If I had been as wise at the moment as I became by subsequent reflection I should have summoned all my powers of eloquence to convince him that the safety of the bank as a part of the commercial structure of the city lay in getting that fund promptly released for use in the coming crisis. The arguments with which I could have supported such a thesis came to me in abundance a day later. But at the moment I was stricken dumb and my wits were scattered by the thought that Wharton Kendrick had used for his own purposes a half-million dollars of the syndicate’s money, and was to be dishonored before the world. Before I could recover myself the president had bowed me out of his room, and I was mechanically guided by my subconscious self to Wharton Kendrick’s office. In my bewilderment I came into collision with a man who stood by the door, and begged his pardon without getting an impression of his personality. "Why, God bless my soul, Hampden! What’s the matter with you? You run over a man without even the politeness to call out ’Hi there!’ and then you look at him as though it was the first time you’d ever set eyes on him. Is this the day you pick out to send your wits a-wool-gathering? Where’s Kendrick? I see by the papers there was a row up at his house last night, and he got a nasty knock on the head." It was General Wilson, looking more fiery and self-important than ever. "What’s the matter?" he continued, slapping me jovially on the back. "Is Kendrick worse hurt than the papers say? You look as though the bank had broken." I told the general of the assault on Kendrick and of his perilous condition, and the general puffed out his red cheeks, blew out his breath with a noise like a porpoise, and cursed the mob with a heartiness and good will that was inspiring. "Put me in charge of this town for twenty-four hours, and I’d hang every mother’s son of those agitators higher than Haman," said the general, when the ready stock of curses ran out. "That’s the way to deal with ’em. But cheer up! Kendrick will be all right in a few days." I felt an inward shrinking from telling General Wilson the rest of the woeful truth. But the truth would be the property of the street within an hour, and it could not be made worse by trusting it to even so garrulous a confidant as he. Perhaps I had a faint hope that the old campaigner might make a suggestion that would help me out of my difficulties; but the overmastering thought in my mind was that I held the position of a conductor of a runaway train that was plunging down a mountain grade to certain wreck, and it did not matter what I did or said. So taking the general into Wharton Kendrick’s office, I told him my tale of the dishonored check. He took it more calmly than I had expected. "How much did you say he’s overdrawn?" he asked in businesslike tones. "Five hundred thousand dollars." "That was the deuce of a mistake for Kendrick to make. Can’t you get him to correct it?"