The Sturgis wager : $b A detective storyMorette, Edgar
General
The Sturgis wager : $b A detective story
Morette, Edgar
Detective and mystery stories; Journalists -- Fiction; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
"The next day I took my first step in crime, by making such entries
as would insure the honoring of Seymour's check. After that I was
completely in the power of these two men. It was not long before
I discovered that I had been their dupe. Chatham's accomplice was
not the true Withers; for this man, a few days later, made a large
deposit, which more than covered his previous overdraft. The false
Withers was Henry Seymour himself.
"As soon as I had committed a felony, it became unnecessary for
Seymour to keep up any further pretense of a desire to refund the
money I had helped him steal. I was now in the meshes of crime as
deeply as my accomplices; and, from that time to this, they have
forced me to act as their catspaw. During this period of two years
the bank has been robbed in this way of over $250,000.00, every
cent of which has gone to Chatham and Seymour.
"You can perhaps imagine what a hell my life has been during that
time. With prison and disgrace staring me in the face; and with the
absolute conviction that exposure must inevitably come sooner or
later, I have suffered the tortures of the damned. At the bank, I
have been in a perpetual state of suspense. I have started at every
word spoken to me; I have seen suspicion in every glance which has
met mine; I have trembled and paled at every approach of one of the
officers of the bank. And yet I have not dared to absent myself
from my desk for an hour, lest an examination of my books during
my absence should reveal my crime. I have been the first to reach
the bank in the morning and the last to leave it at night; I have
not even taken the few minutes during the day which would have been
required to enable me to obtain a hurried meal. On one pretext or
another, during the last two years, I have had to forego my annual
vacation. I have dragged myself to my post when I was so ill that I
could hardly stand, because I could not afford to have any one take
charge of my books for even an hour. And all that time, with a full
realization of my degradation and infamy, I have been forced to
continue my frauds, knowing that each one brought me nearer to the
inevitable final exposure; but knowing equally well that a refusal
on my part to continue my stealings would result in an instant
betrayal by my accomplices.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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