ome with bank idioms to tickle his mother with and dumfound his
sister. As he sat at the Christmas breakfast table his countenance was
subdued, almost worried. The long balance-night orgies were registered
there; the fixed expression that comes from searching out differences
and the strain that accompanies each day's balancing of the cash.
Something more as well--debts!

All bankclerks contract debts. The careless ones do so thoughtlessly,
the careful ones reluctantly--both necessarily. Evan owed about sixty
dollars, tailor and other bills. A bankclerk must make a good
impression on people; he must have a good appearance--head office makes
that its business. The clerk's salary--that is nobody's business, not
even his own. Evan did not mention the fact that he was in debt, when
his father asked, good-humoredly,

"Making much money?"

"I'm living," smiled the son.

Lou thoughtlessly said something ill-advised.

"Got a new girl, brother?"

Mrs. Nelson blushed, but her Banker did not. He laughed.

"That's one thing we learn to forget," he said, brazenly.

The caresses of "sweethearts in every town" had had their effect. His
sister gave him a rebuking look. He saw a question in her eyes and the
shape of it resembled Frankie Arling's contour.

Some women prefer suspense to disappointment. Mrs. Arling evidently
did not, for she asked, palpitatingly:

"When are you going back?"

Evan was embarrassed. He evaded the question.

"It's too early to speak of that, mother," he fenced. "Our manager is
delicate and apt to break down at any time. I promised to be
back--soon. I am the whole thing up at Banfield."

"Are you teller yet?" asked Lou.

"Sure," said Evan, "and then some. I'm pro-manager."

"Let's see," said his father, dropping a hot egg, "what are they paying
you now?"

"Three fifty," replied Evan humbly.

It was not the diminutiveness of the figure that sounded so mean to
him, but its association with the word "pro-manager." He was not
ashamed of a low salary, but of a humble position. If he could
convince his father that the position he held was responsible and
man-worthy, he would not mind about the salary. Bankclerks are
constantly fed with promotion when it is money they need, but they are
so trained that elevation practically stands for increase, to them.

"I often run the office for days at a time when the manager is in bed,"
said Evan.

"And the cash--it's in your charge enti