When Egypt Went Broke | Page 7

bit late in getting it, but Mr. Britt promptly perceived that the
young man had not been hung up by stupidity or sloth. So he hired
Vaniman, finding him a strapping chap without foolish notions.
Vaniman was cashier, receiving teller, paying teller, swept out, tended
the furnace, and kept the books of the bank until Britt hired Vona
Harnden for that job. Vona had been teaching school to help out her
folks, in the prevailing Egyptian famine in finance.
But folks stopped paying taxes, and the town orders by the school
committee on the treasurer were not honored; therefore, Vona
gratefully took a place in the bank when Mr. Britt called her into his
office one day and offered the job to her. He said that the work was
getting to be too much for Frank. That consideration for hired help
impressed Miss Harnden and she smiled very sweetly indeed, and Mr.
Britt beamed back at her in a fashion that entirely disarranged for the

rest of the day the set look that he creased into his features before his
mirror every morning. Several clients took advantage of his blandness
and renewed notes without paying the premium that Britt exacted when
he loaned his own money as a private venture.
President Britt entered the door, but he did not go into the bank at once.
He marched along the corridor and unlocked his office and toasted
himself over the furnace register while he finished his cigar; Vaniman
was a good fireman and was always down early. Mr. Britt kept his ear
cocked; he knew well the tap of certain brisk boot heels that sounded in
the corridor every morning and he timed his movements accordingly.
By being on the alert for sounds, he heard what did not comport with
the comfort of his office. Prophet Elias was engaged in his regular
morning tour of duty, picketing T. Britt's domains, giving an hour to
deliverance of taunting texts before going abroad through the town on
his mission to the people with texts of comfort; the Prophet carried
plenty of penetrating, textual ammunition, but he carried poultices for
the spirit as well.
Mr. Britt heard: "'Will he esteem thy riches? No, not gold, nor all the
forces of strength.'"
The usurer commented under his breath with remarks that were not
scriptured. He threw away his cigar and went to a case where he kept
some law books which contained the statutes that were concerned with
money and debts and dependence; he had been hunting through the
legislative acts regarding vagrants and paupers and had been hoping to
light on some legal twist that would serve him. The Prophet kept on
proclaiming. But all at once he shifted from taunts about riches. His
voice was mellow with sincere feeling.
Said the Prophet: "'Behold, thou art fair, my love; thou hast doves' eyes
within thy locks. Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep which came up
from the washing. Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy speech is
comely. Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.'"
Mr. Britt did not wait in his office for the completion of the panegyric.

He knew well enough what arriving personage it heralded. He hurried
out into the corridor and faced the radiant girl who came in from the
sunshine. Even one who might question the Prophet's tact would not
have blamed his enthusiasm.
"Vona, you swear out a warrant and I'll have him arrested," stammered
the employer.
She checked a chirrup of laughter and her smile faded when she opened
her eyes on Britt's sourness.
"There's a law about hectoring and insulting a female person on the
street--some kind of a law--and we'll invoke it in this case," Britt
insisted.
"Why, Mr. Britt, he's only a harmless old man with extremely poor
judgment about most things, including a girl's looks," she protested.
"Don't you call that gabble an insult to you, walking along and minding
your own business?" His heat was alarming; he shook his fist to
indicate the Prophet.
She was unable to restrain her demure smile. "The specifications, sir,
are overflattering; but I'm sure I don't feel insulted."
In the past Britt had purred paternally in her presence and had stared at
her in a way that often disconcerted her. Now his expression alarmed
her. His face grew red. At first she thought he was embarrassed by the
reflection that he had been terming the Prophet's compliments an
insult--intimating that she had no claim to such compliments. But Mr.
Britt did not bother to deal with that phase of the matter. The flame was
shifted from his face to his eyes; his cheeks grew pale. He tried to put
his arm about her. She set her gloved hands