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Show "Maybe," said Ackers c:i list i a I Iv. "but this tiling's strictly between ns two, and you understand. I dmi't want to ho shut up in a madhouse for the rest of my days. ' Bn"cfc to your job; and when you got outside that door this is forgotten.'' When Joe had gone, mum'bling blessings bless-ings on his head. Ackers looked at tin? telegram whieh lie still held in his hand, and smiled. "I've certainly done my hest for Joe," he reflected. And, transferring t lie packages of hills to the large, interior pockets of his own coat, he closed the safe and made his way out of the building in the direction of the depot, to catel the night train for St. Louis. ' 1 1 1 : i t i i ; 1 1 1 s i i : : : i p i ; 1 1 1 1 1 l ; ; i : ; ; : 1 1 : 1 1 1 1 Old Joe's I Lapse j By AUSTIN FLEET I .ii!iimimiiiimiiii:mniii;!mi:!!!:!in;,Y- j Copyright, 122, Wcmero Newspaper L'ulun. Harvey Ackers, the president of the County Farmers' bank, sat late at his ' desk. It was common gossip In town that the County Farmers' was in a bad way. There had been a run on the Institution that day, and the next day-would day-would hnd it straining all its resources to meet the rush of withdrawals. Ackers was puzzling, working desperately des-perately as he sat there alone that evening. eve-ning. But his mind would wander. He was thinking at the moment that, of all his acquaintances in town, there was not a single friend whom he could summon to help him in Ids difficulty. How many friends had he? lie could j count them on his lingers. There was his brother Tom, whom he had not I seen in twenty years ; there was a woman in St. Louis, whom he intended to see very soon ; and there was why, there was Old Joe, the watchman. Old Joe's devotion to Ackers was one of the jokes of the bank. Since the day, two years before, when Ackers, on an impulse, had given Old Joe fifty dollars to help pay for ids sick wife's operation, the old man had watched him with the trustful eyes of a dog. When Harvey had grippe, Old Joe had inquired about him at his door three times a day. " Ackers smiled. It was peculiar, Old Joe's devotion. It touched him in a way, too. He always passed the time of day to Joe when he enterc-d the bank. Sometimes Old Joe asked his advice about his son at college. Old Joe was very proud of the hoy. And Ackers wondered of what use their friendship was. Suddenly he stiffened in his chair. Some sixth sense in him had given l:im warning. He did not know what the warning .portended, but instinctively instinc-tively he thought of the safe in the vault below. It was all nonsense, of course, but Ackers hurriedly glanced at the telegram tele-gram he was writing ito the girl in St. Louis. "Meet me at depot 4.25," it ran. He was going to see her on the morrow. mor-row. He had not seen her for a whole year. They would have a happy time together. Then he made his way out of his office, of-fice, went softly down the stairs, and, with his key, unlocked the door of the vault. Instantly he stood stock still in amazement, at what he saw. Old Joe was on his knees before the open vault, busily transferring bundles of bills into a leather bag. At the sound of the click of the key Old Joe turned round, and remained, crouching upon his knees, and looking up at Ackers in consternation and horror. Ackers was unarmed, hut he felt confident that, if Old Joe had a pistol, he would not go to the length of using it. He strode forward. "I'm sorry to see this, ,loe," he said, in matter-of-fact tones that surprised him as he littered them. "How did it happen?" And Joe was equally succinct. "It's that boy of mine, Mr. Ackers," he said, almost whimpering. "He's got into trouble. He's going to be pinched unless it's a thousand dollars, Mr. Ackers, and and I went mad, I guess." "So you've been in the business before?" be-fore?" asked Ackers sternly. Old Joe gulped. "Twenty years ago, sir," lie answered, "And I'm ready to go to the pen. I took a chance. You've caught nie with the goods." Ackers appeared to hesitate; a frown wrinkled his forehead. "Joe," he said at last, "the hest men are tempted sometimes. It doesn't pay, Joe: I'm not speaking on moral principles, but it doesn't pay. You foo, don't you see discovery was certain?" cer-tain?" Joe looked dumbly up at the president, presi-dent, the faintest gleam of hope in his eyes leaping into ecstasy at Ackers' next words. "Joe, I'm not going to send you to the pen. I know temptation comes to all of us." "God bless you, sir," fullered Old Joe. It was clear that the old man was utterly abject. Ackers took the bundles out of the hag anil counted them. "Forty-five thousand, Joe," he said. "You certainly were going some. Here!" He peeled off a roll of yellowbacks. yellow-backs. "Here's your thousand. You can pay me hark during the remainder of your working clays here. Now skip!" Joe fell at bis feet. "You mean you won't have mo arresled, Mr. Ae!;ers, and you'll lend nie the iiioivy?" he babbled. "God bless yon-uli. He'll |