that regular shipments of specie have been coming to the bank. If that
specie is in our vaults it ain't sweating off more gold and silver, is
it, or drawing interest? I know you're a shrewd operator, Britt. I ain't
doubting but what your plans may be good."

"They are!" President Britt's retort was crisp.

"But when those plans put a crimp into _my_ plans--and me a steady
customer--I'm opening my mouth to ask questions."

"You--and all other stockholders--will be fully informed by the annual
report--and will be pleased." Britt's air was one of finality.

"Let me tell you that the mouth I have opened to ask questions will stay
open in regard to hoarding that specie where it ain't drawing interest."

Britt jumped up and shook his fist under Stickney's snub nose. "Don't
you dare to go blabbing around the country! You might as well set off a
bomb under our bank as to circulate news that will attract robbers."

"Bomb? Britt, I'm safe when I'm handled right, but if I'm handled
wrong--" Stickney did not finish his sentence; but his truculent air was
pregnant with suggestion.

"Do you think you can blackmail me or this bank into making an exception
in your case against our present policy? Go ahead and talk, Stickney,
and I'll post the people of this town on your selfish tactics--and
you'll see where you get off!"

Stickney did not argue the matter further. He looked like a man who