Cincinnati daily press. [volume] (Cincinnati [Ohio]) 1860-1862, 1861-10-02

not like, she blushed as she handed out the
bill the clerk had made up his mind to
take.
"Sennis," cried Torrent, the head clerk,
in quick, pompous tone, "pass up the
Bank Detector"
Up ran toe-headed boy with the De-
tector, and up and down ran the clerks
eyes from column to column. Then he
looked over with sharp glance and ex-
claimed,
"This is counterfeit bill, Miss"
Oh, how pale grew the sweet face
Counterfeit Oh no it can not be. The
man who sent it could not be so careless.
You must be mistaken, sir"
I'm not mistaken; I'm never mistaken,
Miss. The bill is counterfeit. l must pre-
sume of course, that you did not know it,
although so much bad money has been Of
fered us of late that we intend to secure
such persons as pass it. Who did you say
sent it?"
"Mr, c., sir, of New York. He could
not send me bad money" said the trem-
bling, frightened girl.
"Humph /" said the clerk. "Well there's
no doubt about this you can look for your
self. Now don't let me see you here again
until you can bring good money, for we al-
ways suspect such persons as you who come
on dark days, with well-made story"
"But, sir
"You need make no such explanations,
Miss" said the man, fnsultingly. "Take
your bill, and the next time you want to
buy dressing-gow don't intend to pass
counterfeit money" and as he handed it
the bill fell from his hands.
Alice caught it from the floor and hur-
ried into the street.
Such shock the girl never received in
all her life before. 1t was the first insult
she had ever known, and it burned her
cheek and panied her heart.
Straightway, indignant and grieved, she
hurried 10 banking establishment, found
her way in and presented the note to q no
bic looking man with gray hair, faltering
out,
"Is the bill bad one, sir ?"
The cashier and his son happened to be
| the only persons present. Both noticed
her extreme youth, beauty and agitation.
| The cashier looked ar it closely and handed
| it back, as, with polite bow and somewhat
prolonged look. he said,
at is good bill, young lady"
"Iknew it was" cried Alice, with
| quivering lip; sand he dared"
She could 60 no further, but, entirely
overcome, she bent her head and the hot
tears had their way.
al beg pardon, have you had trouble with
| it ?" asked the cashier.
"Oh, sir, will you please excuse me for
| giving way to my feelings but you spoke
so kindly and l felt so sure it was good
and think, sir, such men as one of those
clerks in Hunter s. Warmers should be re-
moved. He told me that it was counter
felt, and added something I'm glad my
father did not hear. knew the publisher
would not send me bad money"
"Who is your father, young lady p asked
the cashier, becoming interested.
"Mr. Benjamin Locke, sir"
" Bcnjamin-Ben. Locke-was he ever q
clerk in the Navy Department at Washing
ton ~
"Yes, sir; we removed from there re-
| piled Alice. Since then" she hesitated,
he has not been well-and-we are some
what reduced. Oh, why do l tell these
things, sir?"
a." Ben. Locke reducedr r murmured the
cashier; the man who was the making of
me Give me his number and street, my
| child. Your father was one of the best, per-
haps the only friend had. have not for
gotten him. NO. 4 Liberty street. will
call there this evening. Meantime, let me
have the bill-let me see, I'll give you
another. Come to look l haven't got five
here's ten we'll make it all right
That evening the inmates Of a shabby.
genteel house received the cashier of the
NJ Bank. Mr.. Locke, a man of gray
hairs, though numbering but fifty years
rose from his armchair and, much affected
greeted the familiar face. The son of the
cashier accompanied him, and while the el-
der talked together, Alice and the young
man grew quite chatty.
"Yes, sir | have been unfortunate" said
Mr. Locke, in a low tone. 81 have Just re-
covered, as you see from q rheumatic fever,
caused by undue exertion, and had it not
been for that sweet girl of mine | know
not what should have done. She by Civ
| ing lessons in music and FreRch, and by
writing for periodicals, has kept me, SO far,
| above want"
"You shall never know want, my old
friend" said the cashier. at was kind
Providence that sent your daughter to me-
There's place in bank just made vacant by
the death Of valuable clerk, and it is at
your disposal. 1t is my gift, and valued al
twelve hundred q year"
Pen can not describe the delight with
which this kind offer was received. The
day of deliverance had come.
On the following morning the cashier en-
tered the handsome store of Hunter s. War
ner and asked for the head clerk.
"Sir," said the cashier, sternly, 4" is tina
bad note ~
"I-I think not, sir" said the clerk
stammering
The cashier went to the door. From hi
carriage stepped young girl in compan
with his daughter.
"Did you not tell this young lady, m
ward, that this note was counterfeit And
furthermore, did you not so far forget you
selfrespect and the interest of your EN-
ployers as to offer her an INSULT" I"
The man stood confOunded he dared no
deny it. He could say nothing for himself
of your employers keep you, sir, the.
will no longer get my custom said tn
cashier, sternly. "You deserve to b
horse-Whipped, sir"
The firm parted with their unworth!
clerk that very day, and he left the stor
disgraced, but rightly punished.
Alice Locke became the daughter-in Law
of the good cashier; all of which grew ou
of calling a genuine bill counterfeit.