“Oh, that wouldn’t do at all. You see, it wouldn’t be good form, in the first place, and then I don’t believe he’d see it, anyway. But Curtin is certainly no good. Why, he’d never heard of W. G. Pickering!” And Jack listened with what gravity he could command while Hillsmead repeated the recital with which he just favored the assistant cashier, until the joke about Smith--with the explanation--gave him excuse to laugh immoderately. Hillsmead was to Jack the one bright spot about the bank. Jervis Curtin was not exactly popular among the employees of Bagsbury and Company. No man of his invincible ignorance about banking, and in his highly salaried position, could be popular in any bank. But his good-humored manner saved him from being cordially hated, and made it possible for him to think that his associates liked him. As for his ignorance, that did not trouble him at all. The only thing that he did not entirely relish was his relation to Melville Sponley. Spying is at best not an occupation conducive to any great degree of self-satisfaction, and unsuccessful spying is still less gratifying to one’s pride. Months had passed since Curtin had entered the bank, and as yet he had been able to tell Sponley nothing of importance which the speculator had not already learned directly from John. But something important was going on now in the private office. “Yes,” John was saying; “we’d be very glad to open an account with you.” “I suppose you understand,” said Pickering, slowly, “that at one time or another I shall want to borrow a good deal of money.” John smiled. “That’s why I want your business,” he said. “Good loans are what I’m looking for. This bank’s in good shape. We’ll be able to take care of you without any trouble.” “There may be times,” the soap manufacturer went on, “when I shall want a big chunk of money in a hurry. Now, I believe in conservative banking; that’s why I’m coming to you. But I don’t want anything to do with the kind of conservatism that’ll leave me in the lurch without any warning the first time it comes to a pinch. That was the trouble over at the other place. They got scared and let go of me once in a rather tight place, after they’d told me that they’d see me through. The collateral I offered them was all right, but they’d lost their nerve. Stevenson was so scared he told me to go to hell. I came near going, too. I got out all right, but it was a close thing--a question of minutes.”