The result was not very encouraging.
In nearly every instance he was greeted with a negative shake of the
head, and the information that since the dull summer season was at hand,
instead of taking on more help the chances were there would be less
required.
When he came to the substantial stone building in which the bank of
Harvey Gibbs had its quarters, he hesitated, and heaved a sigh, for it
seemed folly to think of venturing in there, much as he yearned to go.
And as he stood taking a longing look through the fine plate glass
windows where he could see several men at work on the books, and the
cashier just getting ready to wait on the first customer of the morning,
who should come tripping along the street but consequential Charles
Doty, the boy who ran messages for the bank, and made himself generally
useful between times, looking toward the time when he was to be elevated
to the president's chair, as he often whimsically declared.
Charles was prone to indulge in early morning naps, and there were times
when he could be seen sneaking into the bank long after he was supposed
to be at work. Still, he could stir himself when the necessity arose,
and thus far had managed to hold his position.
At sight of Dick looking so longingly into the bank he was brought to a
sudden halt, and something like suspicion flashed into his eyes.
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