“I likes you,” prattled she as he put her down again after lifting her up high over his head, “but I likes de oder one best.”
“I hope the other one duly appreciates your preference,” laughed he, and was again on the point of entering the bank when he felt or thought he felt a hand laid on his arm. It was the janitor himself this time, a worthy man, greatly trusted in the bank, but possessed of such an extraordinary peculiarity in the way of a pair of protruding eyes, that his appearance was always attended by a shock.
“Well, Hopgood, what is it?” cried Bertram, in his cheery tone.
The janitor drew back and mercifully shifted his gaze from the young man’s face. “Nothing sir; did I stop you? Beg pardon,” he continued, half stammering, “I’m dreadful awkward sometimes.” And with a nod he sidled off towards his little one whom he confusedly took up in his arms.
Now Bertram was sure the man had touched him and that, too, with a very eager hand, but being late that morning and consequently in somewhat of a hurry, he did not stop to pursue the matter. Hastening into the Bank, he assisted the teller in opening the safe, that being his especial duty, and was taking out such papers as he himself required, when he was surprised to catch another sight of those same extraordinary organs of which I have just spoken, peering upon him from the door by which he had previously entered. They vanished as soon as he encountered them, but more than once during the morning he perceived them looking upon him from various quarters of the bank, till he felt himself growing seriously annoyed, and sending for the man, asked him what he meant by this unusual surveillance. The janitor seemed troubled, flushed painfully and fixed his eyes in manifest anxiety on the cashier who, engaged in some search of his own, was just handling over the tin boxes that lined the vault before them. Not till he had seen him shove them back into their place and leave the spot, did he venture upon his reply. “I’m sure, sir, I’m very sorry if I have annoyed you, but do you think Mr. Sylvester will be down at the usual hour?”
“I know of no reason why he should not,” returned Bertram.
“I have something to say to him when he comes in,” stammered the man, evidently taken aback by Bertram’s look of surprise. “Will you be kind enough to ring the bell the first moment he seems to be at leisure? I don’t know as it is a matter of any importance but—” He stopped, evidently putting a curb upon himself. “Can I rely on you, sir?”
“Yes, certainly, I will tell my uncle when he comes in that you want to speak to him. He will doubtless send for you at once.”
The man looked embarrassed. “Excuse me, sir, but that’s just what I’d rather you wouldn’t do. Mr. Sylvester is always very busy and he might think I wished to annoy him about some matters of my own, sir, as indeed I have not been above doing at odd times. If you would ring when he comes in, that is all I ask.”
Bertram thought this a strange request, but seeing the man so anxious, gave the required promise, and the janitor hurried off. “Curious!” muttered Bertram. “Can anything be wrong?” And he glanced about him with some curiosity as he went to his desk. But every one was at his post as usual and the countenances of all were equally undisturbed.