"Hello," said Bill, hurriedly, "what are you fooling away your time down here for at this hour of the day? You must have the c. b. down finer than ever I got it, Nelsy. By gum, you've travelled some since you came here; I was on the job six months——"
Watson paused suddenly.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
Evan saw that Bill was uninformed. Such is the rush of a city office that one man does not know what happens to another, until the pipes are lit and "chewing the fat" commences.
In a few words Nelson told his old desk-mate what had happened. Bill was speechless. He did not even swear. He stood looking at Evan, but his eyes seemed too wide-open to see anything. While he was trying to frame words the voice of Charon sounded at the head of the basement stairs.
"Watson, Watson!" A customer was probably waiting to deposit.
Urgent as was the accountant's voice, Bill delayed long enough to shake hands and say:
"Come up and see me at the boarding-house; I want to tell you something."
Evan half promised—but never went. The next time he saw Bill they were far away from Toronto and banking.
As the cash-book man walked through the office with his hat in his hand, Marks, the C man, shouted: