"Of course not." She touched him lightly upon the arm. "You knew that
Mr. Bell, cashier of the National Penn Bank, had died?"
"No. Is that so! That's too bad." Then suddenly Deacon sat erect. "By George! Father is one of the assistant cashiers there. I wonder if he'll be promoted." He turned upon the girl. "Is that what you wanted to tell me?"
She waited a bit before replying.
"No—not exactly that."
"Not exactly——What do you mean?"
"Do you know how keen Mr. Doane, I mean Junior's father is on rowing? Well,"—as Deacon nodded,—"have you thought how he might feel toward the father of the man who is going to sit in his son's seat in the race to-morrow? Would it make him keen to put that father in Mr. Bell's place?"
Deacon's exclamation was sharp.
"Who asked you to put that thought in my mind?"
"Ah!" Her hand went out, lying upon his arm. "I was afraid you were going to take it that way. Mother was talking this afternoon. I thought you should know. As for Junior Doane, I'm frank to admit I'm awfully keen about him. But that isn't why I came here. I remember how close you and your father used to be. I—I thought perhaps you'd thank me, if—if——"
"What you mean is that because I have beaten Doane out for stroke, his father may be sore and not promote my father at the bank."