“I’ve got it, for sure. I’ve got it,” he exclaimed. His enthusiasm would not have been inappropriate in a better cause. I hadn’t time to ask him how it was accomplished, when he continued:—
“When they unlocked the vault this morning, I felt certain that I’d got my eye on the right combination numbers.”
“And you’d like to have tried the door right away?” I asked, and my eyes twinkled with mischief.
“My Lord!” he exclaimed, “it seemed I couldn’t wait till they all got out. I wasn’t fit for my regular work the rest of the day.”
“Well, the clerks went away, and you—”
“When they’d all gone,” interrupted Billy, “I tried my numbers, and they opened the lock the very first time.”
“How do you know you unlocked the vault door?” I inquired, half seriously and half teasingly.
“I proved it,” he whispered in my ear; “I proved it. I threw back the bolts and opened the door. Isn’t that proof enough?”
I admitted it was. Billy went on: “This getting combinations to safes is dead easy. If I could only be inside the vault when the tellers unlock their safes, without attracting attention, we could soon put the Corn Exchange Bank out of business.”
Now, surely here was an enthusiastic bank employee with his enthusiasm misdirected. I saw right away that I must cool him off if I was to depend upon him for a level head in an emergency. Brains and coolness, in my business, were the corner-stones of success.