“He can’t hurt anything,” said Sam.
The merchant looked suddenly at Richling.
“You’re not from Milwaukee. You’re a Southern man.”
“I said Milwaukee.”
“Well,” said the merchant, “I hardly know. Come and see me further about it to-morrow morning. I haven’t time to talk now.”
“Take a seat,” he said, the next morning, and drew up a chair sociably before the returned applicant. “Now, suppose I was to give you those books, all in confusion as they are, what would you do first of all?”
Mary fortunately had asked the same question the night before, and her husband was entirely ready with an answer which they had studied out in bed.
“I should send your deposit-book to bank to be balanced, and, without waiting for it, I should begin to take a trial-balance off the books. If I didn’t get one pretty soon, I’d drop that for the time being, and turn in and render the accounts of everybody on the books, asking them to examine and report.”