“Shouldn't wonder if it's a good one, when they get to passing around the offices,” admitted Files. He started on his way to the kitchen.
At that moment President Britt entered, having answered the gong with the promptitude of a fireman chasing a box alarm.
“What have you on the fire, landlord?” called Mr. Starr, absorbed in the dinner topic.
“Boiled dinner!”
Britt did not show the enthusiasm that was exhibited by the other guest.
“Nothing like a boiled dinner after a long ride,” Mr. Starr affirmed. “Plenty of cabbage with mine, if you'll be so kind!”
Files gave Mr. Britt some information that he thought might be of interest. “Here's the new bank examiner. Seeing that you probably have business together, I'll set both of you at the same table.” He retired.
After the commonplaces of getting acquainted, the two tacked the boiled dinner.
“Let's see—who's your cashier?” inquired Starr, chewing vigorously behind the mask of his mustache.
“Young fellow named Vaniman. I have let him take full charge of the bank business. He seems to know all the ropes.”