The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 30, 1905, Page 9

July y or Fourth of s Birth ot reasing- s’ comes on: Morn i the fifth day of July or the d day of February or whatever day Tuesday may chance to be is burdened with the labor of three If the hank clerk takes is cuffe and his moral es for a tall exhi- bition of elementary arithmetic. It is hot well to ask a favor of the cashier on such a Tuesday. Bob turned up at the bank on Tues- day and his reception would have tened a person lack- sng as tough an integument. As it was, Bob didn't seem to realize he had been wn. Mr. Martin, thescashier, at off and both hands work- ike an electric fan in mass of bills which Uncle Sam should filthy L have redeemed and turned into papler mache hats and vases 1 ago. The day was unseasonably w , and the cashier's collar slapped Iimp and gluey upon his apoplectic neck. At intervals he turned his head away and said something not meant for the teller'’s ears -while he sprinkled the reeking mass with rosewater from a bottle on the counter. Most of the bills had been dragged from deep pockets by members in the thirty-third degree of the great unwashed fraternity, and, as the cashier had remarxed, they. car- rie¢ ome hundred scents to the dollar. But that was on a previous occasion. There was no time for any such levity on Tuesday. July 5. “Please, sir, I'm lookin’ for a job.” We ail heard it, but its origin was not immediately apparent. The cashier continued counting - dirty bills. Mr. Harvey, the teller, glanced at the cash- jer and returned to his books. Tom, who wee “on the ledger,” paused with 2 check in his fingers and his pen on the line, took one swift look in the direction of the sound, evidently saw nothing and proceeded to enter the check. The rest of us were engaged with mercilessly multitudinous checks end seemingly endless columns, and did not eyenp psuse. The cashier had in- formed us that if we wanted anything to eat that night before we caved in we had better “hit it up pretty lively. “Mister, Y say I'm lookin’ for a job.” This time we all stopped, supper or no supper. The cashier-Jooked up an- grily and beheld a small boy, not over- washed, villainously red-headed, and, judging from the age of his face, stunt- ed in his growth. His eyes did not g T \ ORTH PA the level ¢f the counter. - It was 4, and the doors had been locked for an hour. He must have angived via the. window. “I'd Mke to run your errands,”the elu- cidated pleasantly. ‘We have no place for you,” said the cashier shortly, and in a tone which 1ade further conversation on .the sub- Ject ludicrous. The boy retreated to the window and sat down on the sill. "At 5 he was still there. He didn’t even whistle. He sim- ply stayed with us, his eyes roving he bank and taking stock,.as e. At 6 he had not departed We were working furiously.: T had a ten cent difference and w crowing gray-hunting for it. I was some hundred and fifty odd dollars out, and was rapidly losing my reason. Jim hadn’t his checks even entered yet, and was apparently going to sleep standing. Art had his balance, and from the top of a stotd was yawning, and between gasps smiling sweetly at my vocabf- lary and egging me on. By seven we were all waiting for Jim. He had his footings, he said, and thought he had a difference, but wasn’t sure how much. At tais brilllant announcement Tom took Jim’s books and stralghtened things out. By that time it was seven- thirty, and I for cme was limp with hunger. Fortunately the cash was $2 over, and we closed up for the night. -As the cashier philosophically observed, if the bank was ahead $2, there'd be no trou- ble finding out who was short. As we turned out the Jights and shut the shutters we came upon the boy, still sitting in the window. Tom asked him who he was and he said his name was Bob. He gave no sign of needing sym- pathy expressed in either words or cash. Rather he gave one the impres- sion of bein~ excellently well able to care for himself. He left the bank with us, and we separated in a wild rush for something to eat. : I was the first to reach the bank next morning, but Bob was waiting on the steps outside. He came in with me, helped me open the windows, and would have accompanied me nside the cage had I not remonstra.ed. I was not sure whether he thought he belonged to the bank or the bank belonged to him, but it_was one of the two. He took the rebuff, however, ‘with a resigned phil- osophy, and seated himself as before in the open window. When Tom ar- rived he ‘stopped short on seeing the Y. ““Well, kid, been here afl night?” he asked pleasantly. “Yep,” replied Bob. “Where?" asked Tom at the startling announcement. _“Out front,” replied the boy. B ‘3ou didn’t*sleep on' the*steps?