When Martin Landis entered the bank early in the afternoon of that same

day he presented a different appearance from that of his departure in

the morning. His head was held erect, his step determined, as he opened

the swinging door of the bank and entered.

"What--Landis, you back?" Mr. Buehlor greeted him, while the quizzical

eyes of the old man looked into those of the younger.

"I'm back and I'm back to get this hideous riddle solved and the slate

washed clean."

"Come in, come in!" Mr. Buehlor drew him into a little room and closed

the door. "Sit down, Landis."

"Well, how much is the bank short?" He looked straight into the eyes of

the man who, several hours before, had dealt him such a death-blow.

"So far everything is right, right as rain! There's a mistake or a

damnable dirty trick somewhere."

"Let's sift it out, Mr. Buehlor. Will you tell me who had the 'inside

information' that I was taking bank's money?"

"I'll tell you! It was a farmer near your home---"

"Mr. Mertzheimer?" offered Martin.

"The same! He asked to have you watched, then changed it and insisted

on having the books examined. Said your people are poor--forgive me,

Landis, but I have to tell you the whole story."

"Don't mind that. That's a mere scratch after what I got this morning."

"Well, he said your father had a mortgage on his farm up to the time

you came to work in the bank, then suddenly it was paid and soon after

the house was painted, a new bathroom installed, electric lights put

into the house and steam heat, a Victrola and an automobile bought. In

fact, your people launched out as though they had found a gold mine,

and that in spite of the fact that your crop of tobacco was ruined by

hail and the other income from the farm products barely enough to keep

things going until another harvest. He naturally thought you must have

a hand in supplying the money and with your moderate salary you

couldn't do half of that. He talked with several of the bank directors

and an investigation was ordered. You'll admit his story sounded

plausible. It looked pretty black for you."

"To you, yes! But not to him! Mr. Mertzheimer knows well enough where

that money came from. My father had a legacy of ten thousand dollars

this spring. You people could have found that out with very little

trouble."




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