He was held accountable for all the laxity on the part of those under him, and the office force was habitually indifferent, as men are apt to be who feel there is nothing to be gained by zeal and conscientiousness. Scarcely a day passed that he did not smart beneath the weight of Haviland's displeasure, nor could he rid himself of the terrible and degrading fear he had of the man. He would stand in dogged silence—abject, bruised and shaken—whenever Haviland chose to break the ready vials of wrath upon him. Haviland was not always disagreeable, however; he had his genial moments when it was wise to enter heartily into the spirit of his peculiar humor. Norton's position was nominally at least, confidential. Once each year he made out a statement that found its way before the directors at their annual meeting. In preparing this statement it was necessary to go over the stocks, bonds and securities in the vaults with Haviland; then together they counted the cash in hand and John signed his name to the report, a formality having a certain significance in the mind of one of the directors at least, for he turned in his first statement unsigned, and had been called before the directors. Mr. Bliss, the largest individual stockholder in the company, had gravely interrogated him regarding the matter. The explanation was simple enough. Haviland had not told him to sign the statement. Upon learning this, Mr. Bliss had suggested that the managing director immediately inform the bookkeeper as to the exact nature of his duties. John was greatly impressed by the incident, so much so that afterward, when making out the annual statement, he was always troubled by an exaggerated sense of its importance. He had been with Bliss, Haviland and Company three years, when he made a little discovery. Haviland was speculating,—in direct violation of his agreement with the company. John had been in possession of this secret about five weeks when one morning he was summoned into the private office. He found Haviland looking rather disturbed. “We'll have to be getting at our annual report,” the managing director said. “Let me see,—this is the eighth of the month; I suppose you already have it well along.” “I've been at work on the books for the last two weeks.” “Make a full and complete showing, Norton.” “Yes, sir.” At eleven o'clock Haviland left the office hurriedly in response to a telephone message. Half an hour later a spruce-looking youth with a small paper parcel under his arm walked into the business office and inquired for him. John went over to the railing where he stood. “Mr. Haviland's out; can I do anything for you?” “I am from Brown and Kemper,” mentioning a well-known firm of brokers. “I want to leave these bonds for Mr. Haviland.” He untied the parcel as he spoke. “Will you take their numbers and give me a receipt?”