there was plenty of it, and it seemed to be very firmly rooted.

"I don't remember that I mentioned it, Mr. Britt, but I do have an
errand with you."

"All right! What is it?" Mr. Britt was not revealing any emotions that
Vaniman found illuminating in regard to his particular quest.

"I am being tongue-lashed terribly through the wicket. Men won't believe
that I'm obeying the orders of you and the board when accommodation is
refused. Won't you take the matter off my hands--let me refer all to
you?"

"I don't keep a dog and do my own barking," rasped the president. He
brought his eyes down from the young man's hair and noted that Vaniman
stiffened and was displaying resentment.

"That's only a Yankee motto--you needn't take it as personal, Vaniman.
I have turned over to you the running of the bank. I say to all that
you're running it. You ought to feel pretty well set up!"

"I obey your orders, sir," returned the cashier, not warming.

"That's all right for an understanding between us two. But I let the
public think you're the whole thing. I tell 'em I've got full confidence
in you. You don't want the public to think you're only a rubber stamp,
do you?"

"The general opinion right now seems to be that I'm either a first-class
liar or Shylock sentenced to a second term on earth," retorted Vaniman,