the boss; "what good is that? If you can deliver the
goods, all right; if you can't, out you go. As for your honesty, we
depend on our ability to read character; after all, wouldn't you rather
have your own opinion of a fellow than somebody else's? If ever you
get to be cashier here we'll know you all right; not from Toronto
references, but from daily observation. We learn to spot honesty here
in Noo Yo'k: it's so dawn rare."

Evan smiled in spite of a desire to look solemn. He liked the "old
man," and knew work with him would be pleasant. The office staff he
liked, too, for they were free and easy, though mightily busy. It was
a great change from the bank. No one seemed to be afraid of anybody
else. The cashier was no bullier; although there was occasional
friction, there was no subordination.

Everybody worked fast, but, for Evan, there was not the strain of a
Canadian city bank. He knew there was no Alfred Castle watching him,
and he knew that if a ledger went wrong requiring night work, the man
who worked on it would be paid for every minute of overtime. Already
he made fifteen dollars a week, and that was just as big as fifteen
dollars would be in Toronto--it was bigger; it would buy more food and
pleasure in New York than in any other city on the continent. Evan
found it ample.

"If you keep on," said the cashier one day, "we'll be giving you more
work to do."

Evan was surprised, and gratified. "I'll keep on," he said.

A few days after determining to keep on he asked for a half-day off to
humor a headache. He was allowed an afternoon's leave.

On the way down to the ocean beach, where he hoped to soothe his
palpitating cerebellum, he called at the Brooklyn room and found two
letters and a telegram awaiting him. They had been forwarded by Sam,
who had scribbled on the back of the telegram: "I knew you would have
it in a few hours or I would have re-despatched the message." Evan
smiled at his mother's anxiety--a letter had gone to her explaining
everything; he had told her he was afraid his father would want to
fight the bank in the courts, so he had kept the matter quiet until
another position turned up. "No one ever wins in a suit against the
bank," he said, "and Dad needs his money."

The cheque from home for fifty dollars looked good to Evan, but he
hesitated before accepting it. Suddenly, however, he recollected a few
little Ontario debts, and slipping the cheque in his pocket he tho