How any sane person, especially a young man, can look at that
beautiful girl and suspect her of evil, passes my comprehension. Do
you know her?"
"No," said the cashier shortly. "Do you?"
The Lieutenant laughed genially.
"Still suspicious, eh?" he asked. "No, I don't know her, but to use a
banking term, you may bet your bottom dollar I'm going to. Indeed, I
am rather grateful to you for your stubbornness in forcing us to
return. It's a quality I like, and you possess it in marvelous
development, so I intend to stand by you when the managerial censure
is due. I'm very certain I met your manager at the dinner they gave us
last night. Mr. Morton, isn't he?"
"Yes," growled the cashier, in gruff despondency.
"Ah, that's awfully jolly. One of the finest fellows I've met in ten
years. Now, the lady said she was acquainted with him, so if I don't
wheedle an introduction out of him, it will show that a man at a
dinner and a man in a bank are two different individuals. You were
looking for plots; so there is mine laid bare to you. It's an
introduction, not gold, I'm conspiring for."
The cashier had nothing further to say. When they entered the bank
together he saw the clerks all busily at work, and knew that no
startling event had happened during his absence. The girl had gone
direct to the manager's room, and thither the young men followed her.
The bank manager was standing at his desk, trying to preserve a severe
financial cast of countenance, which the twinkle in his eyes belied.
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