"Yes, your full name, here."
"And I git twenty-four thousand dollars for this?"
"If you want to carry that much around with you. I'd advise you to deposit the draft and draw against it."
"If it's mine, I reckon I'd like to jest git it in my hands onct, anyhow. I'd like to see what that much money feels like."
Pete slowly wrote his name, thinking of The Spider and Pop Annersley as he did so. Hodges took the draft, pressed a button, and a clerk appeared, took the draft, and presently returned with the money in gold and bank-notes of large denomination.
When he had gone out, Hodges turned to Pete. "What are you going to do with it? It's none of my business—now. But Jim and I were friends—and if I can do anything—"
"I reckon I'll put it back in—to my name," said Pete. "I sure ain't scared to leave it with you—for The Spider he weren't."
Hodges smiled grimly, and pressed a button on his desk. "New account," he told the clerk.
Pete sighed heavily when the matter had been adjusted, the identification signature slips signed, and the bank-book made out in his name.
Hodges himself introduced Pete at the teller's window, thanked Pete officially for patronizing the bank, and shook hands with him. "Any time you need funds, just come in—or write to me," said Hodges. "Good-bye, and good luck."