HE Honorable Ogden propped the telegram against his wine glass, and re-read it between mouthfuls of frozen pudding. The Honorable Ogden's full title was Ogden Lapwell Kendall, President; and thus it appeared on the paper of three banks situated in as many cities of Colorado and Utah,—three banks which, in this month of July of the Year of Panic, One Thousand Eight Hundred and Ninety-three, were the means of keeping the Honorable Ogden awake o' nights, and of introducing gray hairs into that gentleman's dark, albeit scanty, locks. The telegram before him ran thus:—
“Copper Dip, Col., July 15. Ogden Kendall, The Albany, Denver. Run coming to-morrow. Must have eighteen thousand coin or currency by noon. Gordon reaches you midnight. Arrange special train. Wheeler.”
The Honorable Ogden refolded the yellow sheet and placed it in his pocket. Then he sipped his coffee reflectively, dipped his fingers carefully into the cut-glass howl, Selected a cigar from his case, accepted the lightced match proffered by the attentive waiter, and arose at length, with his course of action decided upon.
At the hotel office he ordered a messenger sent to his room, and when that youth arrived, three notes were lying ready for him on the desk. At their side lay also a bright silver dollar.
“Now, my son,” said the Honorable Ogden, “this is not an all-night job. I want answers to those three messages here in just one hour. It is now twelve minutes after eight; at twelve minutes after nine I want to see you back here. Can you see that dollar?” The boy nodded with a grin. “Well, at twelve minutes after nine that dollar is yours; at thirteen minutes after it is mine. Now git!”
Three hours later a ball boy tapped at the door and brought in a card.
“'Mr. Stephen Gordon?' Show him up,” said the Honorable Ogden.
In a moment the cashier of the First National Bank of Copper Dip entered. He was rather a small man, whose twinkling eyes swept comprehensively around the room as he shook hands with the host and took the proffered chair. The Honorable Ogden drew a small table bearing bottles and glasses toward the cashier, and then took a seat within comfortable distance. “Now,” he said, “how did it happen?”
Gordon lighted a cigar. “Lippenstein,” ho answered succinctly.
The Honorable Ogden nodded. I was afraid of him. I told Wheeler it was bad policy to push him last spring.,”
It was Gordon's turn to nod. Then he continued:—
“He started the rumor this morning that we were going to close the doors. Luckily the rumor didn't get around till after two o'clock. If it had, we should be broke now. Down at the Yard they took to it at once. It isn't necessary to remind you that our depositors are three fifths railway men. The ranchers cut a small figure. The town deposits represent about a fifth. To-morrow morning they'll be waiting at the door when we open up. We've got enough to keep agoing until noon. The ranchers can't hear the rumor until morning; they'll begin to flock in at noon. We've got to have the cash there by twelve o'clock, or it will be all up.”
“Did Wheeler try Gillam?”
“Yes; Gillam refused. If we go, it will be nuts for them. Half the deposits withdrawn to-morrow will go to them the next day.”
“The Hill County at Salida closed this moon,” said the Honorable Ogden musingly.
“And the Second National at Carrollton won't last through to-morrow,” replied Gordon. “I got it from Smith; he came down on the train with me.”
The other sighed audibly.
“I tell you, Gordon, there won't be six banks standing in Denver a month from now; I know it! And whether the Farmers' and Traders will weather it, I can't tell; but I'll make a fight for it. I'm all right in Salt Lake; over there they don't know that there in a panic. But here—” he stopped and smoked awhile in silence. “Well, we can pull through at Copper Dip.”
“Thank God!” said the cashier fervently.
“I don't like your coming over. It will look bad to-morrow not to see you there. Why didn't Wheeler send some one else?”
“There was no one else.”
“What was the matter with Upham?”
The cashier grunted.