Vindication
When Martin Landis entered the bank early in the afternoon of that same day he presented a different appearance from that of his departure in the morning. His head was held erect, his step determined, as he opened the swinging door of the bank and entered.
“What--Landis, you back?” Mr. Buehlor greeted him, while the quizzical eyes of the old man looked into those of the younger.
“I’m back and I’m back to get this hideous riddle solved and the slate washed clean.”
“Come in, come in!” Mr. Buehlor drew him into a little room and closed the door. “Sit down, Landis.”
“Well, how much is the bank short?” He looked straight into the eyes of the man who, several hours before, had dealt him such a death-blow.
“So far everything is right, right as rain! There’s a mistake or a damnable dirty trick somewhere.”
“Let’s sift it out, Mr. Buehlor. Will you tell me who had the ’inside information’ that I was taking bank’s money?”
“I’ll tell you! It was a farmer near your home---”
“Mr. Mertzheimer?” offered Martin.