My chance came. The cash was short
one thousand dollars one day--_my_ cash. I explained that I must have
paid out two hundred tens instead of fives. It was Saturday; they had
transferred me to the second paying-box just a few days before. I
figured that here was my chance to make a mistake. Now, being over
twenty-one I was my own bondman, and the bank couldn't collect from
anybody but me--or the guarantee company. I knew that, of course.
Well, I pretended to worry myself sick over the loss, and checked my
vouchers over about a dozen times. At last I pretended to give up, and
told them I would look no more for it.

"'All right,' said Castle, 'you'll have to put it up.'"

"I said nothing just then, but before long I told them I would go to
jail before I'd put it up. I went to the manager, then to the
inspector, and hung the bluff around. At last they decided to kick me
out of the bank and let the guarantee company make good the loss. I
hung around Toronto for a little while, with two five-hundred dollar
bills tucked under my shirt. Soon I made a trip to Hamilton, captured
Hazel, and came to Edmonton, Alberta. I struck it rich there. I
cleaned up ten thousand bucks in a few months. After that it was easy
to get fifty thousand. I'm worth a hundred now."

Bill smiled around his cigarette, and waited for his friend to speak.
It was no easy matter for Evan to find words, either, although he felt
that Bill was telling the truth.

"Did you ever pay them back, Bill?" he asked, expectantly.

"Oh, yes," said Watson, drawing a registered-letter slip from his
pocket. The receipt was made out to John Honig, for a thousand
dollars. "Some assumed name that, eh, Evan?"

"Yes. How long did you hang on to the coin, Bill?"

"You see the date. I kept it as long as I thought it was coming to me.
You know I labored like a lackey for five years on half pay in the
bank. They really owed me every cent of the thousand, but I only
pinched the interest on it for two years. That wasn't much, eh? It
made me rich, though; and so I ought to forgive the bank. What do you
think of me, Nelsy, as a one-time Sunday School teacher?"

"I wasn't thinking of the right or wrong of it, Bill, but of your
nerve. Just imagine what would have happened if they had caught you."

Bill laughed disdainfully.

"Jail couldn't have been any worse than that office. My conscience
troubled me a while--until I found that the thousand was maki