g cashier who has been given plenty of rope to run as he wants!
_I'm_ on the job _examining_ banks!" He was a vigorous man, Examiner
Starr! He showed it by the way he went at his corned beef.

President Britt was perturbed; his eyes shifted; he was even pale. "If
that's the way you feel about it, I hope you'll give our little bank a
good going-over. I was glad to read of your appointment, Mr. Starr!"

"Uncle Whittum isn't on this job any longer," stated the examiner, not
needing, in Britt's case, as a banker, to dwell upon the lax methods of
the easy-going predecessor.

A half hour later, Starr, with his unbuttoned fur-lined overcoat
outspread as he strode, giving him the aspect of a scaling aeroplane,
marched from the tavern to the bank with Britt.

Vaniman had his mouth opened to welcome a man named Barnes, but he
was presented to Bank-Examiner Starr and surprise placed him at a
disadvantage in the meeting. The torpor of drowsiness made him appear
stupid and ill at ease in the presence of this forceful man who stamped
in and proceeded to exploit and enjoy his newly acquired authority. Mr.
Starr hung up his coat and hat and swooped like a hawk on the daybook,
at the same time calling for the book of "petty cash."

"First of all, the finger on the pulse of the patient, Cashier," he
declared, grimly jovial. "Then we'll have a look at the tongue, and
study the other symptoms."

President Britt went away to his own office.

Examiner Starr, confining himself to his announced policy of grabbing
in on the running operations of the bank at the moment of his entry,
studied the petty-cash accounts and checked up the daybook with
thoroughness. He found everything all right and grunted his
acknowledgment of that discovery.

Then he began on the ledgers, assuring Vona with ponderous gallantry
that he wouldn't get in her way; he averred that he had a comparison
system of his own, and showed the pride of "the new broom."

After a time it was apparent that Mr. Starr was having trouble. He
added columns of figures over again and scowled; his system was plainly
trigged.

"Young lady, where's your comptometer?" he demanded, after he had made a
quick survey of the office.

"We have never used one, sir."

"One is indispensable these days in a bank--especially when a bookkeeper
can't add a column of figures correctly by the old method."

She flushed and her lips quivered. "I'm sure I do add correctly, sir. My
books always ba