I probably should have told this story before, back when the retired president of a top American bank told it to me at a picnic on his ranch. It struck me at the time as true, if only because its psychological details were so specific, eccentric, and unflattering. The reason I didn’t tell it then was that the former bank executive was powerful and I feared I might land him in trouble in some way, which might get me in trouble in some way. (It’s exactly this class-based fear which drives the story.) Only when I learned the man had died did I feel free to pass on what he told me. I’ve done a bit of research on his story, which confirmed certain elements and cast doubt on others. That is why I present it not as news or journalism but as an urban legend, a folk tale. An exceedingly high-level folk tale whose theme is cowardice.