"I hope so, Nelson; you deserve it; I'll do all I can for you. But the bank is rather uncertain, you know. We are all—well, more or less servants. Even I get my call-downs regularly. You didn't know that, eh? Well, you'll get wise to a whole lot of things as time goes on. However, I don't want to discourage you. Do your best wherever you are."
Mr. Robb puffed his cigar into life before continuing.
"Don't take things too seriously, though. Now Mr. Castle, for instance—anything he says just swallow it with a few grains of salt. He's got bank blue-blood in his veins, you know. And this sweeping and dusting—don't be so particular. You should be out playing ball or tennis. I must get a woman to clean up from now on. The last manager here started this business, but I'm going to stop it. I didn't say anything while Perry was on the job because it helped break him in to the habit of discipline—but you don't need a schoolmaster; in fact, you need a sporting coach.... Here, do you smoke?"
Evan declined the cigar with thanks.
"You're right," said Robb, "it's a poor habit.... Was there nothing in your home town that attracted you?" he asked suddenly.
"What do you mean—a business?"
"Yes."
"No, sir. There doesn't seem to be anything so good as the bank for a young fellow."
"That's right," smiled the manager; "there doesn't seem to be. The only thing some people in this country can see is the bank."
The junior looked surprised. Robb smiled satirically.