They all knew the old man was aching to tell something, but they didn't purpose to gratify him by any questions. The rain dripped from the awning in front, and fell upon the roof of the storeroom at the back with a soft and steady roar. "Good f'r the corn," McPhail said, after a long pause. "Purty cold, though." Gilbert was tranquil--he had a shot in reserve. "Sam's wife said his wife said he was thinkin' some of goin' into a bank here--" "A bank!" "What in thunder--" Vance turned, with a comical look on his long, placid face, one hand stroking his beard. "Well, now, gents, I'll tell you what's the matter with this town. It needs a bank. Yes, sir! I need a bank." "You?" "Yes, me. I didn't know just what did ail me, but I do now. It's the need of a bank that keeps me down." "Well, you fellers can talk an' laugh, but I tell yeh they's a boom goin' to strike this town. It's got to come. W'y, just look at Lumberville!" "Their boom is our bu'st," was McPhail's comment. "I don't think so," said Sanford, who had entered in time to hear these last two speeches. They all looked at him with deep interest. He was a smallish man. He wore a derby hat and a neat suit. "I've looked things over pretty close--a man don't like to invest his capital" (here the rest looked at one another) "till he does; and I believe there's an opening for a bank." As he dwelt upon the scheme from day to day, the citizens warmed to him, and he became "Jim" Sanford. He hired a little cottage, and went to housekeeping at once; but the entire summer went by before he made his decision to settle. In fact, it was in the last week of August that the little paper announced it in the usual style: Mr. James G. Sanford, popularly known as "Jim," has decided to open an exchange bank for the convenience of our citizens, who have hitherto been forced to transact business in Lumberville. The thanks of the town are due Mr. Sanford, who comes well recommended from Massachusetts and from Milwaukee, and, better still, with a bag of ducats. Mr. S. will be well patronized. Success, Jim! The bank was open by the time the corn-crop and the hogs were being marketed, and money was received on deposit while the carpenters were still at work on the building. Everybody knew now that he was as solid as oak. He had taken into the bank, as bookkeeper, Lincoln Bingham, one of McPhail's multitudinous nephews; and this was a capital move. Everybody knew Link, and knew he was a McPhail, which meant that he "could be tied to in all kinds o' weather." Of course the McPhails, McIlvaines, and the rest of the Scotch contingency "banked on Link." As old Andrew McPhail put it: "Link's there, an' he knows the bank an' books, an' just how things stand"; and so when he sold his hogs he put the whole sum--over fifteen hundred dollars--into the bank. The McIlvaines and the Binghams did the same, and the bank was at once firmly established among the farmers.