If ever a mother's prayers and good wishes went out after her boy those of Mrs. Morrison followed him as he strode manfully along, with his head held erect and the light of determination in his eyes.
When he drew near the bank he swerved and passed along, but not from timidity; it lacked seven minutes of the time Mr. Gibbs had set, and Dick had learned that a busy man is often almost as much annoyed by a premature caller as by one who keeps him waiting.
So the town clock was just striking the half hour when he walked into the bank.
Dick had been inside the place more than once, on some errand for his mother; but it had never looked just as it did on this morning, when he surveyed it as the possible field of his future industries.
He went over to the teller's window.
"Good morning, Mr. Winslow, can I see Mr. Gibbs?" he asked.
The receiving teller glanced quickly up, for when any one asked to see the president personally it usually meant particular business.
To his surprise the speaker was only a boy; and as he recognized Dick he shook his head a little dubiously in the negative.
"Mr. Gibbs is a busy man, generally, and unless you have some very important business with him I hardly think he could see you," he replied.
"But my business is important, to me anyway. I have come to see him about a position here," said Dick, calmly.