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Just inside the cashier's window was a thin, sandy-haired man, and when the crowd had entered and their little noises had subsided somewhat, he began speaking with a disagreeable crack to his voice:

"Howdy, boys, I'm glad to see you, an' I hope you'll all come out to church to-morrow. You are strangers in our little city, and I extend you this invitation to our religious services. Well, so you've all come to make your deposits? Mighty glad to see that. If you haven't already got an account started here, you certainly can't find a better time than right this minute to start one. You all know what the bible says about the faithful steward who put his money out at usury and when the Master called for his talents, he had four pieces instead of two. Yes, boys, God wants you to save your money. It's your Christian duty. All right now, you," the cashier pointed a thin possessive finger at the man nearest him, "will you let me have your slip?"

The man pushed through the window his slip which contained his name and the amount due him.

"Do you want to deposit all this, Mr. Fraley?" asked the cashier with a certain disagreeable quality in the solicitous glide of his voice.

"Naw, I don't want to deposit none of it," said Fraley.

"You don't!"—with pained astonishment at Fraley's obduracy in the face of a Biblical quotation.

"Naw, I don't."

"What are you going to do with this money, Mr. Fraley?"

"Pay my board," said Fraley, with somewhat shortened temper.

The cashier gave Fraley a pale bloodless smile. "Now, you'll just throw away this money, Fraley, shooting craps, or spend it for moonshine over at Caly Stegall's place. There ain't no use in you fooling away your money like that. Five dollars will pay your board, and you just leave the rest here in the bank so you can get it when you want it and need it!" The cashier stressed the two words with religious unction as if he and Mr. Fraley were both sure that at present Fraley