he following day a long envelope came from head office to the Mt.
Alban office. It contained the "increases."

Castle's salary was raised from $650 to $800. Watson got $100; Evan a
raise of $50. The junior did not expect any, and he was not
disappointed in his expectations. Nevertheless he was disappointed.

Mr. Robb was snubbed! He said nothing. Bill emulated the manager's
stoicism--another two dollars per week made little difference to Bill;
it would all have to go out in debts, anyway.

Castle "took" his increase with dignity, making no comments and voicing
no rapture. Bill watched him from his ledger.

"Say, Alf," he said at last, under a growing deviltry, "you seem to be
a favorite. Now I don't think you're worth eight hundred dollars a
year--honestly, do you?"

The teller's delicate skin became pink.

"I don't blame you for being sore, Watson," he retorted, gingerly for
him, "when head office shows discrimination; it hurts, I suppose."

Watson grinned. He rarely lost his temper. He sighed comically.

"I can't help if my name isn't Castle," he said, coolly.

The teller opened the door of his cage and rushed into the manager's
room.

"Mr. Robb," he cried, in his tenor tones, "I'm not going to stand for
the insults of Watson any longer."

"What's the matter now?" asked Robb, not encouragingly.

"Watson's talking of favoritism and that sort of rot. He knows I earn
all I get from head office."

"That's right enough, Alf," said Robb, calmly. "You earn what you get,
but you also get what you earn. The rest of us don't."

The teller was dumfounded. The way the manager spoke would have halted
him even had he considered the words unjust--which he could not. But
Castle's sense of dignity was too great to endure argument at that
moment; he flushed with humiliation and withdrew unceremoniously from
Robb's office.

Robb would not give his teller the satisfaction of calling Watson on
the carpet, but when Castle had quit work for the day, the manager
accosted Bill.

"Were you rubbing it into Alf to-day?" he asked, leaning against the
ledger desk.

"Just a little," said Bill, smiling.

"You want to go easy, Watson. Some day Alf will be an inspector or
something, and then he'll remember thee."

Bill looked up from his work quickly.

"Surely we don't have to curry the favor of a brat like that!" Then,
in a moment, "His preaching against me to-day didn't seem to get him in
very strong with t