* “Had any breakfast?" ‘Nope.” “The deuce! last night?” “Nope."" “Why, the devil—you must be near starved.” “You're dead right,” said Bob. Tom hurriedly brought out a quarter and gave it to him, telling him to go across the street and fill up. The boy cbeyed without wasting any time, and Tom came inside. “Did you hear what that kid said?” he asked me. “How about his sleeping on those stone steps without anything to eat? It makes me cold to think of £t The cashier and Mr. Harvey had both arrived when Bob returned.. Tom re- lated the conversation, and the cashier spoke not unkindly to the boy. “What are you doing around hera?” Have anything to eat he said. “Lookin’ for a job, sir,” saild Bob sol- emnly. “But I told you we had no place for you,” said the cashier. “Well, I thought I'd just hang around an’ see if somethin’ didn’t turn up,” he replied. He seated himself in the %indoew and proceeded to “hang around.” His first official recognition came about 10 o’clock, when the cashier gave him a sight draft to take around to Jim. Clark for acceptance: “Get him to write his name on the face of-it,” he explained, as'Bob left. Twelve ¢'clock came and. he had not returned. “Takes that boy a good while to go round the corner-and back,” observed the cashier. “I.-didn't like his looks the first tiine I saw him,” said Harvey. “He looked sort of slow to' me.” It Thay be stated here as well as else- where that Harvey's intellect has never beén known te produce an original idea. Certainly he has never expressed one. . Inside the bank he is the cash- jer's “me-too” in all things, however great cr small. Outside he fills a like position for any one he chances to meet. Harvey is loosely put together and walks from his knees as though he feared a good full swing might shake a leg off. Now it is a singular fact, but 1 have never known a man who walked from his knees who amounted to a row of brass tacks with the heads off. However, to give the angel his due, he is a fair accountant and draws a good salary, which goes to show that in this perverse generation of vipers it isn't always the man who commands the money.. I, for instance, was getting only about half as much as Harvey, About 12:30 the telephone bell had an unusually violent spasm, and I answer- ed the call.. Jim Clark requested, jin no vacillating spirit, that we call off our dog. For ‘a moment I thought Mr. \ Clark was suddenly gone insane, and I was rapidly formulating plans to hold his attention while I sent for Willlams, the constable, when I remembered Bob. “There’s a boy over here with a draft,” pursued Mr. Clark; “says he's from the bank. I don’t owe the money, and I won’t accept the thing, an’ he says he’ll stay with me till T write my name on the face. Says you people told him to. Send somebody over here an’ gét him, will you?” _ 1 had to go over and bring Bob back, as he declined to be “called off” by means-of the: ’'phone. He told Mr. Clark he wasn't that easy. Everybody in our town knows every- body else—at least by sight; and pre- vious to his advent at the bank Bob had not been oné of the population. ‘Whence he came he declined to state, simply saying he “‘come in a boxcar.” Aside from what we dubbed his “car- rot patch,” he was by no means bril- liant or ctherwise attractive; in fact, he was distinctly the opposite. But for THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY * parent. deadly tenacity of poge, as marked, “he’d beat me bull in a bench show.” So far as we could learn he had made no other endeavor to get a place. He came to us first, it may be by chance; he liked our looks, and he stayed with us like a'Vera Cruz flea. However, Bob had been with us near- ly a year, and had, as I say, made him- self indispensable to Jim and me be- fore -he succeeded in attaching himself to the ‘bank as ome of the permanent fixtures. “After-the events I am about to relate the directors wauld have put up with the loss of the cashier, or Har- vey, or even me, before they would errier have let Bob go. He's with us yet, and " will be tlill either he or the bank goes up. : Our- bank is the only institution cf the kind in the vicinity. North ane must go six miles, south twenty miles and west twelve miles to find another place of