"Your obedient servant,
"----FIELDS,
Paying Teller."
At the end the president suddenly lowered his head with a smile, and looked over the top of his glasses at his audience, clearly meaning, "There's a letter for you!"
But two of the gentlemen were fast asleep, nodding gently at one another across the table, while their hands clasped the arms of their chairs. The other one was looking up toward the roofs of the buildings opposite, absorbed in speculation.
The president said, aloud:
"I think, as long as Fields has made such a touse about it, that I'd better draft a reply, and not give him a verbal an—"
"Draft!" said the speculator, brought to life by the word. "Draft did you say, sir? What?—On whom?—"
"I said 'draft a reply' to—to this," returned the other, waving the letter.
"Oh, a reply! Draft one. Draft a reply—a reply to the letter about the salary. Oh, certainly, by all means."