that I had a duty to perform, and that, if I exposed the junior
partner, he, and not I, would be guilty of his fall. Was it meanness,
ingratitude, or treachery in me to put Mr. Collingsby on his guard? If
I could save Mr. Whippleton, I wished to do so. It was plain that he
had come to a realizing sense of his danger, and was persecuting his
mother to obtain the means of making good his deficit. But all the old
lady's money would not cover the deficiency, and it was also
impossible for him to obtain it. He had falsified the books, and he
could not undo that.

If I continued to cover up Mr. Whippleton's error, I became a party to
it. He was a bad man, and I could not fail to see my duty. I must
inform Mr. Collingsby of what I had discovered. But though my duty was
clear, my inclination rebelled. The junior partner had been kind and
considerate; the senior, lofty and distant. It seemed almost like
betraying my friend. While I was still considering the matter, Mr.
Whippleton came in. I had not reached any conclusion, except that I
would not be a party to the fraud by concealing it.

"Phil, do you know where Mr. Collingsby lives?" said the junior
partner, while I was still in this state of doubt and uncertainty.

"I do, sir."

"I wish you would go up and show him this list of lumber," continued
Mr. Whippleton, who seemed to be very much excited, and was very pale.
"Tell him I can buy the lot at a very low figure if I can pay cash at
one o'clock to-day."

"I wish you would send Robert," I replied, alluding to the new entry
clerk. "I want to speak to you about the books."

"Never mind the books," he answered. "I want you to go, for you can
tell him all about the cash of the concern. I heard just now that he
was not very well, and probably would not be here to-day."

By this time I had made up my mind what to do, and the conclusion
seemed to afford me the means of escaping both horns of the dilemma
into which I was plunged. I glanced at the memoranda which Mr.
Whippleton handed to me, and I saw that about twenty-five thousand
dollars would be required to make the purchase he contemplated. Our
cash balance in the bank was about six thousand, and Mr. Collingsby was
expected to furnish the rest. I did not care to go to the senior
partner upon such an errand, for I was afraid that the transaction the
junior meditated might include another fictitious invoice.

"Well, will you go?" demanded Mr. Whippleton, while I was looki