deposit, and to the cast is the Atiantic Ocean. This being so, the bank is unusually prosperous for a-country institution, paying regular dividends cf 12 and 13 per cent to its stockholders. It is run conservatively,'and'is as sound and safe as United States 4s—almost. Qur trouble began. with the failure of the Tidewater Trust Company of New York. This bank was our: city correspondent, and with it. we had on deposit some $40,000, drawing a’law in- terest and available immediatély in time of need. This amount was nearly four-fifths of our ready cash to meet the demands of depositors. The bulk of our deposits was, of course, invested in short time paper, nat avallable until maturity—and not 'always then—and some of the assets was in the form of real estate, inconvertible except at a heavy loss. There was something likg $10,000 cash actually in the bank to me: $200,000 worth of deposits, and the day when the New York papers announced the failure of the Tids ter saw, the beginning of the only run our bank has ever experienced. That it stood - the strain was due entirely to Bob. . Fortunately the knowledge that . we were badly caught in the Tidewater failure did not become generally known until afternoon, and the $10,000 held out till we could close the bank doors at 3. I was dismally doing my work that night, wondering where I.could get an- other place if the bank went under, when I became -aware of Bob at my elhow. He looked more doleful than I telt. “Oh! cheer.up,’ I said: “it may not be true. Ycu look as though you'd just been measured by the undertaker.’” He looked at me solemnly, as though not certain of my sanity. “We'll pull through vet,” I sald. “Hu'h,” he grunted; “I ain't worry- ing none about the bank. Mr. Martin'll tend to the bank all right.” The cashier was his god, and before him only he bowed down. “I seen me dad this afterncon,” he added dismally. ‘“Well, that's good,” I said; “bring him round and introduce him. If he's anything like you, though, tell him not to make a long call,”” I added. It is never well to let a boy get the idea he is indispensable, even when he is. “He didn’t see me, though,” Bob con- ‘tinued, ignoring my levity. “Wonder hcw he follered me clean here. Thought T'd shook him for keeps. ' I bet he ain't bummin’ 'round. here for no good, neither.” “You unfilial little said. “You do smiles at the advent of your lohg-lost barbarian,” I “Tink you're funny, hu'h?” said Bob, and:left promptly forgot his dad. There was a convocation of directors in_the bank parlors that afternoon, ‘which immediately converted itself into a committee ¢f the whole. on ways and means. Mr. Martin had sent off tele- ‘grams to half a dozen of the nearest don't you, e, ‘and -1 anks asking assistance and offering to - deposit bonds as security. - Ten thou- sand dollars was obtained in this way from the Beach Grove Banking Com- pany, and came in-on the ‘last train south that evening. The only other bank able to help was_ the Longford -First National, which offered $20,000 if we would come and ger {ts The last train to the west was gone, and there was_po train back that night. - Longford is twelve miles west of our N\ n’'t seem incrusted with’ re-"town and over bad roads. If we coyld get this $20,000, the cashier believed it ‘Wwould tide us over and restore confi- dence in our ability to pay dollar for dollar, If we did not get it the bank must close its doors by 12 next day al- most to a certainty. Some one must drive across to Longford with the bonds and return with the money be- fore the bank cpened next marning. Our part of the country is as safe as any other; but under the circumstances, when the composite eye of the commu- nity was centered upon the bank, it ‘would be impossible for one of the bank force to leave town without the object is mission. being immediately sur- m And in our town it is a common n,i g that a dollar bill looks to gome folk as big as a ten-acre lot. So it was net-a hilarious party which drove west late that evening. There was too much at stake. ' ‘We had a two-seated buckboard and a good team. The cashbier and I sat behind, with the bonas mn a valise be- tween us. When we were ready to start;. Bob climbed up beside the driver on the front seat. “Here, Bob,” sald Mr. Martin sharp- ly. “we can't take you.” . “I got to go," said Bob simply, and he went. Mr. Martin may have real- ized that sicce he had decided to go it woulld be impossible to leave him be- hind. He would have materialized at Longford from some impossible part of the vehicle ag sure as we had tried it. 