o that Mr. Castle might know how to dispense his pretty words. Evan
listened to those whisperings until they were silent in the hall that
led to Penton's house, and an uncomfortable feeling crept over him.
The manager was currying Castle's favor.

Henty and Filter came out to the office before Penton and the inspector.

"What do you know about that!" cried Henty, crimson.

The teller smiled faintly. Filter's pallid face was glowing in
anticipation of coming balances. It was ten o'clock.

To Evan, who knew what a bank inspection meant, this one was
particularly unwelcome. Inspections always are, to experienced clerks,
who have no regard for the novelty of the thing; they mean from one to
three weeks' work, day and night without let-up. But the blinding work
is not the worst of it; the suspense is what unnerves and worries. A
fellow never knows what moment he is going to get a figurative
knock-out from the head office official. The inspector, if he happens
to have indigestion or domestic trouble, can be appallingly
disagreeable.

Henty had never been through the ordeal of an inspection, but he had
heard about it. He stood now staring at the teller, comically.

"Gee," he said, "and old Peterson has had one of my drafts out for
three days. A sight, too."

Filter was in a dream about the ledger. Evan was thinking. He did not
like Inspector Castle; he felt that he could not expect much of him.
Still, he determined he would tell his story. Evan had no very
definite conception, at the time, of what that story would be; and when
Castle and Penton went over to the hotel for a drink, before setting to
work, he wondered whether it would be advisable to speak about the
silver at all.

Penton stayed close to the inspector, as though unwilling to leave him
alone with the teller. Evan saw it plainly, but what could he do? It
was not for him to thrust himself on I. Castle, or tell him whom he
should or should not ignore. Ignored! that was it! The $350-man was
beneath the notice of an inspector. It occurred to Evan now why head
office had not answered his letter. What right had he to write head
office? He could not, in this connection, forget the look Castle had
given him at the bank door, with the words: "I came to inspect the
branch."

The manager's efforts to please and assist the inspector were both
pitiful and burlesque, to those who knew his daily habits. He wedged
himself into the cage with Castle, h