Perry grinned.
"Come on, Bill," he coaxed, "put me next to this dope."
Bill bent over him and laid down the law. Evan finished his mail. The teller brushed the office from him with a whisk, and, adjusting his tie and hat to a nicety, walked out into the streets to be admired by the female population of Mt. Alban.
An hour later the "swipe" was diligently dusting the front office, his back to the door, when someone entered the bank. Thinking it was Porter he did not look up, but went on with his work. There was a sickening dusty smell in the office: the aftermath of a broom.
"Hello, there," said Robb; "do you work all the time, Nelson?"
Evan looked up with an apologetic smile, and, hurriedly dusting the manager's chair, made as though to leave the sanctum.
"Don't run away, my boy," said the manager; "I came in on purpose to see you. Sit down."
The junior obeyed.
"How do you like banking by this time?"
"Pretty well, sir, thank you," said Evan timidly.