Of course Ferd immediately spied Dick there and sauntered over, with his
customary air of importance.
"Hello! Morrison, what are you doing here? I didn't you know you were a
depositor in our bank," he said, with a patronizing manner that at first
made Dick grit his teeth, and then caused him to smile as a sudden
suspicion flashed across into his mind.
"Oh! I drift in occasionally to drop a few hundred thousand for safe
keeping," he replied, in a spirit of irony.
"What _are_ you here for anyway?" demanded Ferd, eyeing the other with a
sneer.
"Just waiting for something at present."
"Oh! I see, your mother has probably been making arrangements to borrow
on her tied-up investments. It's hard lines, old fellow. Now, you ought
to do something in the way of business, instead of spending your time
fishing, as I hear you are doing. I expect to branch out that way
myself. My old man says my school days are over, because my report was
so very depressing this term. He believes I would make a splendid
banker; and he's just gone back to consult with Gibbs about starting me
in here."
"Oh!" was all Dick trusted himself to say.
Apparently that position formerly occupied by the departed Charles was
not going around begging for applicants; nor was the cashier the only
one who had his eye upon it.
"Of course I will have to begin low down so as to get a grasp upon the
details and technical points of the financial side of the business; but
I'm willing to learn.
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