roads of destiny-第30节
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tation。
Indecision had no part in the movements of the man with the wallet。 He was short in stature； but strongly built； with very light； closely… trimmed hair； smooth； determined face； and aggressive； gold…rimmed nose glasses。 He was well dressed in the prevailing Eastern style。 His air denoted a quiet but conscious reserve force； if not actual authority。
After walking a distance of three squares he came to the centre of the town's business area。 Here another street of importance crossed the main one； forming the hub of San Rosario's life and commerce。 Upon one corner stood the post…office。 Upon another Rubensky's Clothing Emporium。 The other two diagonally opposing corners were occupied by the town's two banks； the First National and the Stockmen's National。 Into the First National Bank of San Rosario the newcomer walked； never slowing his brisk step until he stood at the cashier's window。 The bank opened for business at nine； and the working force was already assembled； each member preparing his department for the day's business。 The cashier was examining the mail when he noticed the stranger standing at his window。
〃Bank doesn't open 'til nine；〃 he remarked curtly； but without feeling。 He had had to make that statement so often to early birds since San Rosario adopted city banking hours。
〃I am well aware of that；〃 said the other man； in cool； brittle tones。 〃Will you kindly receive my card？〃
The cashier drew the small； spotless parallelogram inside the bars of his wicket； and read：
J。F。C Nettlewick National Bank Examiner
〃Oherwill you walk around inside； Mr。erNettlewick。 Your first visitdidn't know your business； of course。 Walk right around； please。〃
The examiner was quickly inside the sacred precincts of the bank； where he was ponderously introduced to each employee in turn by Mr。 Edlinger； the cashiera middle…aged gentleman of deliberation； discretion； and method。
〃I was kind of expecting Sam Turner round again； pretty soon；〃 said Mr。 Edlinger。 〃Sam's been examining us now； for about four years。 I guess you'll find us all right； though； considering the tightness in business。 Not overly much money on hand； but able to stand the storms； sir； stand the storms。〃
〃Mr。 Turner and I have been ordered by the Comptroller to exchange districts；〃 said the examiner； in his decisive； formal tones。 〃He is covering my old territory in Southern Illinois and Indiana。 I will take the cash first； please。〃
Perry Dorsey； the teller； was already arranging his cash on the counter for the examiner's inspection。 He knew it was right to a cent； and he had nothing to fear； but he was nervous and flustered。 So was every man in the bank。 There was something so icy and swift； so impersonal and uncompromising about this man that his very presence seemed an accusation。 He looked to be a man who would never make nor overlook an error。
Mr。 Nettlewick first seized the currency； and with a rapid； almost juggling motion； counted it by packages。 Then he spun the sponge cup toward him and verified the count by bills。 His thin； white fingers flew like some expert musician's upon the keys of a piano。 He dumped the gold upon the counter with a crash； and the coins whined and sang as they skimmed across the marble slab from the tips of his nimble digits。 The air was full of fractional currency when he came to the halves and quarters。 He counted the last nickle and dime。 He had the scales brought； and he weighed every sack of silver in the vault。 He questioned Dorsey concerning each of the cash memorandacertain checks； charge slips； etc。； carried over from the previous day's work with unimpeachable courtesy； yet with something so mysteriously momentous in his frigid manner； that the teller was reduced to pink cheeks and a stammering tongue。
This newly…imported examiner was so different from Sam Turner。 It had been Sam's way to enter the bank with a shout； pass the cigars； and tell the latest stories he had picked up on his rounds。 His customary greeting to Dorsey had been； 〃Hello； Perry！ Haven't skipped out with the boodle yet； I see。〃 Turner's way of counting the cash had been different； too。 He would finger the packages of bills in a tired kind of way； and then go into the vault and kick over a few sacks of silver； and the thing was done。 Halves and quarters and dimes？ Not for Sam Turner。 〃No chicken feed for me；〃 he would say when they were set before him。 〃I'm not in the agricultural department。〃 But； then； Turner was a Texan； an old friend of the bank's president； and had known Dorsey since he was a baby。
