"If you would only let me know what I can do to thank you," persisted
Randolph.

"Trust the man that trusts you, and hang on to your trust," returned the
president curtly, with a parting nod.

Elated and filled with high hopes as Randolph was, he felt some
trepidation in returning to his hotel. He had to face his landlord with
some explanation of the bank's inquiry. The landlord might consider him
an impostor, and request him to leave, or, more dreadful still, insist
upon keeping the bag. He thought of the parting words of the president,
and resolved upon "hanging on to his trust," whatever happened. But he
was agreeably surprised to find that he was received at the office with
a certain respect not usually shown to the casual visitor. "Your caller
turned up to-day"--Randolph started--"from the Eureka bank," continued
the clerk. "Sorry we could not give your name, but you know you
only left a deposit in your letter and sent a messenger for your key
yesterday afternoon. When you came you went straight to your room.
Perhaps you would like to register now." Randolph no longer hesitated,
reflecting that he could explain it all later to his unknown benefactor,
and wrote his name boldly. But he was still more astonished when the
clerk continued: "I reckon it was a case of identifying you for a
draft--it often happens here--and we'd have been glad to do it for you.
But the bank clerk seemed satisfied with out description of you--you're
easily described, you know" (this in a parenthesis, complimentarily
intended)--"so it's all right. We can give you a better room lower down,
if you're going to stay longer." Not knowing whether to laugh or to be
embarrassed at this extraordinary conclusion of the blunder, Randolph
answered that he had just come from the bank, adding, with a pardonable
touch of youthful pride, that he was entering the bank's employment the