bulletin. He ran to the door and opened it. But the slam of the outside
door informed him that she had gone on her way. Her prompt departure
indicated that she was consistently pursuing the level-headed policy
they had adopted; but the young man, impatient and wondering, was
wishing she had taken a change, for once, even to the prejudice of
policy. He shut his door and hurried to the window.

Though two men were watching her going-away, and though she must have
been conscious of the fact, she did not turn her head to glance behind
her.

At any rate, the thing was over, whatever had happened, the cashier
reflected with relief. Nevertheless, curiosity was nagging at him; he
felt an impulse to go in and inspect the condition of Tasper Britt by
way of securing a hint.

Vaniman, however, shook his head and dropped into the routine of his
duties. The ruts of life in Egypt, especially in the winter, were
deep ones. The cashier had become contented with his little circle of
occupation and recreation.

He carried the books into the vault. He wound the clock that controlled
the mechanism of bolts and bars, and pushed the big outer door shut and
made certain that it was secure.

Having finished as cashier, he became janitor.

Egypt had no electric lights. Vaniman trimmed the kerosene reflector
lamp and set it on the table so that the front of the safe would be
illuminated for the benefit of the village's night watchman.