted that perhaps Minna Duff, ‘the little Art,’had something to do with his gloom ; for she knew how her boy’s heart lay in regard to the banker’s ypunger daughter; but her son’s reply was equivalent to a snub. He was in the office two hours before official bank hours on the following morning ; but no trace of the missing money could be found. During the day all the banker’s customers who had on the previous day been paid large sums were asked to check their payments ; but when four o’clock arrived and the cash had agaiu to be counted, the balance still showed £IOO short. If the money had been paid away in error, no man had been honest enough to return it. Then for the first time in the history of the Tollkirk branch, a deficiency in the cash had to be reported to the head office. A hundred pounds to a rich man may seem a small matter to worry over ; but to James Hamilton, whose yearly salary, after ten years’ faithful and conscientious service, did not amount to £IOO, and whose mother —save for the help of a trifling annuity left by her husband—was in great measure dependent upon him—the liability to refund this sum weighed heavy. He became anxious and nervous, not being altogether certain that tho authorities of the bank might not suspect him of having appropriated the money; and from very nervousness was guilty during the next few days of making several small mistakes in his cash dealings, which confirmed him in the belief that he had paid the money to some unscrupulous rascal who did not mean to acknowledge it. (To he continued.)