Well, briefly, I went to the Sinclair House a few evenings later and met John Taylor, the appointment having been arranged by English George. I measured the young man’s caliber immediately, and felt satisfied that he’d be a good investment; in other words, would be the sort of stuff out of which I could make a “right” bank clerk. In order that I might become better acquainted with him at once, I placed three thousand dollars’ worth of bonds in his care for the market. He made a good sale, and I paid him fifteen per cent for his pains. Finding that he was a safe one to deal with, in fact, a man who wouldn’t get a “swelled head” over success, I gave him other opportunities to sell bonds, and finally I came down to the more important subject. I must confess that I was considerably astonished over the readiness with which he met my proposition. It was more than halfway; indeed, he was overanxious to barter his honor and integrity in any reasonable scheme in which there was an ordinary element of safety and a money return commensurate with the risk that would be taken. I will quote his own words as correctly as I can: “I am anxious to make a stake large enough to admit of resigning my position in the Ocean Bank and go West, where I can start in business for myself.” Having reached such a plain understanding, it was not long before Taylor proposed a second attempt to steal the little tin box of securities which the Englishmen failed to get. “As a matter of fact,” Taylor told me, “the securities are daily left in the same lax manner they were before that lunkhead of an Englishman fell over the chair.” “One would think the Ocean Bank folks would be more cautious after so close a call,” I suggested. “True; but they’re not. I think the box could be carried away easily if the right sort of a man went after it,” said Taylor, with great conviction. But I had my mind set on bigger results, and so I reminded him of our talk about tackling larger game, though at the time I had not hinted, in any way, what I expected him to do. I hadn’t told him I had my eye on the Ocean Bank. “Why not get in the vault of your bank?” said I, and intently watched his face for the effect. I staggered him! His face, usually pale, fairly blanched at the mention of the proposition. Presently he gasped, “It’s a physical impossibility!” “By no means,” declared I, smiling at my flat contradiction. Still Taylor was sceptical. “I don’t believe it! You can’t open it! It’s a bang-up burglar-proof vault, and so much so, by the eternal, that many of our wisest customers leave their strong boxes in it,” he cried. “Nevertheless,” I persisted, benignly disregarding his earnestness, “the combination lock can be picked, and I can do it! Once inside the vault, the rest is only a question of time and perseverance!”