Knots Untied; Or, Ways and By-ways in the Hidden Life of American Detectives

by George S. McWatters

"Father Brooks, of course I propose that the bank shall not lose the money. The other bank will, of course, recognize the fact of having given the draft; and now, as the draft is paid it is all the same to us if it is lost."

"Yes, yes," said Mr. Brooks; "that's all well enough. I wonder why I've not thought to send word to the other bank, and find if they have issued such a draft on us." This very suggestion piqued Mr. Savage's pride awfully, but he suffered the affront silently; and as the conversation closed, Mr. Savage said, "And, father, even if it were a forged draft, I should tell you to have it charged to me, against my stock and dividends. The bank shall not lose for my laches."

This suggestion about a forged draft struck Mr. Brooks unpleasantly. "What if it should prove that the bank has made no such draft on us that day?" asked Mr. B. of himself, as he and Mr. Savage parted; and he immediately despatched a messenger to the country to find out the facts, who, returning, said the bank had issued no such draft. Mr. Brooks's suspicions became strong that Mr. Savage, for some inscrutable reason, had done wrong. He did not care for the money, but his confidence was shaken in him. He would pay the sum withdrawn, and get rid of Mr. Savage as easily as he could. This was his purpose; but he bethought him, that perhaps somebody could unravel the mystery; perhaps—but he did not believe it—somebody had deceived Mr. Savage with a forged check; but, ah! where had that gone. "Perhaps," Mr. Savage had thought—well, he could not solve it for himself, knew not what to think; and after pondering over it, came to our office (for I then had a partner). He revealed his case to me,—told me the whole history which I have related, and far more, and said he had grown ten years older within the past two weeks. He had said nothing yet to his wife about it, and thought he never should.

I told him it looked to me that Mr. Savage was an honest man, and had been imposed upon with a forged check; that possibly, by some connivance with the old negro messenger, the forger had repossessed himself of that check; but that that was the most unlikely thing in the world. I tried to conceive various ways to account for it, even to supposing that Mr. S. was mistaken as to having put the draft in the drawer, but had tucked it, unthinkingly, into his vest pocket, and had lost it. But to all I could suggest, he had a ready reply; and I told him that I thought I'd better examine the premises, the drawers, and so forth; and we arranged a private examination,—he and I being alone in the bank,—which was made.

I saw that if the drawers were full,—and it appeared that on that fatal day much business had been done, and the drawer was probably full,—a paper might get out over the back end and fall on the floor, and so get lost; but this suggestion was answered to my satisfaction,—the greatest search had been made for the paper on the afternoon of the day it was said to have been presented, etc., and my theory was thus precluded. After a few conferences, I finally yielded to Mr. Brooks's opinion, that Mr. Savage was guilty of having taken the money, and trumped up the silly story for his defence; and yet it was all so absurd an act in one situated as was he.

A while after, Mr. Brooks had a serious talk with Mr. Savage, who was allowed to pay the bank the loss, and matters were so arranged that the clerks thought that the check had indeed been found, though they did not see it; but Mr. Brooks's confidence in and respect for Mr. Savage was gone, and the poor old man's grief was terrible. "Not one honest man in the world," he used to mutter; "even if you educate him yourself, and nurture him in your own bosom, and give to his keeping your dearest child, and your wealth and all, he'll deceive you."

Mr. Brooks caused Mr. Savage to give up his place; and told him that he wanted his daughter and their children to visit him as before, but hoped he should never see him at his house, and if he did visit there, he trusted he would take care not to meet him. And Mr. Savage, whose feelings, under the circumstances, can perhaps be better conceived than described, seeing the old man's wretchedness, withdrew from his sight quietly, simply saying, "It is awful—I am innocent—perhaps something will convince you, some day, that I am."

"No, no," said old Mr. Brooks; "I have no such hope; there is no room for hope; you have deceived me in your character, and I am fast breaking down."

Mr. Savage went to his home an almost broken-down man himself. For a long time he kept all from his wife; finally, he told her; and she, against his advice, went to implore her father, now inexorable in his opinion. He cried over his daughter, but would not yield his opinion.

Mr. Savage became quite low in health, and it was finally thought best, by his physician, that he should take a sea voyage,—go to Europe to spend a year or two; which he did, leaving his wife and children at home. He made his will, and arranged everything as if he might never return. The physicians could not determine exactly what was his malady, but thought change of conditions and travel would do him good. They did not know that it was wounded affection—affection for his dear old father-in-law, whom he really loved and adored—that was secretly undermining his health; for he could not tell them his story.