“All right,” said the cashier, handing the check over the counter. “Write your name across the back of it, and then take it home and let your father sign it.”
“My father!” exclaimed Gus. “Not much. I mean—what do you want his signature for?” he added hastily, and in great confusion, for the cashier looked at him as if he were somewhat surprised at his earnestness.
“To make ourselves secure,” said the cashier, by way of explanation. “You see, Gus, this check is drawn by John Ackerman on the Planters’ Bank of Austin, Texas. He may have funds there, but he has none here, and neither have you; and it is our rule in such cases to require an endorsement other than that of the payee. You are the payee, you know—the one to whom the check is made payable. Your father will sign it.”
Gus felt like giving vent to his astonishment and rage in a series of the wildest kind of yells, and it was all he could do to choke back his tears. As soon as he had controlled himself so that he could speak, he said:
“I don’t want to ask my father to endorse it. This is my own private affair, and I don’t want you to say anything about it.”
“Of course not. We never talk about our business matters.”
“How long will it take to collect it?”
“Well, Austin is a long distance from here, and it will take two or three weeks at least.”
“Great Cæsar!” was Gus’s mental exclamation. “Can I stand it to stay in the store so much longer? Very well,” he said aloud, “I shall have to ask you to collect it for me, if that is the best I can do.”
Gus turned about and walked out of the bank like one in a dream. He had never in his life before been so badly disappointed. The reflection that if he remained in the store a month longer, and could save all the money he earned in that time, he would have twenty dollars more to be added to the sum he already possessed, did not encourage him in the least. He wanted his liberty more than he wanted a month’s wages, and besides he was by no means sure that he would be able to save what he earned. If his creditors became weary of having their debts paid by promises, and presented their bills to his father, Gus knew that they would be promptly settled, and that he could not draw a cent at the end of the month. He turned these matters over in his mind while he was eating his dinner, and the longer he pondered upon them the more he felt like yelling. There were no customers in the store when he returned, but Sam was leaning over the counter waiting for him.