BANKING.

My connection with the banking business in Puyallup was neither a venture nor an adventure, in the common acceptance of the meaning of these words, and to this day I can scarcely account for my action. I am sure that I was not "cut out" for a banker, and the business had no attraction for me. I did want to see a national bank established in Puyallup, and so took $10,000.00 of the stock, became a member of the directory, and committed the grave indiscretion of letting others "run the bank" without giving it personal attention.

In the lapse of time parties controlling a majority of the stock "run it into the ground," to use a western phrase, that is, loaned to their cousins and their aunts, to themselves indirectly, and to others indiscreetly, until matters looked shaky. Suddenly "business" called these parties to other and more attractive fields, and lo, and behold, I became a bank president.

This was just before the time of the panic, and the question of what was to become of the bank became one of the utmost concern. The notes were nearly all hypothecated to secure loans from other banks, while the tightening times caused the deposits to run down; the securities could not be realized upon, and the banks holding them called for their loans. The depositors, about one hundred in number, were all my neighbors, and men and women of small means. One thing was certain—could not continue to receive deposits with the knowledge I had of the affairs of the bank, either with safety to myself or the depositors. So one day when the deposits had run to a very low ebb, and the cash balance correspondingly low, and a threatening demand had been made by one of the secured banks, it was evident the time had come when the bank must go into the hands of a receiver and what money was on hand to be frittered away in receiver's fees, or pay out the money on hand to the depositors, and let the creditor banks collect on their collaterals. It was impracticable to pay depositors in part, or part of them in full. October 16th, 1895, on my own responsibility I obtained enough, with the funds of the bank in hand, to pay the depositors in full. An attorney for one of the secured creditors of the bank suspected what was going on, and believing the money was on my person undertook to detain me in an office in Tacoma until papers could be gotten out and served. But he was too late, as A. R. Herlig, my attorney, was already in Puyallup with the funds, with directions to take all the funds of the bank at nightfall, and with the cashier, George Macklin, now of Portland, go to each depositor, and without explanation insist on their taking the money due them. Charles Hood, of Puyallup, and, I think, John P. Hartman, now of Seattle, was of the party. Two trusted men with guns were sent along to guard the funds. In fact, all carried guns, and so the story went out that the bank had sent each depositor what was due him, and sent men along with guns to make him take it. This became an alleged witticism for a long time in Puyallup, but finally wore itself out. The result was that before four o'clock next morning all the depositors were paid, except four, who could not be found, and the next day the bank was open just the same as if nothing had happened, but all deposits were refused. The attempted holdup in Tacoma, resulted in nothing more serious than a scuffle, the loss of a collar button or two, with plenty of threats, but no action.

I took the train for Puyallup, went to bed at the usual hour, and slept soundly, as I always do.

As expected, in a few days a bank examiner came to take possession of the bank, having received direct orders from Washington from Mr. Eckles, the comptroller. In a week he was willing to quit, and asked that the bank should be turned over to the directors, and was ordered to do so. The affairs of the bank were closed up without litigation, but the capital was gone, and all that was left was the furniture and the charter, which is held to be valid to this day, and so it would seem I am yet the president of the First National Bank of Puyallup, and have been for nearly twenty years.

A few years ago the late Charles Fogg, of Tacoma, acting as an attorney for a group of capitalists, undertook to marshal the scattered and really worthless stock with a view to rehabilitate the bank and save the name, but were met by some obstinate stockholders who refused to either co-operate or dispose of their holdings and so the bank sleeps though not dead. Possibly when the "Rip Van Winkle sleep" has lapsed and when the little city of Puyallup has reached the twenty-thousand mark of inhabitants and one or two more of the recalcitrant stockholders die (one of the chief obstructionists died since the attempt was made), the bank may reappear as one of the institutions of the rising city of Puyallup.