Staunton spectator and vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1896-1916, 1897-04-15

fortune, but comfortable competency.
We now remembered that it was about
the time Of his father g death that Jack q
habits had undergone such a radical
change.
remember how we all envied him
when he was supposed to come into his
money; how we speculated as to what
he would do with it, but on one point
we all agreed-he would be the same
good old Jack, and we would enjoy
many of his little suppers and theater
parties. Had he not always treated us
this way at least once month when he
had nothing but his salary? Now that
he had come into money we could ex-
pect many nice evenings at dear Jacks
expense.
Jack was not well. He did not look
well. We all noticed it.
"Take vacation, old boy" said the
head bookkeeper. "You are not your
self. You are working too hard and not
giving yourself recreation enough -
could not think Of it, old man. Just
little indigestion. Be all right in q
day or two
But he wasn't all right. He looked
paler and thinner every day until one
morning he did not come down. We all
knew the reason. Nothing but sickness
and serious sickness would keep him
from the office. It was arranged that
we should hunt up his lodgings that
night and have him cared for and proper
, medical attention secured. We found
him in a cheap, small but clean room.
On the table, under the one gaslight, we
found two or three sets Of books Of small
concerns that did not employ regular
bookkeeper.
Jack had been doing their work at
night
Jack was on the bed tossing in the de-
lirium Of fever.
ST kept it clean, father-I kept it
clean" he mumbled over and over.
The doctor shook his head Poorly
Notwithstanding to him. Evidently
been on short rations. In no condition
to withstand this attack Of fever"
We explained to the doctor that, al
needy and poor, he would be paid for the
best attention to Jack and that, he must
J see him regularly and do everything
possible to save him. The kindly old
doctor assured US that he would receive
every attention, but said, with shake
Of his head: "He's in bad way-brain
fever, brought on by worry and fatigue
Evidently been burning the candle at
both ends. ="
We secured nurse, who was to be
with him every minute and attend to
his every want and communicate with
Us in case he grew worse. As we were
preparing to leave the room he raised
up in his delirium and threw his arms
around wildly. Noticed a paper clutch
ed in one of his hands. took it from
him. The mystery was solved. "Oh,
Jack, you noble work of God, you have
Kept it cleani God grant that it may
not be at the cost Of your own noble
life!'
The paper read as follows:
To MY soN-Dying. I bequeath you my
name. It's stained. am thief. No living
soul knows 1t. If could live awhile longer,
would not die with this stain on my soul. We
came Of long race Of honorable men, Jack.
It's hard legacy to leave a son, but as you
loved me in life keep my name clean in DEATH
have kept strict account of my populations
You will find it attached. It's scrupu1ously
correct. No more nor less do owe the great
institution of which have been the head for
SO many years. / have kept this account so
that could delude myself into thinking that
was only borrowing from the stockholders
They say all embezzlers do this. Pay it back
Jack, every cent, at per cent interest, and
believe the good Lord will scratch it off his
books against my otherwise clean name. God
bless and keep you. Your FATHER
Underneath, written in Jacks own
hand, was the following:
God bless you, father. I've done it. I've
paid the last farthing today. I've kept your
name clean. JACK.
The next day the papers contained &C.
counts Of how one of the city's largest
banking institutions had received large
sum Of money anonymously consigned
The institution had long known of the
shortage Of this amount, but had no idea
who the thief was.
It was weeks before Jack was able to
come to the Office again. He never
knew. and no soul shall ever know from
US, Jacks secret He is himself again
now, and the little tag on the collar Of
his fashionable coat was sewed there by
his own tailors.-W. G. Hill in St
Louis Post Dispatch.