'Jl“he cashier had two revolvers and I had one. The other one of the four al- ways kept in the bank ceéuld not be found when we were ready to start. However, we didn’t use those we had. ‘We reached Longford in good time and drove directly to the bank. : The cashier had been adviséd of our coming by tel- egram, ‘and was walting for, us. - We handed over the bonds, received the cash in small bills, and started back in good spirits. It was near 2 in the morning when" we_approached our town. I had had a hard day’'s work, and confess to hav- ing been nearer agleep than awake, Still I heard Bob s&y to the driver: *1f anything happens you give the horses _omne almighty. cut: an’ drive for town, an’ don't stop t{ll we get there— see?"” [ The driver laughed. “Don't get scared, kid,” “We're most heme now.” . About .one minute ‘after this things happened. The buckboard stopped with a jolt, he sald. 'PUT UP. Yo DAD; 1G0T YO and I came back to the melancholy “things of earth, which I found:to con- sist mainly of the wrong end of a 44 caliber revolver, Mr. Martin was see- ing similar sights on his side of the vehicle. I am not the hero of this nar- rative, and I freely confess.that I put up myy hands—good and high. want whoever had the other end of that gun to entertain any doubts about my intentions. I was anxious he should know I was peaceful—extremely so. What the cashler did I do not know, but I have my suspicions. At the time my own troubles were the paramount issue. That 44 bore anialmost speaking likeness- to a thirteen-Inch gun, and I was completely certain if it exploded it would blow the whole upper half of me off into stellar space. I know ex- actly how those Sepoys felt before the British. gunners pulled the lanyards. The upper half of me didn't want to go. I felt the vallse lifted from my side, and then we were told to drive on and not look behind. “It won't be healthy for you,” said a voice, Bob had vanished. He sat in front of me, but I had not seen him go. The driver said he had slipped to the ground the moment the horses stopped, and we pleasantly surmised he had been worse scared than we were. We drove into that sleeping town with our horses in a lather, and within the hour partieg were out raking the country for the perpetrators.of the “hold-up.” We decided there had been three of them. One had selzéd 'the horses and the . other two had attended to the cashier and me. . The president and directors absolved us from all blame ‘after ‘hearing the story, but Mr. Martin: sat at his desk .with bowed head. He had been with the bank for twenty years, and to know that the institution was doomed and that he was at least partially respon- sible was a hard blow. I felt bad enough myself, but it must have been harder for him. T had known some blue times before, ‘and have knouwn some since; but for concentrated aniline and indigo, that orning holds the .palm In my ex# ce. We were all dead tired. (A had worked under the strain till we were mentally and physically incapaci- tated, and then had worked on till our I didn't™ nerve was gone. Then, too, if was at that fearfully devitalizing time,” the hour before sunrise. If you have ever gotten up at 3 of a winter's morning to.go duck hunting and, after walking ten miles with a ten-bore gun, have found no duck, you can get some idea of our depression. Also we had had no breakfast. s Things were undoubtedly bad, but if the sun had been up I think we would have fcund some means of eseape after all. - But in the dead, cold gloom of the hour before dawn I felt about ready for my coffin, and the rest looked it. Every time the door opened we lcoked eagerly up, hoping even when we knew there was next to no hope, and each time it was to be disappointed again. So two eternal hours passed. Harvey was wandering around ahd acting like @ she-ass, of course, telling Martin not to mind, and it couldn’t be helped, till it was a wonder some ome didn't kill bim. I considered the matter with a feeling that it would at least create a diversion and relieve the suspense. Jim and Art were discussing the “hold-up.” and telling each other what the cashier and I should have done. Their conversation did not interest me. They had not sxperienced the thirteen- inch gun. Tom didn't say a word: didn't even look at ws. I always did think he }-md good horse sense, and now I knew t. Half a dozen of the directors were sitting around, talking spasmodicaily