130
The University Courier.
LITERARY.
They Prevent a Run.
The late financial panic called into play the ingenuity of every man, and some of the schemes that were divided to divert disastrous results are strictly original.
This last summer I was traveling through the southern part of Texas, and had stopped off in a small town whose people were mostly cattle dealers. There was one bank in the place. It had been organized entirely by stockmen who had the necessary capital and who believed that it did not pay to send their money out of the country. They had employed a young man, who was a friend of mine, as cashier and general manager, and placed implicit confidence in him.
I came into town in the evening, and immediately went to look for my young banker friend. I found him in his room with a very solemn face; and he scarcely smiled when I came in. In reply to my question as to what was the matter, Tom said that he was afraid there was going to be a heavy run on the bank in the morning, and that they had not nearly enough cash on hand to supply their depositors. He said that the president and directors were all out in the country, and that he could get no word to them, for he dare not trust any of the town people, because if they got an idea of the danger of the bank, they would make the run on it all the heavier. As it was he could not leave the town to go up the road to the next large town where he said he could get enough money to carry them through.
I offered to do anything I could for him, and he finally decided to have me ride out to the president's ranch and tell him what was the letter, and have him come in and stay in the k while he (Tom) could leave on the midt train and bring the required funds back him the next day.
He wrote a short note to the president, explaining the situation,and telling him to get one or two of the directors to come in and stay in the bank until he could get back with the
cash, which would be about ten o'clock the next day, and to keep the bank running in some way until that time.
I got a horse and rode for several hours, until I came at last to my destination. I waked the president, and gave him the cashier's note. He told me that he would come in as soon as he could get a couple of the directors; and I came back to town.
By the time I had gotten back my friend had gone, and I went to bed for the remainder of the night.
I slept rather late the next morning, and by the time I had eaten breakfast it was nearly time for the train to come in, and bring Tom with the money. I hurried down to the station, and waited until the train came in. Tom was on board, and together we carried the species to the bank. We expected to see the street crowded with eager depositors, but not a sign of anyone around the bank doors.
"It can't be that they have closed the bank, can it?" said Tom. But no, the doors were wide open.
We hurried in and went around the counter. There sat the president in an armed chair, reading a newspaper, with a Winchester leaning conveniently against the wall. One of the directors was half asleep on a lounge, with a big six-shooter in his hand, and a shot gun lying by his side, while the other director was carefully polishing the brown barrel of a long Sharp's rifle. None of them said a word as we came in, but the cashier did not keep silent long.
"Hasn't there been any run? Where is everybody? What's the matter?"
The president looked up slowly from his paper, and said slowly:
"There hain't been no run."
"What! Haven't Dains, nor Williamson, nor Wheeler, nor any of those people been around?" asked Tom.
"Well, come to think on it," said the president very deliberately, "those people you mentioned did come around; and seems to me they did say something about having a little money in here; but they said right away that they