Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 7, 1922 — page 50: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

196 ness infants, do you? Did Mr. Frye get his five thousand?” “T heard he got it over at the Sands County Trust. He checked out his balance from our books in their favor. Maybe Ed French thought a nice, active account like that was worth taking a chance for. And you know Bill Frye is a persuasive duck; what he can’t do with figures I guess hardly any one could do.” “T know; but what his wife can do with hats is quite another story.” “TI wish Joey had your brains,” sighed old Joe. | “No, you don’t, father; you wish he had a little more of my kind of brains. How much has Ed French increased the deposits over at the Sands County?” “ Half a million.” “Catching up with us pretty fast, old dear?” ‘“T didn’t say that. In fact, I don’t think they’re making what you'd call real giant strides; we put on nearly seven hundred thousand, what with the new cotton mills and the print works. But Ed was going to cut a lot of ice out in the highways and byways--what he calls the rural district— and dared if I don’t think he and that sky-blue-pink runabout of his have made an impression on the bucolic mind. Of course it’s a little mite early to tell; pretty soon the apple and wheat and oat crops will have to be taken care of, and labor’s away up, when you can get any—vwell, I don’t see’s we’re going to have more’n our share.” ‘“‘There’s a lot of demand for call money at higher rates in the city,” hazarded Beth. “What do you know about— Say, you be’n reading the papers, I guess. Now lemme tell you something; this bank is fifteen years old, and in all that time I kep’ one thing in mind—Templeton first. I know, when we got a surplus we could ship a barrel or so to New York and get eight or nine per cent for it, but you think I would? “Not to any large extent! Maybe the Sands County ’ll go out and show some of these rubes a thing or two about modern bankin’, but you can bet your life when the local fellers want the old dough at six per cent to pay their help, it’s goin’ to be right here for ’em, and don’t you forget—”’ ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Old Joe Benson suddenly found speech inhibited by a human avalanche precipitated upon him from across the room. “Dad!” said the avalanche. ‘I knew it all the time. You and I don’t have to go to New York for our clothes, do we? And there’s something in banking besides mak- ing a lot of money, isn’t ‘there? And fifteen years of serving the public do count for something, don’t they? You don’t blame me for going out and inviting a few old benighted sisters to come and see what a jim-dandy bank we’ve got, and you don’t turn your nose up at a daily balance of a hundred and two dollars and forty-seven cents—now do you? ‘“‘ And if I put in a bill for thirteen gal- lons of gasoline that I’ve used running around the country, you’re going to O. K. it just like a lamb, aren’t you? I knew you would—I told Garvin you would, and he laughed at me and wanted to know when the next meeting of the sewing circle was to be held—darn him; I suppose he’s a great - banker.”’ ““Garv? Oh, Garvin’s all right; only sometimes I think he’s a little narrow be- tween the eyes, that’s all.” CHAPTER VI. HEZ HAS A PAIN. EZEKIAH SWIFT, with blood in his H eye, invaded the solemn precincts of Benson’s Bank and demanded audi- ence with the president of that institution. “ Hello, Hez,” said old Joe. ‘ Come in and set.” Old Joe’s desk was well out in front, separated from the concourse by a stout fence ‘of solid oak. Hez pushed open the gate and slammed it behind him with un- necessary violence. “¢ Joe,” he said, “I want fifteen hundred dollars, and I want it blame sudden.” “You mean, you want it with a consider- able degree of precipitation,” corrected old Joe calmly. ‘“‘T want it in cash,” said Hezekiah Swift. “Busby,” roared’ old Joe. ‘‘ Count out fifteen hundred dol—you didn’t say how you wanted it, Hez.”’ comiclbooolx C©