ither. I tried every means to trace her, but could not. At the end of
a week, I went home, what you see me--a broken-hearted man.'

The next morning, despite our urgent entreaties, he returned to the
South.

* * * * *

The twenty days were expiring. By hard struggling I had met my
liabilities, but the last day--the crisis--was approaching. Thirty
thousand dollars of our acceptances had accumulated together, and were
maturing on that day. When I went home, on the preceding night, we had
only nineteen thousand in bank. I had exhausted all our receivables.
Where the eleven thousand was to come from, I did not know. Only one
resource seemed left me--the hypothecation of produce; and a resort to
that, at that time, before warehouse receipts became legitimate
securities, would be ruinous to our credit. My position was a terrible
one. No one not a merchant can appreciate or realize it. With thousands
upon thousands of assets, the accumulations of years, my standing among
merchants, and, what I valued more than all, my untarnished credit, were
in jeopardy for the want of a paltry sum.

I went home that night with a heavy heart; but Kate's hopeful words
encouraged me. With her and the children left to me, I need not care for
the rest; all might go, and I could commence again at the bottom of the
hill. The next morning I walked down town with a firm spirit, ready to
meet disaster like a man. The letters by the early mail were on my desk.
I opened them one after another, hurriedly, eagerly. There were no
remittances! I had expected at least five thousand dollars. For a moment
my courage failed me. I rose, and paced the room, and thoughts like
these passed through my mind: 'The last alternative has come. Pride must
give way to duty. I must hypothecate produce, and protect my
correspondents. I must sacrifice myself to save my friends!

'But here are two letters I have thrown aside. They are addressed to me
personally. Mere letters of friendship! What is friendship, at a time
like this?--friendship without money! Pshaw! I wouldn't give a fig for
all the friends in the world!'

Mechanically I opened one of them. An enclosure dropped to the floor.
Without pausing to pick it up, I read:

'DEAR FATHER: Mother writes me you are hard pressed. Sell my U. S.
stock--it will realize over seven thousand. It is yours. Enclosed
is Cragin's certified check for ten thousand. If you need more,