A Canadian Bankclerk Part 37

Robb had refused, for personal reasons, to accept an appointment to a place of ostracism, and that, along with the ill-will of the accountant and a.s.sistant-accountant of Toronto, was sufficient, in the eyes of head office, to justify the cutting down of his salary $150. It had been reduced $750 when he was first sent to Toronto--after more than twenty years' faithful service.

Sam Robb, that night at dinner, looked like a man who had been through a severe illness. He ate little.

"They want me to resign, Evan," he said gutturally, "or they wouldn't have chopped me again. A nice way of squeezing a fellow out, eh?"

"What are you going to do about it?" asked Evan.

"Get drunk," said Robb.

He did, too.

[1] The writer of this book took statistics in Toronto among eight of the leading banks in the summer of 1912, and found that out of 450 clerks 13.1 per cent. were over thirty, and 13.0 per cent. were married. Among those 450 bankclerks at least, a man had to be thirty before he could afford marriage.

CHAPTER XIV.

_POKER AND PREACHING._

A night or two after "Sam's souse," as the staff called it, four of the boys came back to the office and found Evan working, as usual, on the cash-book.

"Still at it?" asked Levison, the paying teller.

"Just struck a balance," replied Nelson.

"Good," said the teller, "we want another man to take a hand in poker.

Come up when you're through."

"I don't know how to play," said Evan.

"You'll soon learn."

"I don't think I want to learn."

Sid grinned and Brower, the ledgerman, called:

"Aw, Nelsy, be a sport; we need some of this outside money."

The boys laughed in chorus and trooped through the office in the direction of the back stairway. There were rooms for juniors above the bank, and one of these was the party's destination.

"We'll look for you, kid," whispered Marks in pa.s.sing the cash-book desk.

Nelson did not reply. He did not like to refuse the boys; besides, he was curious to know just how they acted in a game of poker, and he wanted a little cheap diversion. When his cash-book was ruled up for the following day he locked the vault, and saying to himself that he would just have a look-in for sociability's sake, went upstairs.

The four players were seated at a round table on which were five heaps of matches, one in the centre of the table and one at the elbow of each man. Evan sneaked in quietly and had learned something about poker before he was noticed. Several mysteries, including that attaching to the name "pot," had been solved in his mind before Levison felt the presence of an intruder and turned around with:

"h.e.l.lo, Nelsy, come right in. Did you bring a little of that outside money?"

Evan smiled.

"I don't even know how to spell money," he said.

"All the more reason why you should take a hand," chimed in Brower. "I was broke the night before last, and now I've got three dollars and seventy-five cents, and am specializing in velvet."

"What's velvet?" asked Evan.

"This here," said three of the boys together, indicating reserve heaps of matches.

"And how much does each match stand for?" continued Nelson.

"We're playing penny," answered Levison, "with a nickel limit. That means fairly small losses for each man and a pretty good clean-up for the winner, with five playing."

"Have you been only two nights making three dollars and six bits?" Evan asked Brower.

"Yes," was the reply, "that's more than I can make in two days in the bank."

"Of course," observed Marks, "when you get a bean for a day's work you make it out of the bank, but this night-pay comes out of us. A slight difference, to use the words of a--"

"Come on," interrupted Brower, "ante and get the game a-going again."

"Sure," said Levison, turning away from the cash-book man.

Evan was coaxed no further, but stayed behind the boys and watched their plays. By and by he asked the teller about certain cards.

"Just a minute and I'll show you," said Sid. "Raise you five--pay me--ace high!"

"By Jupiter," grumbled Marks, "my heap looks like the Farmers Bank clearing."

"See," smiled the teller, while the others enjoyed Marks' ill-luck rather than his joke, "I made enough that time to retrieve half an hour's losses."

Evan looked across at the C man.

"How about Marks, though?" he asked, half-seriously.

"Don't worry about muh," cried Marks, "I see a 'straight' coming this time."

The C man laughed so hard and colored so quickly on seeing his hand that the other boys gaped at him and played carefully. He finally bluffed them out with a pair.

In the laughter and uproar that followed, Evan was studious. He had seen through the play, of course; but the excitement rather than the humor of it appealed to him. Here, he said within himself, was entertainment, company and economy combined. None of the boys were losing much, could lose much, and the pleasure they took out of it was surprising. Still, Evan was not fond of the idea of taking the smallest sum from his companions. He knew how hard they worked for it.

"Well, what about it?" asked the teller, suddenly, looking up at Nelson.

"I'm afraid I'd clean up on you fellows if I started," said Evan. "I think I'd be tempted to hand back my winnings at the end of each game."

Marks laughed and the others smiled.