III
Mr. Young insisted on John's leaving early for lunch, and staying as long as he pleased.
"Well, George, I will," said the latter, "because my work's all done up ahead of time—B & A bills counted" (and he pointed to a heap of vile-smelling green-backs, neatly sorted into little packages, and lying at one side) "and pay-rolls all made up. And I'll stay, too, if they want me."
However, he was back sharp at half-past one; and came in with two packages of dry goods under his arm. These he hurriedly secreted in a cupboard under the counter, though from the solicitude with which he handled them, I judged that he would almost have preferred to lock them up in the vault. Bill (and the occurrence did not seem strange then) made no comments of any sort during this proceeding.
Then he went out back, put on his linen jacket, and in a moment replaced Al at the counter, and the hustling commenced again.
From now on, until a quarter to four, John did all the talking. The rest of us were too much occupied in obeying his orders. I never knew him so voluble. He must first tell us about the state of affairs at home. Everything was doing finely; baby lusty and thriving, wife in good spirits, and "almost strong enough to get up," nurse scarcely needed, doctor still less. Then a list of his congratulations, and an account of Mrs. Makeator's visitors during the morning; and finally, as the choicest bit of news, and typical of the generally satisfactory condition of things, his wife's declaration that he must not bother about her and the baby, but go up to the park with the rest of us and see the ball-game.
All this was gone over a dozen times to us; and once, at least, to every customer whom he knew. While telling it, too, he thumbed his bills, checked off deposit tickets, received telephone messages from me, and directed the answering of them; bossed Bill, Ted, and Al about, as he had never done before, and never once asked the cashier's or president's advice on any topic—a circumstance entirely new in our experience of him.
At a quarter to four we were ready to strike a balance. Al, with the result of his half of the figuring (with which John's counter-book should agree), stood peering over the little man's shoulder. Bill, by force of habit mainly (for he looked forlorn enough), was behind John on the other side. Ted and I pressed up close, too; and Mr. Young sat at his table quietly, watching the group of us.
At these times John was generally very nervous; and frequently the mere consciousness of having all of us at his back flustered him so that he could not make his last deduction correctly. But his hour of triumph was now at hand, and he knew it and rose manfully to the occasion. He worked imperturbably and without the slightest trace of annoyance; nor was there the least hesitancy in the rapid tappings of his pen; and he made his footings with a decision which showed how thoroughly confident he was of the correctness of his calculations.
When he was done he said, "All right, Al. How is it?" and Al read off his balance.
John jotted it down in pencil beside his own, and subtracted.
"847.43," he said.
"Over?" asked the cashier from his table.
"No; short, George," and without waiting to prove his own work, John jumped over to Bill's clearing-books, and began footing them.
Bill and Ted and Al (Bill in front) pounced on John's book; but they had barely time to put pencil to it before John cried out:
"Seven less on the credit!" and Bill had the pleasure of correcting his own mistake on John's book.
He knew perfectly, poor fellow, his incompetence.—Page [449].
"Footing?" he queried, moodily.
"Yes," said John, without looking up, as he ran his pencil down another row of figures.
"Seven cents on the 'first' footing," he called again, almost immediately. "More on the credit this time, Bill. Makes it just 850.50, doesn't it?"
Bill, however, did not answer, but edged out between Ted and Al, and went to work on his own pass-books, errors in which did not appear "in cash."
Then John called to me to check the listing while he read off the clearings. Here, again, we found two mistakes, an inversion and another, which reduced the discrepancy to about fifty dollars.
This time John did not announce the mistake (for, with his growing assurance, all desire for public vindication and acquittal had left him), but went and "fixed" it himself.
Ted and Al had, long since, given up the search at the counter; and the latter, who was entering into the fun of the moment, cried laughingly, after going over my draft-registers,
"All right, Jim!" and then to Mr. Young, "Bill didn't take your bet, did he, George?"
"No," laughed the cashier in his turn, and added, "Better help us on 'cash,' Bill. Your books will wait."
Bill, crestfallen, marched over to his clearing-books, and gazed sheepishly at the corrections on them in John's handwriting.
John then discovered an error in Al's "Redemption" letter, which Al good-humoredly acknowledged; and, shortly after, one "on" Mr. Young himself.
This left us only a few cents out, so the cashier cried, "All right, boys. Let her go. You'll see seven innings of the game if you hurry."
John jotted it down.—Page [453].
"Why, aren't you going, too, George?" exclaimed John with evident disappointment. "I wanted to treat you this afternoon," and he pulled out of his pocket one of the new bank-notes which had come in just a few days ago.
It was too hot for talk.—Page [455].
"Sorry, John, but I've got some back work I must make up. And I want you to stay, too, Jim, and slice the rest of these green-backs. Habinger was late in signing them, you know."
This was, in some measure, a fresh disappointment to John (as it was a very great one to me), for I could see he wanted to take the whole of us. Al and Ted had already accepted.
Finally he went up to Bill and asked timidly and expectantly: "You're going, too, aren't you Bill?"
But Bill refused the offer snarlingly, and mumbling something in a priggish tone about playing golf, left the bank without another word.
Five minutes later the others had gone, too. As they went out, John cried:
"I'll stop in on the way back to get my wheel. You'll be here, George?"
"Yes. See you later, John. Good luck to you."