Mrs. Barnett's eyes met his defiantly, but her mouth quivered a little nervously. A doubt flashed through his mind. Was she authorized to do this? Surely she would not dare take such authority without her uncle's consent. He might telephone, anyway, then a more direct resolution followed swiftly. He turned away from Mrs. Barnett and went to the cashier's window. "Did Jim Crill deposit $25,000 here subject to my check?" he asked. "He did," replied the cashier. "Are there any strings to it?" "None," responded the cashier promptly. Without so much as glancing toward the widow, who had watched this move with a venomous suspicion, Bob went to Miss Chandler by the desk and took the papers from his pocket, and laid them before her. "Indorse the compress receipts over to Mr. Crill." Then he wrote two checks--one to the bank for $3,123 to pay off all the claims against the Chandler cotton and one to Imogene for $1,377. "You don't know, Mr. Rogeen," she started to say in a low, tense voice as she took the check, "how much----" "I don't need to," he smilingly interrupted her gratitude, "for it isn't my money. I'll see you at lunch; and then take you back home in my car." He lifted his hat and turned back to the counter where Mrs. Barnett stood loftily, disdainfully, yet furiously angry. "Well," said Bob, casually, "I've made one loan, anyway." "It will be your last." Mrs. Barnett clutched her hands vindictively. "You'll be discharged as quick as I get to Uncle Jim." Bob really expected he would, but not for three jobs would he have recalled that loan and the light of relief in Imogene Chandler's eyes. CHAPTER XVI Mrs. Barnett went direct from the bank to Reedy Jenkins' office. As she climbed the outside stairway she was so angry she forgot to watch to see that her skirts did not lift above her shoe tops. As she entered the door her head was held as high and stiff as though she had been insulted by a disobedient cook. White showed around her mouth and the base of her nose, and her nostrils were dilated. "Why, Mrs. Barnett!" Reedy arose with an oratorical gesture. "What a pleasant surprise. Have a chair." She took the chair he placed for her without a word and her right hand clutched the wrist of the left. She was breathing audibly. "Did you see Rogeen?" Jenkins suggested suavely. "Yes." The tone indicated that total annihilation should be the end of that unworthy creature. But her revenge, like Reedy's expectations, was in the future. She hated to confess this. She breathed hard twice. "And I'll show him whose word counts." "You don't mean," Reedy swiped his left hand roughly at the wisp of hair on his forehead, "that he disregarded your wishes?" "He certainly did." Indignation was getting the better of her voice. "The low-lived--the contemptible--common person. And he insulted me with that--that creature."