ust where
you stand--so that you'll mind your eye and look out for my interests
in every way from now on--so that--" He hesitated a moment. His eyes
flamed. "So that you'll know your place! That's it! Know your place--and
be mighty careful how you go against me in anything--anything where I'm
interested." Britt had whipped himself into anger. That anger, fanned by
a flame of jealousy after it had been touched off by his inspection of
youth and good looks, had carried Mr. Britt far. He shook the letter at
the young man. "There's a reliable name signed to this letter; he is a
friend of mine, one of the big financiers in the city, and this was in
the way of friendly warning."

"I understand, Mr. Britt." The cashier had recovered his
self-possession. "You are warned that my father was sentenced to the
penitentiary for embezzlement. No, I did not mention that to you. It
concerned a man who is dead. It has nothing to do with my honesty."

"Well, there's another motto about 'blood will tell,'" sneered Britt.

Vaniman stepped forward, honestly indignant, manfully resolute. "Let
me tell you, sir, that the letter you hold there--no matter who wrote
it--concerns a _good_ man who is dead. He was the scapegoat of one of
those big financiers." Vaniman's lip curled. "My father was railroaded
to jail on a track greased with lies--and died because the heart had
been ripped out of him and--"

"Hold on! It won't get us anywhere to try that case all over, Vaniman.
Let the letter stand as it is--it was probably meant in the right
spirit. But I didn't write it. You and I better not fight over it. I've
shown, by laying it away and saying nothing, that I have a decent nature
in me. I hope I'll never have any need to take it out of this desk
again." He turned and shoved the paper back and locked the compartment.

"I think it is best for me to resign, Mr. Britt."

"Don't be a fool, young man. Now that this thing is off our minds
there's a better understanding between us than ever. I don't think--I
hope"--he surveyed Vaniman with leisure in which there was the
suggestion of a threat--"I'll never have any occasion to take that
letter out again. Er--ah--" Britt joggled a watch charm and inquired,
casually, "Would you plan on getting married if I boost your wages a
little?"

In spite of an effort to control himself under Britt's basilisk stare,
Vaniman showed how much the query had jumped him.

"Of course, a chap like you has had his sweeth