“I am far from sure that I can disentangle my affairs,” said the Judge.

“There is nothing like trying, you know.”  Wallingford spoke in a tone of encouragement.  “And everything may depend on beginning in time.  In what way are you involved with him?”

It was some time before Judge Bigelow answered this direct question.  He then replied,

“Heavily in the way of endorsements.”

“Of his individual paper?”

“Yes.  Also of the paper of his firm.”

“To an extent beyond your ability to pay if there should be failure on their part?”

“Yes; to three times my ability to pay.”

Wallingford dropped his eyes to the floor, and sat for some time.  He then looked up into Judge Bigelow’s face, and said,

“If that be so, I can see only one way for you.”

“Say on.”

“Let no more endorsements be given from this day forth.”

“How can I suddenly refuse?  The thing has been going on for years.”

“You can refuse to do wrong on the plea of wrong.  If your name gives no real value to a piece of paper, yet accredits it in the eyes of others, it is wrong for you to place your endorsement thereon.  Is not this so?”

“I admit the proposition, Henry.”

“Very well.  The only way to get right, is to start right.  And my dear, dear sir! let me implore you to take immediately the first step in a right direction.  Standing outside of the charmed circle of temptation as I do, I can see the right way for your feet to walk in better than you can.  Oh, sir!  Let me be eyes, and hand, and feet for you if need be; and if it is not too late, I will save you from impending ruin.”

Wallingford took the old man’s hand, and grasped it warmly as he spoke.  The Judge was moved by this earnest appeal, coming upon him so unexpectedly; and not only moved, but startled and alarmed by the tenor of what was said.

“The first thing,” he remarked, after taking time to get his thoughts clear, “if I accept of your friendly overtures, is for me to lay before you everything just as it is, so that you can see where I stand, and how I stand.  Without this, your view of the case would be partial, and your conclusions might not be right.”

“That is unquestionably so,” Wallingford replied.  “And now, Judge, if you wish my friendly aid, confide in me as you would a son or brother.  You will find me as true as steel.”

A revelation succeeded that filled Mr. Wallingford with painful astonishment.  The endorsements of Judge Bigelow, on paper brought to him by Dewey, and of which he took no memorandums, covered, no doubt, from a hundred to a hundred and fifty thousand dollars!  Then, as to the affairs of the Clinton Bank, of which Judge Bigelow was still the President, he felt a great deal of concern.  The Cashier and Mr. Dewey knew far more about the business and condition of the institution than anybody else, and managed it pretty much in their