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Updated: June 25, 2025
Adventure is the life of commerce, but caution, I had almost said timidity, is the life of banking; and I cannot imagine that the long series of great errors made by the Bank of England in the management of its reserve till after 1857, would have been possible if the merchants in the Bank court had not erroneously taken the same view of the Bank's business that they must properly take of their own mercantile business.
Not knowing whether to laugh or to be embarrassed at this extraordinary conclusion of the blunder, Randolph answered that he had just come from the bank, adding, with a pardonable touch of youthful pride, that he was entering the bank's employment the next day. Another equally agreeable surprise met him on his arrival there the next morning.
Now he blurted it out. "Am I to go into the Bank, father?" The old man blinked at his son over his spectacles, and then shoved back his chair. "What d'you want?" he asked. "I should like the Army, or to farm," replied the son. Mr. Silver put down his paper. It was some time before he answered. "The Bank's my life," he said at last. "You're my son. You may choose for yourself."
Chichester protested vehemently: "But we are NOT provided for." "No," added Alaric. "Our bank's bust." "We're ruined," sobbed Mrs. Chichester. "Broke!" said Alaric. "We've nothing!" wailed the old lady. "Not thruppence," from the son. "Dear, dear," said the lawyer. "How extremely painful." "PAINFUL? That's not the word. Disgustin' I call it," corrected Alaric. Mr. Hawkes thought a moment.
On both of these islands eruptions are known to have taken place; and in Albemarle we saw a small jet of smoke curling from the summit of one of the great craters. In the evening we anchored in Bank's Cove, in Albemarle Island. The next morning I went out walking.
That division of the bank's space was connected with the back room by a narrow passageway, now in deep darkness. Uncle Bushrod, firmly gripping his hickory stick, tiptoed gently up this passage until he could see the midnight intruder into the sacred precincts of the Weymouth Bank.
Come along," said Mr. Carrington. "At this hour? The bank's been closed this two hours," said Flexen. "He'll be there. It's years since he got away before seven," said Mr. Carrington confidently. He told a clerk to telephone to the bank that he was coming. They found a taxicab quickly, drove to the bank, entered it by the side door, and were taken straight to Mr. Harrison.
From that he judged that there would be enough to redeem his share of the farmers' mortgages, which in Hendricks' mind could be nothing but rent for the land, and to pay his share of the bank's fraudulent loans to the company and leave nothing more.
"Well, Dan'l, how's that new clerk o' yours gettin' on?" said Mrs. Bigby a week later. "Purty fine! He's good at accounts and hez got to know the Bank's customers by this time. But I allus reckoned he'd get stuck with some o' them counterfeit notes and he hez!
Cass took it, and you wasted a day of the bank's time covering the crime for him." "Cass took it?" asked Mortimer in a dazed way, looking from Crane to Allis. "Yes; he has confessed, so you see he's ahead of you in that line" He went on, speaking hurriedly: "I ask you to forgive me now for my suspicions. Your innocence is completely established.
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