A Canadian Bankclerk Part 35

"Hang that man Watson, where is he?"

Stimulated by the slang Evan made a great effort to qualify. Key noticed his earnestness, and softened.

"I beg pardon, old chap," he said, "you'll be all right in a few days."

Thereafter they were good friends. Whenever Evan wanted to know anything he went to the little grey-haired discount clerk and had it explained.

The day after his off-day Robb was on duty, working away silently and morosely. During the slight hill that marked the noon-hour he walked back to the cash-book desk to see Evan. His coming was welcome, for the third teller had just dumped twenty-odd sterling draft requisitions into the cash-book dish.

"Heavens!" said Robb, "they certainly load you down with work, Nelson.

Have you eaten lunch yet?"

"No, I forgot to buy one when the kid was in." He didn't say he had also missed breakfast.

"Send out and get something," said Robb; "I'll make out these drafts for you. This isn't work for the cash book, anyway. I don't see why in ---- they want to kill a man."

Robb's face was grey. He ground his teeth as he ripped the first draft from the pad. As he worked he talked to Evan, who was swallowing dry slices of bread with mustard and stray ligaments of gristle sandwiched between.

"Nelson," he said, "how would you like to come up and room with me?"

Evan's eyes opened with interest.

"Fine," he replied, "if it wouldn't cost too much."

"How much salary do you draw?"

"Three fifty."

Robb turned and gazed at his young friend.

"By G--!" he cried, "that's a crime. I hope when I die that they send me where I can see the torment of bank officials!"

The elder man's face was paler. The alcohol was not yet entirely out of his system. He trembled slightly after delivering so vehement a remark. Evan knew then--or thought he knew--how deeply Robb hated the bank.

"What would board cost me up there, Mr. Robb?" he asked.

The ex-manager thought for a moment.

"I pay seven dollars," he said, "but I can get you in for a month on about four, I think. By that time you will have found another place."

"That will suit me," said Evan; "I'll still have three dollars a week to live on."

Robb's lip curled, and he made a blot over an "i" instead of a dot; but he offered no comment.

"Come up for supper to-night," he invited, "and I'll show you the room.

You might as well move right in, and make a couple of days' hotel expenses out of the bank."

Hurrying through the ordeal called "lunch," in order to let Robb back to his liability, Evan took the Sterling book and figured out exchange.

"Where did you learn that?" asked Robb, watching him do the first draft.

"Watson showed me last night," replied Evan; "we never issued them in the country."

"And they're giving you seven dollars a week. Do you know what this post is worth, Evan? Fifteen hundred dollars a year!"

The figure dazed Evan. He could not conceive of his being worth such a fabulous amount to any corporation.

"It's just as difficult as my job," continued Robb. "There's no difference between one post and another--except in the amount of work done, of energy wasted. It's all a matter of getting into a rut and plugging along there, like a plowman. A fellow needs certain qualifications like accuracy, speed, and a rhinoceros' const.i.tution; but what is there to it, from the standpoint of prospects?

Nothing--except work. I began in this very office twenty-five years ago. In two years I was almost as capable of handling the liability as I am now. All I needed was a little practice. I'm just where I started. I've been going round in a circle. That's banking! Do you think for a holy minute that if I was young again I'd give myself another twenty-five-year sentence? Great Heaven! what wouldn't I give to be back at your age? You may flatter yourself with the notion that you're going to have something nice handed to you some day. Well, you'll get it handed to you, all right, but not in a silver salver.

You'll get it where the chicken got the a-x-e; you'll get it with the bank guillotine. You're now doing thirty dollars worth of work each week at a salary of seven dollars. What guarantee have you that the bank will ever change its policy toward you? If they tie a can on you to-day, it will be a tin pail to-morrow and a milk-can the next day.

Haven't they done it to me, to Willis, to Key, to Levison and a hundred others? My boy, they don't give a fig for you."

So saying, Sam Robb humped his big shoulders and slouched up to his desk, there to bury his head in a gigantic ledger for the balance of the day.

Evan was troubled. He still believed that Robb was exaggerating; had not the ex-manager brought upon himself most of his failure? Evan had heard that pet charge made against disgruntled clerks, and it came to his mind automatically. Still, he had evidence of Robb's faithfulness both at Mt. Alban and here in the city branch, and--he was troubled.

To Evan's surprise, mail from the north brought the cheque Penton had promised to hold in the cash for a week. Not having checked out of his hotel yet, he had not submitted an expense account to Toronto office, and consequently had no funds.

The accountant brought the cheque to Nelson.

"Don't you know that floating cheques is against the rules?" he said, menacingly.

"Yes, sir, but Mr. Penton promised to hold it for me. Besides--"

"That makes no difference," returned Charon, impatiently, "this sort of thing has got to stop."

Evan tried to get a word in, but the accountant, declaring he had no time for parleying, turned away with: "We'll hold it over till to-morrow."

Had Penton tried to get the ex-teller "in bad" by sending the cheque so soon? It would, thought Nelson, be perfectly in harmony with the Banfield manager's knavery. Probably Henty had quit, suddenly; and, angered, Penton had sought revenge on Henty's old a.s.sociate. However, there was no harm done, thought Evan; and he dismissed the matter from his mind--the cash book was load enough.

The cash book was, in fact, more than enough of a load, at first. On the second day of Evan's city experience, about six o'clock, Robb came around and asked him how he was progressing.

"I'm all balled up," was the answer.

Robb grinned.

"Never mind," he said, "come on up to the house and I'll help you out after supper. Never work--especially on a cash book--when you need nourishment."

Unwillingly postponing work, Evan followed his old manager. He said he knew Robb's boarding-house would suit him, so he went over to the hotel and ordered his luggage sent up. Robb went with him; and, finding a mistake of one dollar in the hotel bill, called the clerk down without blinking. Evan thought he would like to be able to do that. He was going to learn the art away out in Saskatchewan.

Robb's lodging suited his young friend perfectly. It was quite central, just a nice walk from the bank. After dinner the two of them sat in the living-room, smoking.

"This is going to feel like home to me," said Evan. "I don't see how they can put up board like this for four dollars."

"Well, it will only last a month," replied Robb, and whispered: "Don't tell anybody you're getting it so cheap; that's a secret between us and Mrs. Greig."

"All right," Nelson promised.