still unrepentant. His
brazenness irritated the teller, who answered simply:

"Yes."

Penton looked at him angrily.

"See here," he said, imperiously, "I don't give a ---- what these
yokels think of me. I am manager here, and if I want to take a glass
that's my business; understand?"

Evan made no reply. He walked doggedly from the manager's office to
his cage and set to work. Penton stood pulling at the inflamed tip of
his upper lip. His bluffing had failed. When he approached Nelson it
was humbly.

"I hope you'll try to fix things up as much as possible, old man," he
said.

Under the circumstances Evan would rather have been called Old Nick
than "old man," but he nodded obedience to the manager's wishes and
went about his business.

"I promise it won't happen again," said Penton, grovelling.

"It will soon pass off," said Evan.

He might have meant that Penton's resolution would disappear. However,
his words were consolation to the nerveless manager, who, from that
time on, was quite servile. He ingratiated himself with the teller at
every opportunity. His mock humility was loathsome to Evan and made
him fear indefinitely. He worried over it. But he could not decide
what to do or how to treat Penton.

Business was rushing. The work in the box had gradually increased, and
other work had piled up since the new manager's arrival. Jones, though
sick half the time and half sick the rest of the time, had done more
than Penton would do. Penton, despite his criticism on the former
manager's system, made no real effort to establish anything better. He
often pointed out "how we used to do it in the M---- Bank," and
sometimes Evan agreed with him but he never took off his coat and dug
out the submerged junior or ledger-keeper as Jones had done, He seemed
to be engaged forever in a mental calculation. Frequently he did not
hear questions addressed to him. What little work he undertook was
haggled at in spasms and usually left for the accountant to finish.

All the boys were loaded down with routine. They never thought of
leaving the office until six o'clock, and night-work was now the rule.
Evan began to have headaches.

The people of Banfield kindly let Penton's first offence pass, as it
had been prophesied they would. Everyone knew about it, of
course--what village of nine hundred population ever lost sight
entirely of such a piece of news?

Mrs. Penton was delighted to know that she and her