"I came last Monday night. Don't you remember?"

"Eh? Oh, yes . . . Yes, yes, yes . . . Last Monday night you come, eh?
On the night train, eh?" He hesitated a moment and then asked. "Cap'n
Lote fetch you down from the depot?"

Albert stared at him open-mouthed.

"Why, no!" he retorted. "You drove me down yourself."

For the first time a slight shade of embarrassment crossed the
bookkeeper's features. He drew a long breath.

"Yes," he mused. "Yes, yes, yes. I kind of thought I--yes, yes,--I--I
thought likely I did . . . Yes, yes, course I did, course I did. Well,
now maybe we'd better be startin' you in to work--er--Augustus. Know
anything about double-entry, do you?"

Albert did not, nor had he the slightest desire to learn. But before
the first hour was over he foresaw that he was destined to learn, if he
remained in that office, whether he wanted to or not. Laban Keeler might
be, and evidently was, peculiar in his ways, but as a bookkeeper he was
thoroughness personified. And as a teacher of his profession he was just
as thorough. All that forenoon Albert practiced the first principles
of "double entry" and, after the blessed hour for dinner, came back to
practice the remainder of the working day.

And so for many days. Little by little he learned to invoice and
journalize and "post in the ledger" and all the rest of the detail of
bookkeeping. Not that his instructor permitted him to do a great deal
of actual work upon the books of Z. Snow and Co. Those books were too
spotless and precious for that. Looking over them Albert was surprised
and obliged to admit a grudging admiration at the manner in which, for
the most part, they had been kept. Page after page of the neatest of
minute figures, not a blot, not a blur, not an erasure. So for months;
then, in the minor books, like the day-book or journal, would suddenly
break out an eruption of smudges and scrawls in the rugged handwriting
of Captain Zelotes. When he first happened upon one of these Albert
unthinkingly spoke to Mr. Keeler about it. He asked the latter what it
meant.

Laban slowly stroked his nose with his thumb and finger, a habit he had.

"I cal'late I was away for a spell then," he said, gravely. "Yes,
yes . . . Yes, yes, yes. I was away for a little spell."

He went soberly back to his desk. His new assistant, catching a glimpse
of his face, felt a pang of real pity for the little man. Of course the
reason for the hiatus in the books was plai