lphur-tipped.

It seemed to Key that every time the boys took a minute off to discuss
personal affairs or the world outside the bank, a jealous bank demon
showed its teeth.

The sentiments of Robb and Key made quite an impression on Nelson, but
he argued that where there was so much said against the bank there must
be a good deal to be said in its favor. He might have used the same
argument with reference to a national evil, for instance.

"Hey, Nelson!" called Marks of the C's, "are you nearly through there?
We're in an awful mess here with the C---- Bank. Their clearing is
balled every day."

"All right," replied the cash-book man, leaving a few odds and ends of
his own work, "is it the Queen Street branch again?"

"Yes," said Cantel; "I think it's too near the Asylum grounds."

The savings man turned around and chuckled. "Mutt and Jeff get quite
humorous at times," he said, pointing to tall Marks and short Cantel.

The paying-teller laughed, so did Willis and the cash-book man. There
are moments of fun in a city bank, but they are brief and reactive.
The boys never get acquainted to any extent. They rarely help each
other out, either, for they all have their hands full, and every bit of
extra work they do reacts on their own post at night, early mornings,
or Sundays. Sometimes there is a utility man, but he either dies young
or prays for a move to the Maritime Provinces, where he can recuperate
in a summer resort.

"That's enough from you, Johnson," said Marks; "crawl into that pipe of
a savings and close the cover, or we'll make you smell the leather down
cellar."

"You call the savings a 'pipe,' do you? Say, Marks, you'd have seven
kinds of delirium tremens if you smoked this pipe."

Cantel tore off a slip and looked up.

"Ninety cents out," he said. "Marks is familiar with seventy times
seven snakes already, Johnsy. He's getting to the crocodile stage.
Last night at the Gai--"

"Shut up, Cant," whispered Marks, frowning; "it isn't time for the
great trump to sound, just yet."

"Who mentioned trumps?" inquired Jack Brower, one of the current
ledgermen, who had come around to drum up "stuff."

The boys laughed in chorus.

"Hey, less noise out there," called Levison, already experiencing a
"kick" from the laugh of a minute before.

Marks was about to waken Brower to a proper understanding when Charon
popped around the paying-cage.

"Look here," he said sharply, "this noise has got to st