Lewiston teller. [volume] (Lewiston, North Idaho) 1878-1900, 1896-01-16

d pllIdF OL uOuUf Ill
his community. is tragic drama. But
once in a while it happens that the
story of fatal mistake is neither told
by the daily press nor aired in the
courts; and when the tragedy is thus
whispered from mouth to mouth it
seems to come nearer home, and to af-
feet us more deeply than crime of pub
lie notoriety.
The treasurer of a large manufacture
ing company in the east, by reason of
his caution in hard times and his finan-
cial daring in prosperous times. had not
only doubled the resources of his COM
pany, but had accumulated property in
his own right.
Business men respected his intuitive
ability and apparent integrity, and his
neighbOrs honored him as a model citi-
zen. Women used to say to his wife.
How happy you must be with such n
noble husbandv'
No one lived a more open life than he
The president and directors of his COM
pany had long since given the whole
financial management of the business
into his charge, and the inspection of
the books was made so grudgingly and
so seldom that it had come to be hardly
more than form.
But one day, while the treasurer was
In the city, the president had occasion
to look at some papers in the safe. The
more he looked, the more interested and
the graver he became. He did not no.
tice the fight Of time, for he was exam
ing the accounts of years past. Before
he realized it the treasurer stood beside
him, with trembling limbs and ashen
face
There is an error in your books"
said the president, with severity. How
do you account for a deficit of over
thirty thousand dollars?"
my God!' cried Mr.. S. Don't have
me arrested. Think of my family.
Come with me; you shall have it ALL"
Terribly agitated, he dragged his ac-
cuser to his house. and up to an attic
room, of which he alone had the key.
There he opened secret panel, and
displayed to the astonished president
stocks. bonds and money, the accumula-
ZION OF years OF THEFT.
With tears streaming down his face,
he confessed the details and methods
OF his long-continued stealing.
why have you done this? You have
not used the money. Tell me why?"
AS his president asked these ques-
lions. the eyes of the wretched man gilt
tered strangely. He tried to answer,
and could not. With despairing ges-
ture he pushed the hoard away from
him and uttered great cry. Was 1t
possible that he was going mad?
In few days his physician pro-
nounced the embezz.er hopelessly in
sane He was not sent to an asylum,
but was confined in his own house with
suitable attendants. The company gen.
erously kept silent, and the cause of
their treasurer's insanity was not made
known to the public. His townsmen
to-day do not suspect it.
But day after day and night after
night, the patient wanders from his
sleeping-room to the attic chamber;
counting over imaginary papers and
muttering to himself, There is an err
tut. luGTe Is al error. mat is MS
ceaseless cry. Until he dies, in all prob
ability. his lips will form only those
four fateful words: There Is an err
rcr"
There ere few more striking illustra-
lions than this. of the fact that the soul
has it's own ledger, and it's own debit
and credit account with it's conscience
and it's God. The balancing of this
ledger, and the adjustment Of the ac-
count, must be considered sooner or
later. Happy is he. against whom
there is no charge that recalls unhal-
lowed deeds, and that stirs to acuteness
the consciousness OF just condemnation
by God and man.