"The more I thought the matter over, the more I became convinced that there might be another way out of my trouble. Was it not probable that the depositor who had profited by my mistake, had done so innocently? If so, would he not be willing to repay the amount overdrawn? At the worst, if he should refuse to do this, might it not be possible for me to scrape together and borrow enough to make good the deficiency? In this way I could correct the blunder and no one would be the wiser for it. But what of that man Chatham? Would not his report betray me? I recalled his intimation that the nature of his report depended upon myself. What did he mean by that? Probably he would set a price upon his silence. This would add considerably to the amount I should have to raise; but would not this be better, after all, than the loss of my position. At any rate, I should not be any the worse off for listening to his proposal, whatever it might be. "That afternoon, as soon as the bank had closed, I called at the address Chatham had given me. He evidently expected me. With him was a man whom he introduced as James Withers, the depositor in whose favor my blunder had been made. Had I not been laboring under great excitement, it is likely that my suspicions would have been aroused by the strangeness of Withers' presence in Chatham's room. The two men received me pleasantly, and the alleged Withers, even before I could broach the subject, expressed his regret at hearing of the error which had been committed, and assured me of his willingness to re-imburse the bank; but----ah! there was an ominous 'but.' He was short of ready money just then; everything he had was tied up in a promising enterprise which was bound to bring in a magnificent profit in the course of a few days, if only he could raise a few paltry hundreds to enable him to hold out a little longer. If he failed to scrape together this small amount, all would be lost. Insidiously and relentlessly they drove me toward the trap they had prepared, and I was weak enough to fall into it. Before the interview was over, I had consented to allow Withers to still further overdraw his account, and I had received his solemn promise to refund, before the end of the week, the entire amount he owed the bank. Then Chatham suggested that it would be wiser to let the second overdraft come from another account. Withers agreed with him, and stated that the check could be made out in the name of Henry Seymour, a relative of his, who had recently opened a small account with the Knickerbocker bank. I strongly objected to sharing the secret of my infamy with any others; but I finally allowed myself to be overruled by the plausible scoundrels into whose clutches I had fallen.