and would not be back.

Dunn, although he had not had the matter referred to him, felt sorry
for Nelson and comforted him with the offer to pay half.

"I would have cashed it myself for seventy," he said.

Evan was in the depths.

"Do you think head office would let us debit it to charges?" he asked
hopelessly.

The manager looked at him in dismay.

"My dear boy," he smiled, "they would almost fire you for suggesting
such a thing. I tried that once and they wrote back telling me to be
more careful, and insinuating that no good clerk need lose money on the
cash. Never look to them for sympathy, because you won't get it."

Nelson swallowed a lump and drew a cheque on his account for all he
had--$22. He thought it very decent of Dunn to make up half the
shortage--and it was. The acting-manager was a good sport--too good
for his own good. Evan figured that the Mt. Alban tailor would have to
wait.

Mrs. Nelson was advised by letter that "seeing there are only two of us
running this branch, and the manager wants to go to Toronto for the
holiday, we have decided that I must stay. I'm very sorry, mother--but
it won't be long till Christmas."

There was truth in the manager's wanting to go away for the holiday:
Evan encouraged him in the desire, because he wanted to express
appreciation of Dunn's kindness in putting up $25 of the loss.

The manager left his "combination" in an envelope in case he should
miss a train back, and Evan was entrusted with several thousand dollars
in cash. Dunn left at noon Saturday and would be gone until ten
o'clock Monday morning.

"Don't run off with the safe," he laughed as he said good-bye.

"No, I'll only take the contents," answered Evan, cheerily.

But he felt not the least bit cheery. He thought of the last
Thanksgiving spent in Hometon, of mother, sister and Frankie--and the
dinner. It must be confessed that, in his memory, the dinner shared
with Frankie.

If Evan had been crooked, instead of turkey-dressing and home-scenes he
would have been thinking of the money within his grasp. As it was, the
filthy lucre never entered his head. He did think of the double
responsibility, and it made him proud; but that was the extent of his
money speculations.

While he sat in the acting-manager's chair dreaming of home and
wondering why he had not written Frankie a letter this week, a gentle
tap came to the front door of the bank, which was always locked at noon
on Saturd