not right.

He was cold-blooded and generally
disliked by the men under him. The
more evil-minded gossips in the bank
said he was in league with ``Old
Nick.'' That, of course, was absurd,
for it does not necessarily follow,
because a man suggests a means looking
to an end, disreputable though it be,
that he has Mephistopheles for a silent
partner. The conservative element
among the employees would not openly
venture so far, but rather thought if his
satanic majesty and old Sanders ran a
race, the former would come in a bad
second, if he were not distanced altogether.

The old man always reached the office
at nine. Mr. Wallace usually arrived a
half hour later, seldom earlier, which was
so well understood by Sanders that he
was greatly surprised when he walked
into the president's office, the morning
after that gentleman had attended
Diotti's concert, to find the head of the
firm already there and apparently waiting for him.

``Sanders,'' said the banker, ``I
want your advice on a matter of great