Commerce High School - Commerce Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

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“Yes. The issuing of the check is recorded, but there is do entry of a draft such as is mentioned iu the records.” “We’ll have to ask Mr. Morganheimer, Jr. He attends to the drafts.” Frank said. “All right,—Robert, I want to see you for a while.” “Yes, sir,” Robert Morganheimer said as he came up. His knees suddenly became weak, his face pale, as he said to himself, “It’s coming.” “Here is a check that has been issued in payment of a draft of which there is no trace whatever. Do you know anything of it?” the Cashier asked. “Just a minute, I will look in my books,” he answered. Hoping to strengthen a suspicion that he felt sure was resting on his rival, he made a show of looking carefully through his books. “No, sir, I can’t find any trace of it?” he finally said, “and I am sure that I have recorded everything, according to your directions. The Cashier looked worried. He knew that Frank’s honesty was unquestionable. But everything seemed to point to Frank as the guilty party. “Well Frank, we have made a thorough search for it before and can’t find it. It throws a suspicion on you. What have you to say.” “Sir,” he answered, “I am absolutely innocent.” “I am sure you are innocent. However, we will have to see Mr. Morganheimer. Somebody must have been a little careless. I cannot see how this turn of affairs could have happened otherwise. You had better come along also, Robert.” he said as they walked toward the president’s office. “Well, what is it?” Mr. Morganheimer asked as he looked up. The Cashier then explained the whole matter to him. The president’s face became grave when the Cashier finished. A look of anxiety, that had swept over his face at hearing the account and seeing his son, gave place to one of hope as he glanced at Frank and felt that he read guilt. “Well, what do you make of the matter?” he asked Mr. Winthrop. “Appearances are against Frank, but I cannot believe he would do anything of such a nature.” Mr. Morganheimer studied for a long time. Meanwhile Frank was as pale as a sheet. Ilis knees shook. Visions of the penitentiary flitted before his eyes. Who could have written this check, and, how had this state of affairs come about? These questions passed through his mind one after the other. Had he forgotten that he had written it? No. Besides, he always kept records of the checks he wrote, and he had none of this one. Had he let somebody else write it and then signed it himself? But, no, he never did that, and his memory was not conscious of doing it. He racked his brain for ways in. which this check could be accounted for and then turned down every one. At last he gave up in utter despair. Then he saw his mother, a widow, weeping for him and hiding her face from the world because of the shame that had come to her innocent son, for she would feel sure he could be nothing but innocent. How she, who had struggled in his boyhood so fiercely to drive the wolf from her door and to keep the 122

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There, the same thing happened. The other directors wanted to let the Cashier have his way, but the power of Mr. Morganheimer was so great that they had to side with the president. The Cashier became angry at this and threatened to resign. The directors began to rebel also, at seeing this turn of affairs. The president then made a frantic attempt to get the place for his son. In this he failed, and now he saw his designs in danger of being utterly frustrated. He made a final effort to prevent Frank from being advanced to the position, but in vain, for the Cashier would not yield in the least, and Frank was advanecd. While Mr. Morganheimer was obliged to accept for his son the place vacated by Frank. However, that is another story. Let us return to Robert Morganheimer. He is sitting at his desk brooding and mumbling to himself. If we listen closely, we can make out what he is saying: “I'll get even with that fellow, Frank, for doing me out of that place. The nerve that the beggar has shown by playing on the sympathies of the Cashier and getting the place when my father is the president of this bank! I'll get even with him all right. The question of how I can do it alone remains to be solved. He sat there, his head in his hands, a frown on his face, brooding and thinking. He looked the part of a perfect conspirator. “I have it, he almost shouted as he sprang from his chair, shaking his fist, with a look of devilish glee on his face. “He signs all Cashier Checks. I’ll forge a check, payable to bearer, with his name and he’ll get caught, appropriating money after it is cashed. But, he hesitated, “I might get caught. He considered the full import of his last words. However, such a plan of getting even, appealed to him too much to be given up. “It’s a good idea though. I’ve got to get even with him. O. he suddenly cried, as a new thought struck him, “I can get the check cashed and pay my ‘private’ debts with the money. I am hard-up at present and the old man is getting tight-fisted, so I can kill two birds with one stone. I’ll make it safe enough so I can’t get caught. IV. “Frank, come here just for a second, the Cashier called. “Yes, sir, what is itf he asked as he came up. “I have here a Cashier’s Check, signed by you, for $2,000 that is recorded in payment of a draft, record of which I cannot find in the files. Have you any idea where it is or whether it was received at allf “Let me seek the check, Mr. Winthrop, and I may be able to tell you, Frank said as he took the paper from the Cashier’s hand and scrutinized it carefully. “I don’t remember ever giving out such a paper at all, but it looks like my signature though. he said after a while. “Is it recorded in all the books T 121

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roof over their head, might now feel when a worse calamity should overwhelm her in her last days. She would die if her son were proved a criminal. lie reeled as he saw this and caught hold of a chair just in time to save himself from falling. “Young man, what have you to say?” The words of the president fell on his ear like a thunderbolt. Making an almost Herculean effort to keep calm, he said, “Sir, I know nothing about the check.” “But you see we have the paper here with your own signature as you acknowledge. How could it have gotten past you when you signed it? “I never signed that check at all, although the signature looks like mine. It is a forgery,” bravely asserted Frank, trusting that his innocence would be established. “Well sir, the only way to settle that, is in the court. I’ll have to call the police,” arid so saying Mr. Morganheimer picked up the telephone receiver. Frank dropped into a chair; he could hardly breathe, and hope seemed to give place to despair. “Arrested,” the word came unconsciously. “Before you act hastily, sir,” the cashier suddenly interrupted, “You should be sure. Have we not, just now in the bank, a hand-writing expert? Have him tell you whether the signature is false or true.” The President again showed that look of anxiety, as he recalled that a hand-writing expert had been only that day called in to test the validity of a paper that bore his own signature. Frank’s face lit up at that little gleam of hope. “It is unnecessary,” Mr. Morganheimer said, “but it can do no harm.” He accordingly called the expert, who immediately entered the office. “Mr. Penman, here is a check with a doubtful signature. I would like to know whether it is false or not.” “Can I have a few specimens of the real signature,” said the expert, hoping in this case he could readily come to a decision and retrieve his reputation, which was almost lost by his failure to decide the validity of a paper that very morning. “Certainly. Frank, sign your name a few times here, and Mr. Winthrop. will you please bring in our copy of Mr. Webster’s signature.” Frank signed in an easy manner, and soon the Cashier returned with the regular signature, which tallied exactly with the last. The expert examined them closely and then examined the check. He took out a lens and a rule, drew a few lines on the check and the specimens, and examined them very closely. Meanwhile each held his breath, awaiting the verdict. Was it to be “No”? Was it to be “Yes”? Frank balanced himself by gripping his chair. “No” would mean the penitentiary for him and poverty for his mother. “Yes” he would stay. The expert looked up. He began to speak. 123