....

The town of Mt. Alban was silent. The main street was in darkness,
except for the gleam that came from the windows of three bank
buildings. It was past midnight, but out of twenty bankboys in the
town, fifteen were still working.

In one of the banks a young clerk slept, with his head on his hands and
his hands on an interest table. The ledger-keeper found him thus.

"Too dang bad," he said to Perry; "I forgot all about him.... Hey,
Nelson, it's morning!"

Evan raised his head and opened his eyes. Watson smiled good-naturedly.

"It's a shame to kid you," he said. "This was another bum steer. But
the practice in adding won't hurt you, eh?"

Nelson stumbled up the back stairs and fell asleep on his bed to the
tune of an adding-machine, run by Porter. In his dreams he stood at
the foot of a mighty column--of figures. It reached to the clouds. A
ghostly friend of Jack-in-the-Beanstalk's whispered to him that he must
climb that column if he would reach Success. Evan began the ascent.

CHAPTER III.

_A MAN OF THE WORLD._

Miraculous as it seemed to Evan, the ledgers were finally made to
balance. Porter lengthened his stride a foot and walked once more well
back on his heels--just as if his bad work had not been responsible for
a three days' dizzy mixup. A certain Saturday afternoon came round.

"I guess we can do without you till Monday noon," said the manager,
over Nelson's shoulder, as the latter pondered over an unwritten
money-order.

It was welcome news to Evan. He had come to feel, however, that his
presence was indispensable to the well-being of the collection register
and other books of record. It appeared to him that in one afternoon
and a forenoon the hand of any other but himself must irrevocably
"ball" the junior post.

"You mean you don't want me to drive back Sunday night?" he asked Mr.
Robb, doubtingly.

"That's what. You'd better take all the holidays you can get now,
Nelson; you'll be tied tighter than wax-end before you're in the
business long."

Evan seemed still perplexed.

"Who'll take out the drafts Monday morning, Mr. Robb?" he asked,
seriously.

The manager looked at him with an expression half humor and half pity.

"Do you suppose," he said with a grin, "that the merchants will be very
badly offended at not getting these bills at the earliest moment?"

Evan smiled. Robb still stood beside him.

"Evan! ....."

He looked up, surprised to hear himse