ith great show, a little branch down in
New Brunswick; supposing you went there and found that the bank had
practically no business because it wouldn't oblige the community, and
you started to lend money on good security, believing that a bank
should be an asset to, not a leech on, the country. Supposing you
suddenly had the branch taken away from you, because you tried to make
it, and were making it, a benefit to the community--and were sent back
to a sweat-shop on reduced pay: then supposing a bright young fellow
came into the branch with the dreams you used to dream yourself, when a
boy--tell me, wouldn't you try to make him understand what a fool he
was?"

For answer Evan asked a question:

"Is that what they did to you?"

"Yes, and that's what they've done to dozens of managers. Every other
bank has done the same thing to some of its old stand-bys."

"Well," said Evan, "don't they do the same thing in other lines of
business, in corporations and so on?"

"I hope not," replied Key, tearing a voucher with his pencil; "but even
if they do that doesn't excuse the banks. I suppose all trusts pull
off arbitrary stunts, but the bank trust is the only one I happen to
have personal experience in."

"A fellow simply has to trust to luck, I suppose," replied Evan. "Some
fellows seem to get along well enough in the bank."

Key grunted.

"There are two kinds that eventually get the best that the bank
has--that's little enough: First, the willies with a pull, and second,
the sissies who siss. The fellow with originality and get-up is choked
off, sooner or later. He usually manages to offend head office early
in his career, and the rest of his bank life is--like mine! There are
occasional lucky ones, as you say; but personally I'm not very strong
for charms and stars. A fellow who has nothing stronger than luck to
bank on may make a good race-track tout or fortune heeler, but not a
business man. Don't work for any corporation or at any job where
you're, so far as the position itself is concerned, dispensable; unless
you are necessary to your employer, whether he be a magnate or an acre
of land, jump the job."

Castle was passing.

"Key," he said, in his falsetto-femina voice, "you're too slow at that
calling. The clearing men need Nelson on a machine from now on.
You'll have to do less talking and faster work."

The grey-haired clerk reddened, but said nothing, aloud. What he said
under his breath was su