"I'll c-cut it out, old c-cock," laughed Penton raspingly, swaying to the poison in his blood, "me f-for the water wagon after this."
He raved about himself until they had him in bed, then he raved about everything.
"Do you want me to stay a while, Mrs. Penton?" asked the teller.
"No thank you, Mr. Nelson," she replied, wearily; "he will be all right now. Oh, I'm so afraid this will be talked of all over town. Do you think so?"
"Nobody saw him," said Nelson consolingly, "but a few drunks, and anything they say won't matter."
"Oh, I hope so," she said; "it would be dreadful if the town turned against us. This is our first branch, you know, and a scandal like this might ruin us."
"Don't worry, Mrs. Penton; people are kind in this town, if they are behind the times. They always forgive the first offence, and sometimes more. During the two weeks Mr. Penton has been here he has made lots of friends."
Mrs. Penton began to be comforted, for what the teller said was true. Penton had a way with him among people; it was a hypocritical way, of course, but the affectation of it was not clear to the kind, simple people of Banfield. His ignoble flattery passed for amiability and good-will.
"It won't occur again," said Mrs. Penton, thoughtfully; "this will be a lesson to him. I wish you would frighten him, Mr. Nelson."
Henty had to smile. The manager's wife also smiled then. It was impossible to look worried or cross in the face of what Filter called "the ape's grin." Evan, however, was the first to sober. He was thinking of the day he had entered the bank, and how he had thrilled at sight of a living manager, an appointee of head office. Now he was asked to frighten one of these potentates into subjection.