and in whispers, and minutely exam- ining the cracks in the floor. I remem- ber thinking that when a gang of direc- tars zot.together and didn't make any more noise than that, there was some mighty heavy sledding ahead, and no signs of snow. I tried to sleep, but couldn’t. I had too much: to think about. There was nothing ahead but three or four hour: more work, and then closing the d and leaving the old place, with Government- Commissioner in the charge, ‘and starting out to find a new job sev- eral steps down the ladder. Not a cheerful prospect. ‘The outer door opened. I didn't turn my head. The spring that worked my hope machine was played out. Then [ heard an unusually profane yell from Tom, and he went by me and out the cage door like a haifback carrying the ball. I took one look toward the door and followed in similar fashion. ‘What we saw was & tramp carrying a gatchel—the satchel. Behind him was another, nursing a badly cut up right ~hand and exploding steadily in highly colored language. And behind both came Bob, with a revolver at full cock and his face a pea-green yellow. It took us_abot forty-eight seconds to tie those tramps hand and foot. and Bob put down the gun and came inside with the satchel. “It's all there Mr. Martin,” he said. “I<canght ‘em ’fore they got it open. Ap'—) gness I'll sit down.” He collepsed intg Martin’s chair, and that was the first he knew he was hurt. ‘We got him out on the floor and open- ed his shirt. and Martin looked mighty lumpy in the throat while we were do- ing it. I'm not saying hew I feit. I thought the kid was done for.. He had a blue-black spot high up in his left shoulder, and he’d bled about all thers was in him I should think. Harvey came out from somewhers and ready to faint, and Martin sent-him off for Doe Richards, and Tom told him to be “pretty sudden about it.” At such -times seniority of office doesn’t count. The directors were treading on one apother .to fetch water and produce handkerchiefs, and the president drew out a silver flask and we gave Bob some brandy. That revived him, and he tried to get up. “I ain’t hart much,” he protested. just feel sorter empty—that's all.” He fell back weakly, however, and lay quiet for a moment. Then he grin- ned happily and sald: *I knew dad 'd be up to some mean- ness. He don't miss any chances.” “Say, it was great,” he said present- ly, with another gri “T just walked in on ‘em while th was pryin’ the satchel open, an’ I says, ‘Put up your hands, dad;.I got you,” an’ instead o" puttin® up the way the books says they does he pulled a revolver an’ shot me. But, say, I fired 'bout the same time an’ knocked his revolver all to chunks. Gee, it was great!" He stopped again from sheer weak- ness. Then he looked up at Martin on his knees beside him and said: “Next time I'm goin’ to drive, Mr. Martin. - If that blame driver had cut the horses like I told him to we'd "a come through all right.” “Very well, Bob,” sald Martin, and I think he meant It. He was bleeding, to death, and I thought the doctor Would never come. Tt seemed pretty tough luck after what he'd done. His parent was lying on his back, cursing like an Irish Gat- ling gun, and when I got to the point where 1 had to do something or make a fool of myself I hunted up Willlams, and we kicked them both on to thelr feet and put them in the lock-up. When I got back the dactor was mak- ing his examination., It was a solemn crowd that stood aroumnd and watched him. Bob was the only eheerful one in, the lot. Fortupatelys the bullet had gone clear thrdugh, so there was no probing to do. When the last bandags was fixed Bob tried to get up again and had to be held down while Doec Richards explained to him that he would probably biged to death if he didn’'t lle still. Then we put. him on an improvised stretcher and took him up to Martin's. I waylaid the doctor. “Will he get well, Doc? I asked. “Yes,” sald the doctor, “I think se. He lost a lot of blood, but he’s pretty tough, and with Mrs. Martin and the girls to nurse him he’ll be around be- fore 1 . I waited till I got a block from the use, and then turned loose ome long rious yell, and doubled for the with the news. said Tom, “isn’t that kid rty-four karats fine, though? acDuff. He’'ll be president of a bank w we're still footing col- umns. You see if he isn't.” “I always did ink that -boy had something in him,” said Harvey. “He sort of looked like it to me first time I saw him.” Topyright by S. S. “r McClure Company. L - I — A < B