The detectives hunted down the criminals; the chief
one proved to be George Benton. A wide sympathy
was felt for the widow and orphans of the dead man,
and all the newspapers in the land begged that all
the banks in the land would testify their appreciation
of the fidelity and heroism of the murdered cashier
by coming forward with a generous contribution of
money in aid of his family, now bereft of support.
The result was a mass of solid cash amounting to
upward of five hundred dollars—an average
of nearly three-eights of a cent for each bank in
the Union. The cashier’s own bank testified
its gratitude by endeavoring to show (but humiliatingly
failed in it) that the peerless servant’s accounts
were not square, and that he himself had knocked his
brains out with a bludgeon to escape detection and
punishment.
George Benton was arraigned for trial. Then
everybody seemed to forget the widow and orphans in
their solicitude for poor George. Everything
that money and influence could do was done to save
him, but it all failed; he was sentenced to death.
Straightway the Governor was besieged with petitions
for commutation or pardon; they were brought by tearful
young girls; by sorrowful old maids; by deputations
of pathetic widows; by shoals of impressive orphans.
But no, the Governor—for once—would
not yield.
Now George Benton experienced religion. The
glad news flew all around. From that time forth
his cell was always full of girls and women and fresh
flowers; all the day long there was prayer, and hymn-singing,
and thanksgiving, and homilies, and tears, with never
an interruption, except an occasional five-minute
intermission for refreshments.
This sort of thing continued up to the very gallows,
and George Benton went proudly home, in the black
cap, before a wailing audience of the sweetest and
best that the region could produce. His grave
had fresh flowers on it every day, for a while, and
the head-stone bore these words, under a hand pointing
aloft: “He has fought the good fight.”
The brave cashier’s head-stone has this inscription:
“Be pure, honest, sober, industrious, considerate,
and you will never—”
Nobody knows who gave the order to leave it that way,
but it was so given.
The cashier’s family are in stringent circumstances,
now, it is said; but no matter; a lot of appreciative
people, who were not willing that an act so brave
and true as his should go unrewarded, have collected
forty-two thousand dollars—and built a Memorial
Church with it.
THE FIVE BOONS OF LIFE
Chapter I
In the morning of life came a good fairy with her
basket, and said:
“Here are gifts. Take one, leave the others.
And be wary, chose wisely; oh, choose wisely! for
only one of them is valuable.”
The gifts were five: Fame, Love, Riches, Pleasure,
Death. The youth said, eagerly:
Copyrights
The 30,000 Dollar Bequest and Other Stories from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
