“What are you doing in a bank?”
“Banking was my business, at one time.”
“Thought you hadn't any business.”
“I haven't had any, for some years. Now I have. How do you wish this money? In tens and fives?”
“Yes. Nothing bigger. Down here it restricts the circulation if you spring a twenty dollar bill on them. So you've taken to banking? I was thinking of corraling you for a gunning trip one of these days. Now it's all off, I suppose.”
“It looks that way. Sorry I am to be deprived of the pleasure.”
“Humph!” Then, with one of his sudden changes, “How big a business does this concern do? What do your deposits amount to?”
I gave him the figures, as printed in the yearly statement. He made no comment. Instead he observed, “You haven't been around to accept that offer of mine yet, Paine.”
“Not yet,” I answered.
“Suppose I ought to raise it, now that you're a financier yourself. However, I shan't.”