e to the rescue, as it always did.

"That bag you have been counting as five hundred dollars has only
contained four packages. The loss is away back somewhere, and this is
a coincidence. There has been a double error."

Evan knew differently, but felt that he could not say anything
plausible. He was silent. Penton waited a moment before remarking:

"It'll come pretty hard on you, old man, with your salary."

So diabolically triumphant was Penton's tone that it filled Nelson with
a horror.

"I'll quit the bank before I'll put it up," he said, gutturally.

"That would make things look suspicious," replied Penton.

So it would! Evan had not thought of that. Penton seemed to have
figured the situation out fully; directly he said:

"Well, let's sit down and write head office the particulars. They may
let you off, seeing you are getting only three hundred and fifty
dollars."

Realizing his powerlessness, Evan obeyed. For the first time in his
Banfield management Penton took command. He was self-possessed; acted
like one who was right at home. Probably he was, in that kind of a
game.

Nelson wrote unsteadily in longhand to his manager's dictation, and was
strengthened in the conviction that Penton had stolen that parcel of
silver. Usually the manager composed hesitatingly, especially when
addressing head office, but now he was glib, and seemed familiar with
his subject. He even appeared to be in suppressed good humor over the
matter.

"Don't look so grim, old man," he said, oilily, "they'll not make you
put it up. Why, that would be absurd, on your allowance."

An idea struck Evan. Penton, if he had taken the money, probably hoped
his teller's low salary would influence head office toward leniency.
The amount was not so very large; it was, indeed, just about the proper
amount to take. One hundred dollars was such a common loss in banking,
it would not look suspicious. Anything more would have aroused
inquiry, while anything less would scarcely have been worth stealing.
The thing had been well executed; taking one package from the bag and
tying it up again, then innocently desiring to check the cash next day,
all showed thought; and it occurred to Nelson that Penton's head was
just the shape for such thought. He had not been dragging at his upper
lip in vain: he had extracted a piece of strategy, which had originated
in the cerebrum. There was a peculiar sympathy between Penton's lips
and his br