e mite offended. 'Let your light shine and your
voice be heard,' is my motto in politics."

"Shouldn't wonder if it's a good one, when they get to passing around
the offices," admitted Files. He started on his way to the kitchen.

At that moment President Britt entered, having answered the gong with
the promptitude of a fireman chasing a box alarm.

"What have you on the fire, landlord?" called Mr. Starr, absorbed in the
dinner topic.

"Boiled dinner!"

Britt did not show the enthusiasm that was exhibited by the other guest.

"Nothing like a boiled dinner after a long ride," Mr. Starr affirmed.
"Plenty of cabbage with mine, if you'll be so kind!"

Files gave Mr. Britt some information that he thought might be of
interest. "Here's the new bank examiner. Seeing that you probably have
business together, I'll set both of you at the same table." He retired.

After the commonplaces of getting acquainted, the two tacked the boiled
dinner.

"Let's see--who's your cashier?" inquired Starr, chewing vigorously
behind the mask of his mustache.

"Young fellow named Vaniman. I have let him take full charge of the bank
business. He seems to know all the ropes."

"Poor policy, Britt! Poor policy!" stated the examiner, vehemently. "Not
a word to say against Vaniman--" He halted on the word and opened his
eyes on Britt. "Vaniman! A name that sticks. There was a Vaniman of
Verona. Easy to remember! There was some sort of a money snarl, as I
recollect."

"It was the young chap's father."

"And you're letting the son run your bank?"

"I'm not the kind that visits the sins of the fathers on the children,"
loftily stated the president. "Furthermore, a burnt child dreads the
fire. I heard a railroad manager say that a trainman who had let an
accident happen by his negligence was worth twice as much to the road as
he was before. You don't say that I made a bad pick, do you?"

"Not a word to say against Vaniman!" repeated Starr, slashing his
cabbage. "I never _guess_ about any proposition--I go at it! But what
I'm saying to you, Britt, is what I'm saying to all the easy-going
country-town bankers. 'You may have second editions of the Apostle
Paul for your cashiers,' I say, 'but every time you sign a statement of
condition without close and careful audit you're bearing false witness.'
And being a new broom that proposes to sweep clean, I'm tempted to
poke it just as hard to slack presidents and directors as I am to an
embezzlin