uld conceal
their chagrin over the way I took it, and over the fact that their
secret had been imparted to another. More wine was ordered, and before
we parted I had promised not only secrecy, but, worse still, I had also
promised to consider the proposition and give my answer the following
night.

As my evil genus would have it, that very morning I had a visit in my
office from the agent of my landlord, requesting arrears of rent, and
from a tradesman whom I was owing, demanding immediate payment of an
overdue bill.

Pressed for money as I was, the $10,000 seemed a large sum and offered
an easy way out of my difficulties. I shall never forget that day nor
how its slow minutes dragged during the mental struggle. Time after time
I said: "What could I not do with $10,000?" How vast the possibilities
before me with that sum at my command! Then, after all, had not the
owner of these bonds lost them forever, and why should not I have a
share instead of letting these villain detectives keep all? And through
all I kept saying to myself: "This, of course, is only speculation. I
will never do this thing."

At last the stars came out, and I started for a long walk alone up
Broadway to Fifth avenue and into the Park. Since that Park was formed
few men have ever passed its walks in whose bosoms raged such a tumult
as in mine. I was young, in love with pleasure, and poverty seemed a
fearful thing. I kept saying; "I cannot do this thing!" and then I would
add: "How am I to keep up appearances, and how am I to pay my debts?"
Unhappily, I had taken an enemy into the citadel. In the misery of the
struggle I drank heavily.

In my excitement I exaggerated my poverty until it seemed impersonated
and assumed the guise of an enemy threatening to enslave me. From 8
o'clock to 11 I paced that mall, and then left it to keep my appointment
with Irving & Co., with one thought surging through my brain, and that
was that I dared not be poor, the result being that before we parted, to
their renewed question: "Will you do this for us?" "Of course I will!" I
cried, and my feet had slipped a good many steps further down the
Primrose Way to death.

[Illustration: BURNING RETURNED BANK NOTES.]

[Illustration: IN FORT LAFAYETTE, NEW YORK HARBOR.]

[Illustration: IN FORT LAFAYETTE, NEW YORK HARBOR.]

CHAPTER IV.

FOOLS STUMBLING ON FORTUNES.

The present generation has become tolerably familiar with defalcations
and robberies involvin