Time flew, for Evan, on his new post. There is certain excitement about bank work, just as there is in playing checkers. It is said of both occupations that they develop the faculties. Counting the stars also strengthens certain brain-tissues. In fact, there are many educational agencies in the world and the universe: it is no trouble to find one or a thousand—the difficulty comes in selecting. He who can choose, with open eyes, the factors that shall enter into his education, is going to be among the fittest. But few boys of seventeen know where to look; certainly Evan Nelson did not. He was naturally a specialist; that is, he was one to put his whole heart into anything. If he had been left to the moulding influence of a university he would have fastened upon literature or science and created something for the world; but, unfortunately, he was thrown headlong into a counting-house, and, being an enthusiast, began to dig among musty books with an energy that was, in great measure, wasted—except, to the beneficiaries of the concern.
The life he had led at home had given Evan scope for his imagination. The life he now led made no demand on his creative powers, with the result that his imagination turned away from great things and concentrated on little things—like pleasure.
It was the old story, the story that Sam Robb and others knew. With Nelson it began later than usual, but came with a rush in the following way:
One night in his room above the vault he sat reading in French a story from De Maupassant, a dictionary beside him. Bill Watson walked into the room and sat down with a grunt, and a cigarette. He lounged back in a chair, well-dressed and glossy-looking, and puffed white rings upward toward the ceiling.
"Why don't you go out a little, Evan?" he said, casually.
The ledger keepers had become pretty well acquainted by now. Evan's sincerity and energy were telling on the books, too. Even Castle had spoken nicely to him one day.
"Out where?" asked Evan, looking away from the French fiction.
"To parties. Where did you think I meant—out in the back yard?"
"I don't know many people yet," replied the savings man.
"You never will, either, unless you make a break. Say, kid, there's a party on to-night. I can get you a pass. Will you come?"