o
had been betrayed into a mortifying mistake.

"All the better, all the better. Seldom do myself, but sometimes--Have
a cigar? No? Well, I must toddle along!"

It may here be mentioned that during his moment of impulsive vexation
Mr. Britt had inconsiderately substituted for the "Commercial" check
another, precisely similar save for the important particular that it
lacked the Mendenhall indorsement. The original had slipped between
the leaves of Britt's check book, under cover of his large hands.
Those hands were most expert in various amusing and adroit feats of
legerdemain, though Mr. Britt's modesty led him to a becoming, if
unusual, reticence in this regard. The substitute, as we have seen,
was in the waste-basket.

Just before three Britt ran heavily up the steps of the First
National, puffing down the corridor, cocking a hasty eye at the clock
as he came.

"Hey, there, sonny! I was almost too late, wasn't I?" was his
irreverent greeting to the cashier. "Time to cash this before closing
up?" he demanded breathlessly, but with unabated cheerfulness. He
flopped the check over. "Mendenhall's indorsement. Hi! Mr. President!
Just a minute! I'm a stranger here, but if you'll let us slip in at
a side door I'll trot around and fetch Mendenhall. Need this money
to-night."

The president took the check from the indignant young cashier, nodded
at the familiar signature with the cabalistic peculiarities which
attested its authenticity, glanced indulgently at the bobbing white
head in window, with difficulty suppressing a smile.

"It will not be necessary, Mr.--Mr. Britt," he said courteously. "Not
necessary at all. You have an account here, I believe?"

"It won't be here long," retorted Britt, with garrulous good nature.
"Draw it all out next week. Eleven, twelve--_and_ fifty. Thanks to
_you_. There goes the clock. Good day!"

"Quite an odd character, that Mr. Britt?" said the president casually
at the club that night. "Boyish old chap."

"Yes, isn't he?" said Mendenhall, folding his paper. "I sold him a
pretty stiff bill of goods this morning. Warmish, I take it. He's
going to settle here."

"Friend of yours?"

"Oh, no, I never saw him before."

"Why, you indorsed his check for twelve hundred and fifty," said
the president, interested, but not alarmed. Doubtless the man had
references. Besides, his face was a letter of credit in itself.

"Oh, yes," said Mendenhall unsuspiciously, thinking of the check sent