Wade knew about savings banks; and he liked the idea. Mr. Klucker conducted his young friend to such a bank, though it did not seem to be at “the rooms of our association.” A long string of depositors was at the window where the money was passed in; and they had to wait some time,--so long that Mr. Klucker’s patience was exhausted. CHAPTER XV. A NEW YORK SAINT. “Really, I can’t wait so long,” said the kind friend of Wade Brooks. “But I know the people in the bank; and, if you will give me the money, they will do the business at once.” This looked like a reasonable plan, and Wade felt quite willing to adopt it. “I haven’t twenty dollars left to put into the bank,” said he, taking the wallet from his pocket. “I must keep some to pay for what I want to eat.” “You can draw out what you want at any time, and you had better put in nearly all you have,” suggested Mr. Klucker. “I have twenty dollars, all but twenty cents; and I guess I’ll put in eighteen,” replied Wade. “Very well: it will be safe here, and you can get it when you want it,” said the missionary, in the most encouraging tones. Wade gave him the money; and he moved off to the other end of the banking-room, as though he were going behind the partition that separated the bank-officers from the public. Wade looked in at the window to see him, if he could; but he did not appear. The missionary seemed to be a long time doing the business, and getting his book; and Wade waited half an hour with what patience he had. All the people who had been in the line when he came into the room had done their business, and had gone, though their places were filled by others. Wade waited another half-hour; and then the attention of the cashier was directed to him as one who had waited a long time. Strange as it may seem, the country boy did not suspect any thing wrong; for one who had given all his money but ten cents to a poor sick woman, and who was employed by “our association” to look out for the sick and the stranger, could not steal his money. “What are you waiting for, young man?” called the cashier, from the window. “I am waiting for my book,” replied Wade. “What book was that?” “Mr. Klucker took my money in there about an hour ago.” “Who?” asked the cashier, beginning to take an interest in the matter. “Mr. Caleb Klucker. He said he knew you in there, and he would get a book for me without waiting so long,” answered Wade, who thought it a little odd that they did not know the name. “I don’t know any such person; and I am the only one that takes deposits,” replied the cashier. “How much money did you give him to take in here?” “Eighteen dollars, sir.” “Did any one come in here from the front?” asked the cashier, turning to the clerks in the office. No one had come in from the front, or from anywhere else. One of the assistants had seen a seedy-looking man pass out at the rear door, which was little used.