While the examiner was counting the cash； Major Thomas B。 Kingman known to every one as 〃Major Tom〃the president of the First National； drove up to the side door with his old dun horse and buggy； and came inside。 He saw the examiner busy with the money； and； going into the little 〃pony corral；〃 as he called it； in which his desk was railed off； he began to look over his letters。
Earlier； a little incident had occurred that even the sharp eyes of the examiner had failed to notice。 When he had begun his work at the cash counter； Mr。 Edlinger had winked significantly at Roy Wilson； the youthful bank messenger； and nodded his head slightly toward the front door。 Roy understood； got his hat； and walked leisurely out； with his collector's book under his arm。 Once outside； he made a bee…line for the Stockmen's National。 That bank was also getting ready to open。 No customers had； as yet； presented themselves。
〃Say； you people！〃 cried Roy； with the familiarity of youth and long acquaintance； 〃you want to get a move on you。 There's a new bank examiner over at the First； and he's a stem…winder。 He's counting nickles on Perry； and he's got the whole outfit bluffed。 Mr。 Edlinger gave me the tip to let you know。〃
Mr。 Buckley； president of the Stockmen's Nationala stout； elderly man； looking like a farmer dressed for Sundayheard Roy from his private office at the rear and called him。
〃Has Major Kingman come down to the bank yet？〃 he asked of the boy。
〃Yes； sir； he was just driving up as I left；〃 said Roy。
〃I want you to take him a note。 Put it into his own hands as soon as you get back。〃
Mr。 Buckley sat down and began to write。
Roy returned and handed to Major Kingman the envelope containing the note。 The major read it； folded it； and slipped it into his vest pocket。 He leaned back in his chair for a few moments as if he were meditating deeply； and then rose and went into the vault。 He came out with the bulky； old…fashioned leather note case stamped on the back in gilt letters； 〃Bills Discounted。〃 In this were the notes due the bank with their attached securities； and the major； in his rough way； dumped the lot upon his desk and began to sort them over。
By this time Nettlewick had finished his count of the cash。 His pencil fluttered like a swallow over the sheet of paper on which he had set his figures。 He opened his black wallet； which seemed to be also a kind of secret memorandum book； made a few rapid figures in it； wheeled and transfixed Dorsey with the glare of his spectacles。 That look seemed to say： 〃You're safe this time； but〃
〃Cash all correct；〃 snapped the examiner。 He made a dash for the individual bookkeeper； and； for a few minutes there was a fluttering of ledger leaves and a sailing of balance sheets through the air。
〃How often do you balance your pass…books？〃 he demanded； suddenly。
〃Eronce a month；〃 faltered the individual bookkeeper； wondering how many years they would give him。
〃All right；〃 said the examiner； turning and charging upon the general bookkeeper； who had the statements of his foreign banks and their reconcilement memoranda ready。 Everything there was found to be all right。 Then the stub book of the certificates of deposit。 Flutter flutterzipzipcheck！ All right。 List of over…drafts； please。 Thanks。 H'm…m。 Unsigned bills of the bank； next。 All right。
Then came the cashier's turn； and easy…going Mr。 Edlinger rubbed his nose and polished his glasses nervously under the quick fire of questions concerning the circulation； undivided profits； bank real estate； and stock ownership。
Presently Nettlewick was aware of a big man towering above him at his elbowa man sixty years of age； rugged and hale； with a rough； grizzled beard； a mass of gray hair； and a pair of penetrating blue eyes that confronted the formidable glasses of the examiner without a flicker。
〃ErMajor Kingman； our presidenterMr。 Nettlewick；〃 said the cashier。
Two men of very different types shook hands。 One was a finished product of the world of straight lines； conventional methods； and formal affairs。 The other was something freer； wider； and nearer to nature。 Tom Kingman had not been cut to any pattern。 He had been mule…driver； cowboy； ranger； soldier； sheriff； prospector； and cattleman。 Now； when he was bank president； his old comrades from the prairies； of the saddle； tent； and trail found no change in him。 He had made his fortune when Texas cattle were at the high tide of value； and had organized the First National Bank of San Rosario。 In spite of his largeness of heart and sometimes unwise generosity toward his old friends； the bank had prospered； for Major Tom Kingman knew men as well as he knew cat
