p. 322 | The Gold Double-Eagle by Young Reaper

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Jul 19, 1883

The Gold Double-Eagle.

By Young Reaper

A GOOD many years ago, a merchant missed from his cash-drawer a gold double-eagle, which is worth twenty dollars. No one had been to the drawer, it was proved, except a young clerk whose name was Weston. The merchant had sent him there to make change for a customer, and the next time the drawer was opened the gold had disappeared. Naturally, Weston was suspected of having stolen it, and more especially as he appeared a few days after the occurrence in a new suit of clothes. Being asked where he had bought the clothes, he gave the name of the tailor without hesitation; and the merchant, going privately to make inquiries, discovered that Weston had paid for the suit with a twenty-dollar gold piece.

That afternoon the young clerk was called into the merchant's private room and charged with the theft.

"It is needless to deny it," the merchant said. "You have betrayed yourself with these new clothes, and now the only thing you can do is to make a full confession of your fault."

Weston listened with amazement; he could hardly believe at first that such an accusation could be brought against him, but when he saw that his employer was in earnest, he denied it indignantly, and declared that the money he had spent for the clothes was his own, given him as a Christmas gift a year ago. The merchant sneered at such an explanation, and asked for the proof.

"Who was the person that gave it to you? Produce him," he demanded.

"It was a lady," answered Weston, "and I can't produce her, for she died last spring. I can tell you her name."

"Can you bring me anybody that saw her give you the money, or knew of your having it?" asked the merchant.

"No, I can't do that," Weston had to answer. "I never told any one about the gift, for she did not wish me to. But I have a letter from her somewhere, if I haven't lost it, that she sent with the money, and in which she speaks of it."

"I dare say you have lost it," the merchant sneered. "When you have found it, sir, you bring it to me, and then I will believe your story."

Weston went home with a heavy heart. He had no idea where the letter was; he could not be sure that he had not destroyed it; and it was the only means of proving his innocence. Unless he could produce it his character was ruined, for he saw that the merchant was fully convinced of his guilt, and appearances were, indeed, sadly against him. He went to work, however, in the right way. He knelt down and prayed to God for help to prove that he was innocent, and then he began to overhaul the contents of his desk and trunk and closet.

He kept his papers neatly, and it did not take long to see that the letter was not among them. He sat down with a sense of despair when he was convinced of this. What else could he do? Nothing, but pray again for help and guidance, and strength to endure whatever trouble God might choose to send upon him. Skeptics may sneer at such prayers as this, but Weston, who is a middle-aged man now, prosperous, respected by all men, and deserving of respect, would smile and say: "Let them sneer."

"When I rose from my knees," he said, telling me the story years afterward, "I happened to catch my foot in an old rug that I had nailed down to the carpet because it was always curling at the edges. The nail at the corner had come out, and stooping down to straighten the rug I saw a bit of paper peeping out. I pulled it from its hiding place, and it was the letter."

"How it got there I don't know. The fact that I had found it was enough for me, and if I hadn't gone on my knees again to give thanks for such a deliverance, I should be ashamed to tell you the story now."

"I brought that letter to my employer. It proved my innocence, and he apologized. A month afterward the gold piece was found in Mr. Finch's overcoat. He had never put it in the cash drawer at all, though he thought he had."

He raised my salary on the spot to pay for his unjust suspicions; and I have never yet repented of trusting the Lord in my trouble.