The most important point of difference between Eric and his father was that the young man was a natural spendthrift, whereas Mr. Spaythe had always been frugal with his money. We may well suppose that this characteristic of Eric was a thorn in the banker’s flesh; but he realized that the boy was young and so did not despair of being able to instill in him a knowledge of the importance of husbanding his means. For this reason he allowed Eric a very small salary, and wondered how the boy could purchase so many fine clothes and articles of fashionable attire with so little money. The tradesmen knew, of course, but considered the banker’s son well entitled to credit.
Phil was accorded a kindly reception at the bank. Mr. Boothe turned his expressionless eyes full upon the new clerk and shook his hand automatically. Eric was delighted to have his old friend associated with him, and elated, as well, by his own promotion to be head bookkeeper. Mr. Spaythe, keenly interested in the important changes in his force of employees, left his private office to overlook the counting room and satisfy himself that the boys understood their duties. Eric protested that he was quite competent to fill Ned Thurber’s place, having been his assistant for the past two years; and, indeed, the banker’s son seemed adequately able in business ways, if he could be induced to keep his mind on his work. After inspecting his entries now and then Mr. Spaythe seemed satisfied with his son’s ability and turned his attention to Phil, who really needed a guiding hand. His extra course in bookkeeping at the high school now stood him in good stead, and he was intelligent enough to quickly grasp his instructions.
“If at any time you are in doubt, Eric will post you,” said the banker; but for several days he made it a point to frequently examine the ledgers and assure himself that the work was progressing satisfactorily. Afterward, so well did both Eric and Phil accomplish their tasks, that Mr. Spaythe left them much to their own devices and kept himself shut up in his private office, as formerly.
The mechanical cashier was not an especially companionable man. Mr. Boothe began each day with a “good morning” to his fellow employees and ended it with a brief “good night.” During the day he said nothing, unless required to answer the questions of the bank’s customers. His accounts were always absolutely accurate, and Mr. Spaythe knew he was justified in relying implicitly upon his cashier to do his duty.
That was a happy Saturday afternoon for Phil when he brought home his first week’s wages and deposited the new ten dollar gold-piece in Cousin Judith’s hand.
“That will help some, won’t it?” he inquired, anxiously.
“It will help a great deal,” was the reply.
About this time Marion Randolph came home from college for the long vacation. She was the eldest daughter of the house, and about the same age as Phil and Phœbe. Judith, looking from her window, saw Marion on the lawn the morning after her arrival and noted her slender, angular form, her delicate, refined face and well-bred poise. She at once decided Marion would be a valuable acquaintance for Phœbe, and decided to bring the two girls together.
“Let us call on the Randolphs this afternoon,” she suggested to Phœbe. “Since they are recent arrivals at Riverdale it is really our duty to call upon them formally. They are likely to prove pleasant acquaintances.”
“I’ve really nothing fit to wear, Cousin Judith,” replied the girl.