If ever a mother's prayers and good wishes went out after her boy those
of Mrs. Morrison followed him as he strode manfully along, with his head
held erect and the light of determination in his eyes.
When he drew near the bank he swerved and passed along, but not from
timidity; it lacked seven minutes of the time Mr. Gibbs had set, and
Dick had learned that a busy man is often almost as much annoyed by a
premature caller as by one who keeps him waiting.
So the town clock was just striking the half hour when he walked into
the bank.
Dick had been inside the place more than once, on some errand for his
mother; but it had never looked just as it did on this morning, when he
surveyed it as the possible field of his future industries.
He went over to the teller's window.
"Good morning, Mr. Winslow, can I see Mr. Gibbs?" he asked.
The receiving teller glanced quickly up, for when any one asked to see
the president personally it usually meant particular business.
To his surprise the speaker was only a boy; and as he recognized Dick he
shook his head a little dubiously in the negative.
"Mr. Gibbs is a busy man, generally, and unless you have some very
important business with him I hardly think he could see you," he
replied.
"But my business is important, to me anyway. I have come to see him
about a position here," said Dick, calmly.
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