The door of Van Orden’s room faced the main entrance to the bank. As he spoke the last word, his face grew still whiter if that were possible, and his lips had a purplish hue. I glanced over my shoulder to ascertain the reason. It was obvious. Colonel Whiteley was just entering the office door. “Good morning, colonel,” I exclaimed, with all the warmth of a long-time friend, for Van Orden’s benefit, and we shook hands vigorously, the colonel not being able to resist my energy without appearing unnecessarily rude. “Let me introduce you to my friend, Cashier Van Orden,” I added, with a wide sweep of my hands. “We’ve met,” said Whiteley; “haven’t we, Mr. Van Orden?” “Well, yes,” responded the cashier. Seeing that I was not likely to be arrested, but still in doubt as to the meaning of the meeting, Van Orden grew calmer and invited Colonel Whiteley to be seated. Then I proceeded to make things as uncomfortable for the cashier as I could. First I adroitly had Whiteley tell how he learned of my deposit, and how unnecessarily, through it, Van Orden had lost for me the seventy-five hundred. After grinding him with this sort of reminder, not forgetting to upbraid him for failing to tell me that my account in the bank had been tampered with, I demanded that he make a settlement at once. “I got that money,” said I, “through the sale of Union Pacific Bonds, and deposited it with this bank. Now, I shall hold you responsible. Colonel Whiteley, as a business man, doesn’t think that I’d take those ten-dollar greenbacks, knowing they had been stolen. Do you, Colonel?” “No, I don’t think you would,” agreed Whiteley. “Colonel Whiteley tells me that, of your own volition, you told him I was a depositor here and showed him the money I had placed in your care. Now you must make good to me.” I gave the cashier a look that made him fear I would inform certain superiors of his of a number of questionable money transactions, which, if made known, would ruin him, financially, professionally, and socially. But that I would not do. Van Orden was completely floored by the turn of circumstances. Though I knew his promises would be worthless, I could do nothing more than accept them. Colonel Whiteley left the bank presently, and I soon followed. I had had revenge, but it was dearly bought. Colonel Whiteley and I had met for the first time, though I had been in the line of getting something for nothing about four years. He went away believing me to be an honest man. As for him, I don’t know that he didn’t turn the nine hundred and fifty ten-dollar notes over to the Treasury Department. But I was to meet him again before many years, and under most unusual conditions. Of this meeting I shall be able to tell in another volume of my series of Bliss books.