“Sit down a minute.”
A man about thirty years of age had just entered the room. Mr. Vanderbilt turned to him.
“I want you to come over and keep my books,” he said, brusquely.
“But, uncle, I'm not a bookkeeper,” said the young man. “I don't know how.”
“You know enough to take the money that comes in?”
“Yes.”
“And add up the expenses?”
“Yes.”
“And give me the difference?”
“Yes.”