It was the rule in Evan's bank that the branch to which a clerk was moved should stand the expense of transportation. Evan was, therefore, obliged to borrow ten dollars from the Banfield branch to buy a railway ticket. There was no account, though, to which the voucher could be charged, so the manager agreed to hold a cheque in the cash for a week; that would give the transient clerk time to find a lodging in the city and to put through his expense voucher on the Toronto office.
"Are you really serious about quitting, Henty?" asked Evan, as they stood on the little depot platform. Filter was back at the office, transferring leaves from the ledger to a file.
"You bet," said Henty; "I don't believe I ever would have stuck here if you hadn't come along. That night you hit this dump I was down-and-out, but you came across with a line of talk that cheered me up. Honest, Nelson, you're one of the decentest lads I ever met."
Evan's laughter echoed from the woods west of the station. A few Banfield folk scattered around waiting for the daily excitement of seeing a train, looked at him askance, as if to say: "What do you bankers care about a town? We see little of you when you're here; and you go away with a laugh!"
"But," said Evan, "it will be a month before you can get off."
"That's nothing; I can stand it for four weeks, when I know that I'm leaving."
"You speak as though the job really weighed on you."
"It does; I didn't realize it till now."
Up the track the train whistled.
"Well—good-bye, A. P. I think you're wise to quit."