"Shut up, Bill," interposed Perry, "I've been up this column twice already."
Bill opened his eyes and leered down on the savings man.
"Look who's here," he said, facetiously. "Why, it's the new ledger keeper; the great-grandson of Burroughs, and inventor of the new system of adding—the system which says: Go up a column three times and if the totals agree there is something wrong; mistrust them; get the other man to add it."
Porter scowled. Castle could scarcely repress a smile, but he dug his nose into a bunch of dirty money, and managed to turn his thoughts to microbes and other sober subjects.
Evan, his grip packed, stood apologetically behind the cage, waiting for the teller to turn around.
"What do you want?" said Castle.
"Cash this cheque, will you, please?"
A smile wavered on Watson's lip. Porter felt in his pockets. The teller grinned.
"Hardly worth while keeping that in an account," he said, with the intention of joking. It was a wonder, too, for he seldom tried to be funny with inferiors.
"I wouldn't have even that," replied Evan, "if it weren't for the account."