It stood just forty-eight hours from the date of this prophecy, and then closed its doors, leaving our neighborhood poorer by the disaster over two hundred thousand dollars.  There was scarcely a struggle in dying, for the institution had suffered such an exhausting depletion that when its extremity came it passed from existence without a throe.  A Receiver was immediately appointed, and the assets examined.  These consisted, mainly, of bills receivable under discount, not probably worth now ten cents on the dollar.  Three-fourths of this paper was drawn or endorsed by New York firms or individuals, most of whom had already failed.  The personal account of Ralph Dewey showed him to be a debtor to the Bank in the sum of nearly a hundred thousand dollars.  The President, Joshua Kling, had not been seen since the evening of the day on which the doors of the Clinton Bank were shut, never to be opened for business again.  His accounts were all in confusion.  The Cashier, who had succeeded him on his elevation to the Presidency of the institution; was a mere creature in his hands; and from his revelations it was plain that robbery had been progressing for some time on a grand scale.

As soon as these disastrous facts became known to the heaviest sufferers in S——­, the proper affidavits were made out, and requisitions obtained for both Dewey and Kling, as defaulters and fugitives from justice.  The Sheriff of our county, charged with the duty of arrest, proceeded forthwith to New York, and, engaging the services of detectives there, began the search for Dewey, who, it was believed, had not left that city.  He was discovered, in a week, after having dexterously eluded pursuit, on the eve of departure for England, disguised, and under an assumed name.  His next appearance in S——­was as a prisoner in the hands of our Sheriff, who lodged him in jail.  Very heavy bonds being required for his appearance at court, there was not found among us any one willing to take the risk, who was qualified to become his surety.  And so the wretched man was compelled to lie in prison until the day of trial.

Immediately on his incarceration, he sent for Mr. Wallingford, who visited him without delay.  He found him a shrinking, cowed, and frightened culprit; not a man, conscious of rectitude, and therefore firm in bearing, though in a false and dangerous position.

“This is a bad business, Mr. Wallingford,” he said, on meeting the lawyer—­“a very bad business; and I have sent for you as a professional gentleman of standing and ability, in order to have a consultation in regard to my position—­in fact, to place myself wholly in your hands.  I must have the best counsel, and therefore take the earliest opportunity to secure your valuable services.  Will you undertake my case?”

“That will depend, Mr. Dewey,” was answered, “entirely upon how it stands.  If you are falsely accused, and can demonstrate to me your innocence, I will defend you to the utmost of my ability, battling your accusers to the last.  But if, on the contrary, you cannot show clean hands, I am not the one to undertake your case.”