“These be some of my investments,” he answered, with just a tinge of surliness. “I cal'late they'll stand inspection. I ain't forcing you to take the money, sir,” he flared up, all at once. “I'd like to save the business.”
Mr. Carvel was disarmed. He went unsteadily to his desk, and none save God knew the shock that his pride received that day. To rescue a name which had stood untarnished since he had brought it into the world, he drew forth some blank notes, and filled them out. But before he signed them he spoke:
“You are a business man, Mr. Hopper,” said he, “And as a business man you must know that these notes will not legally hold. It is martial law. The courts are abolished, and all transactions here in St. Louis are invalid.”
Eliphalet was about to speak.
“One moment, sir,” cried the Colonel, standing up and towering to his full height. “Law or no law, you shall have the money and interest, or your security, which is this business. I need not tell you, sir, that my word is sacred, and binding forever upon me and mine.”
“I'm not afraid, Colonel,” answered Mr. Hopper, with a feeble attempt at geniality. He was, in truth, awed at last.
“You need not be, sir!” said the Colonel, with equal force. “If you were—this instant you should leave this place.” He sat down, and continued more calmly: “It will not be long before a Southern Army marches into St. Louis, and the Yankee Government submits.” He leaned forward. “Do you reckon we can hold the business together until then, Mr. Hopper?”
God forbid that we should smile at the Colonel's simple faith. And if Eliphalet Hopper had done so, his history would have ended here.
“Leave that to me, Colonel,” he said soberly.
Then came the reaction. The good Colonel sighed as he signed, away that business which had been an honor to the city where it was founded, I thank heaven that we are not concerned with the details of their talk that day. Why should we wish to know the rate of interest on those notes, or the time? It was war-time.