en four and ten, ready for anything from a hot-weather gymkhana to
a riding-picnic; and, between ten and four, "Mr. Reginald Burke, Manager
of the Sind and Sialkote Branch Bank." You might play polo with him one
afternoon and hear him express his opinions when a man crossed; and you
might call on him next morning to raise a two-thousand rupee loan on a
five hundred pound insurance-policy, eighty pounds paid in premiums. He
would recognize you, but you would have some trouble in recognizing him.

The Directors of the Bank--it had its headquarters in Calcutta and its
General Manager's word carried weight with the Government--picked their
men well. They had tested Reggie up to a fairly severe breaking-strain.
They trusted him just as much as Directors ever trust Managers. You must
see for yourself whether their trust was misplaced.

Reggie's Branch was in a big Station, and worked with the usual
staff--one Manager, one Accountant, both English, a Cashier, and a horde
of native clerks; besides the Police patrol at nights outside. The
bulk of its work, for it was in a thriving district, was hoondi and
accommodation of all kinds. A fool has no grip of this sort of business;
and a clever man who does not go about among his clients, and know
more than a little of their affairs, is worse than a fool. Reggie was
young-looking, clean-shaved, with a twinkle in his eye, and a head
that nothing short of a gallon of the Gunners' Madeira could make any
impression on.

One day, at a big dinner, he announced casually that the Directors had
shifted on to him a Natural Curiosity, from England, in the Accountant
line. He was perfectly correct. Mr. Silas Riley, Accountant, was a MOST
curious animal--a long, gawky, rawboned Yorkshireman, full of the
savage self-conceit that blossom's only in the best county in England.
Arrogance was a mild word for the mental attitude of Mr. S. Riley. He
had worked himself up, after seven years, to a Cashier's position in a
Huddersfield Bank; and all his experience lay among the factories of the
North. Perhaps he would have done better on the Bombay side, where they
are happy with one-half per cent. profits, and money is cheap. He was
useless for Upper India and a wheat Province, where a man wants a large
head and a touch of imagination if he is to turn out a satisfactory
balance-sheet.

He was wonderfully narrow-minded in business, and, being new to the
country, had no notion that Indian banking is totall