was not a real one--he signed "acting." The branch had been opened for
the sole purpose of keeping another bank out. Evan signed
"pro-accountant." The first time he decorated a money order after that
fashion a thrill made itself felt along his spine and in his hair.

Nelson's duties at first consisted of doing what little ledger work
there was to do, writing settlement drafts and so forth, and attending
to the mail. By degrees the manager, E. T. Dunn, initiated him into
other work, until at last he did practically everything, even to the
writing of returns.

As he sprawled now in the hammock between the apple-trees he gradually
became conscious and his mind resumed the thread of thought sleep had
broken off. He thought, with his eyes shut, about clerical work.
Mentally he took a deposit from a customer, entered it in his
"blotter," wrote it in the supplementary, and posted it in a ledger; it
was included in the cash-book total, and from there found its way to
the general ledger. So it was with every entry, credit or debit.
"Returns" were merely copies of general-ledger balances, or parts
thereof. Evan saw his way from beginning to end of the routine, and
wondered that anything so simple as bank work could ever worry a man.
He recalled the first week of his clerkship in Mt. Alban, and a grin
crept over his somnolent features.

But Evan was not only musing--he was thinking. He knew the banking
system was uniform throughout; and until he should be manager, he saw
himself spending years working out some part of the routine now so
simple to him. Mr. Dunn had worked at head office, and he told Nelson
that there were clerks down there who did nothing from morning till
night but add. Others there were who spent every hour of the day
"checking" branch figures. What an existence! he thought; what a
brainless life! Human automatons!

Thinking in these channels made Evan dissatisfied, and sometimes he
offered pointed observations to the acting-manager. Dunn would smile
and agree with anything that was said--but invariably settled down to
his pipe and paper again, contented to let the business take care of
him as it would. Dunn was one of a large class, in the bank, who are
satisfied with six cigars a day, a bed each night, and seventy-five
dollars a month.

The exercise Evan had accustomed himself to gave him increased
vitality, and there being neither work nor social life enough in Creek
Bend to satisfy this n