“I am an insurance agent and real estate broker,” said Mr. Mountain, plunging at once into his story, “and frequently have sums of money in my hands for investment belonging to other people. My reputation is good and my standing high.
“Some time ago I was caught in a speculation in which I had ventured rather recklessly. I reached a point where, unless I could put up a very considerable sum, I was likely to lose all I had ventured—lose everything.
“In this strait I used the money of an estate I was managing, and saved myself for that time. It was wrong and was something that people did not believe I would be guilty of.
“After I had passed this money out of my hands an accounting was suddenly and unexpectedly demanded of me. I was in a corner, likely to be exposed and ruined. The facts were not suspected, however, and a day or two intervened. I tried to extricate myself, but could not.
“In my distress I determined on suicide, and drew up a statement which was a confession, placing it in my desk, to be found when my death was announced.
“On the day I had fixed for my death—the day of accounting, I was given a respite by a postponement for one week.
“During that week the speculation I was engaged in was brought to an unexpected and successful conclusion and realization. I was in funds again—in fact, a rich man.
“During the few days left me before the accounting, I was so busy in preparing for it and buying back securities that I had used, that the confession passed from my mind.
“After I had passed through the accounting triumphantly, I looked for it. It was gone. I searched and inquired, but without success.
“For a long time it worried me greatly, but as time went on and nothing came of it, I began to think that I must have destroyed it and forgotten I had done so.