Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1881-05-28

"Did you? That's my check.case, sur
enough. But suppose you did, what then
Because something comes out of it;
doesn't follow it was who put it in. No
no. l never drew that check. You pre-
sent it to be cashed. and it purports to b
drawn, signed, and indorsed by me. Yor
say you received it from me. l say yol
didn't. And l ought to know; for 20,
couldn't have received check that neve
was drawn. Justice is justice. Adam
Brown goes back to my works and you'll
go to the country's, whoever you are.
don't know what's the right way to start
prosecution, but that's easy known. I'll Sc
Standish this very day."
You'll see Standish 2"
Gay, Standish OF Carcester, my law
yer. Criminal business isn't his line, b
says: but he'll do it for me-"
'You mean I'm to prosecute myself
Well, it all seems queer enough. Perhap
l don't know who | am. Do you?"
No, fir; don't, am happy to say
Forgers are not in my line"
Good Heaven! Do You mean to den,
that am Mr.. Standish of Ca1cester?
l saw very decided smile come owe
the face of Mr.. Richards. And it was no
pleasant to see. For if John Butler, as h
was quite capable of doing, chose to prose
cute me for forgery-well, L should b.
acquitted, OF course, but my characte
would be gone for ever and day. Th
names of ladies are not more delicate thai
those of professional men.
Come, none of that nonsense, sait
John Butler, "you're no more Stardisl
than Tn the Duke of Wellington. Itdoe
aggravate me to hear man talk in tina
way. If you choose to deny that YOU'RE
the Duke of Wellington when l say yol
are, wen have wager upon that, and tos
up for the winner. You come and din'
with me at the Star, both of you, and II
treat you like Princes. Wen eat checks
for fifty pound apiece between slices O
brown bread and butter cut thin, with
lemon and cayenne. It's very odd, but
took fancy to you the first minute | saw
you. There's something about you puti
me in mind of somebody or other-I never
could remember names. But it's all one,
whoever we are. We're the sparks that fly
upward and, by lingo, we'll have jolly
good fly. Who are you 2" he
called out at the top OF his voice to Rich,
ards. you're murderer, sir, and q
forger, and fool. Come and dine with
me at the Star"
| need not continue the talk of poor
John Butler, whom overwork and loss OF
faith in one human being who was dear to
him had driven out of his mind. 1t was
an overwhelming relief when my managing
clerk arrived, and when sufficient explana-
tons were obtained to allow of my return
home in company with my poor friend.
Even to the Jealous Mr.. Richards the state
of things was as clear as day, so far as he
knew.
1t was not hard for me, now, to see how
John Butler, once assured against his will
of Adams treachery in the first instance,
had brooded over the shock, with an al
ready lonely and over-b urdened mind,
till, as sure as Friday night came round,
he, possessed by the demon of monomania
which simply means the abnormal growth
of natural and normal idea-drew the
checks which haunted and fascinated him.
Ii my readers cannot follow the
chain of mental association,
with its manifold links of time,
place, person and occasion, in which his
disturbed brain became tangled and
coiled, l fear l cannot hope to make it
very clear. But there are very few who
have not met with the most extraordinary
cases of monomania in some form, and
noticed how consistent they are with all
outward appearance OF sanity. Are there
very many of US who have not felt some
form OF ii ourselves in some slight degree?
But, fortunately. few Of us live altogether
alone few of us are over trustful or,
therefore, half maddened when deceived
most of US have more, If not much more,
self-control than was evidently possessed
by John Butler. And yet he must have
had a great deal. Only the insane can tell
the very torture of self-suppress;on they
have to undergo when they feel mono
mania slowly broadening into wider, if
not deeper, mode OF luracy. For, con-
scious OF its own state every diseased
brain must be when the state first begins.
And yet-couid this be all The mad
ness of John Butler did not account for the
more than apparent guilt of Adam Brown.
1t was not till years afterward-not till
my poor old friend had left all his troubles
behind him not till I.had long ago given
up puzzling my head about the matter
that l one day received letter bearing an
post-mark, and addressed to
myself in strange hand. There was
nothing curious in that bus, as read, the
story have been trying to tell came back
to me as freshly as if it had all happened
yesterday. For thus the letter ran:
SIR 1t will doubtless surprise you to receive this
hat
member much my name. But you will remem.
bar-I fear onIT too wella clerk in the service Of
Sir. John Butler, who was dismissed from his ser
vice for embezzement. | am that man and my
r. asun for calling myself TO your remembrance is,
that / have at last found myself able repay the
SUMS hat distracted wrongfully, and for which
only Mr. Buffers kindness saved me from being
sent to Jail. do not, moreover want HIM to think
me always such hopelessly ungTatei and treacher-
Gus scoundrel as he must be thinking me. / got
into bad ways. knowing them bad all the time. |
wanted more money than could get honestly, and
had to pay it. needn't tell that story; it's over
now, and no harm done to anybody but me.
| was tempted, by what | called TO myself need
and weakness, to "borrow," l called it ther-to
steal, that is to say-sOme Of the money | drew
from Redport Bank. ] had complete control OF
the accounts at Redport, and suppose it all SO
easy that at first il didn't 50 much feel like stealing
and SO went on and on. used TO take sometimes
more than fifty pounds together I've sent you =
statement Of all took, ard hope it's correct for,
of course | had to nuddle up all the accounts.
You see, sir, Mr.. Butler always used 10 give me a
f.ty pound check over and above what / asked for,
meaning, / suppose, 10 keep plenty OF ready money
in the works for the week; and / never
tod him it was more than was wanted, for
the reasons I've written. Tie only excuse
had is this-I never knew how much l owed
TO Mr. Butler. | thought ] was nothing more TO
him, and rather less, than any other man That's
NJ reason / should rob him, but It makes me bit
less Of q thorough backguard He ought to lave
had me sent to Jail And when he didn't but just
as much as told me to go and do no more wrong, IS
if I'd been his oWn sonwell, Sir, it did 20 to the
bottom Of all the heart I've got, and I'd like him
lust to know that he wasn't foolish in being kind.
II / ever did another mean or wrong or dishones
thing, should have bsen the biggest eur earth.
got . chance IN New Zealand, and should like
him to know that lis words made a man Of me.
This is poar sort Of letter. but can't say what
| feel and | won't try. Trusting to hear from you
per return, yours respectfully, ADAM BROWN.
And that is the not wholly unsatisfae-
tory end OF sad story. suppose that the
first check must have been some sort Of a
blunder, and that an obstinate mans sup
position that forgery ON somebody else's
part was more profitable than . blundeT
on his own, resulted in-what we have
seen. intended, when l set ont, to point
a good number of morals, legal and other
wise. But viii content myself with two.