Chapter 17 17. Friends of San Rosario

Chapter One At 8:20 in the morning, the westbound train stopped at San Rosario on time.A man with a bulging black briefcase got off the train and walked quickly to the main street of the town.He wasn't the only passenger who disembarked at San Rosario, but they lolled into the railroad mess hall, or the Silver Dollar Hotel, or mingled with the crowds of idlers at the station. The man with the black briefcase didn't hesitate in his demeanor.He was short, but stocky, with light-colored hair cropped close, a decidedly shaven face, and forbidding gold-rimmed spectacles stuck to his nose.His bearing represented, if not real power, at least a serene and confident underlying power.

After walking three blocks, he came to the commercial center of the town.Here, another lively street intersects the main street, forming the heart of life and commerce in San Rosario.On one corner is the post office.On the other corner is the Rubinski Clothing Company.On the other two opposite corners are the town's two banks, the First National Bank and the National Livestock Bank.The new guy walks into the First National Bank of San Rosario.He walked briskly until he walked to the assistant's window.The bank doesn't open until nine o'clock, but the staff are all here, each doing his own department's preparations.As the assistant was leafing through the letters, he noticed the stranger standing at his window.

Banks open at nine o'clock.He said it carelessly.He often had to say that to some early customers since San Rosario was open during city bank hours. I am certain.The other party said, in a cold and crisp tone, please take a look at my business card. The assistant took the spotless little card into the window, and what he saw was: National Bank Audit Jie.F.West.nettlewick Oh uh please come inside, uh Mr. Nettlewick.Of course you don't know your identity when you come here for the first time.please come in. The auditor quickly entered the sacred area of ​​the bank, and the assistant Mr. Edlinger, a cautious and shrewd middle-aged man, nagged and introduced him to every employee of the bank.

I thought Sam these days.Turner will come again.Mr Edlinger said Sam had been visiting us for nearly four years.Although the market is relatively tight, I think you will find that we are normal here.We don't have much money, but we can weather the storm, sir, weather the storm. Mr. Turner and I, on instructions from the Auditor, exchanged audit areas.Said the inspector firmly and solemnly, he inspected my former area of ​​Southern Illinois and Indiana.I'll check the cash first.please. Cashier Perry.Dorsey had already laid the cash on the counter to be checked by the auditor.He knew that a penny was not bad, and he had nothing to be afraid of, but he was still nervous.Everyone in the bank is like this.The man was so cold and quick, so indifferent and intransigent that his presence seemed to represent accusation.He seems to be someone who never makes a mistake and never lets it go.

Mr. Nettlewick took the notes first, and counted the bundles with a swift, almost juggling touch.Then he turned the sponge disc in front of him, wet his fingers, and counted one by one.His thin, white fingers danced like a musician playing a piano.He dumped the gold coins onto the counter with a clatter, and the gold coins jingled as they slid across the marble countertop with his nimble fingertips.When he counted fifty cents and quarters, the air was filled with the sound of coins.He even counted dimes and nickels.He also carried a spring scale with him, and weighed every bag of silver coins in the vault.He asked Dorsey about every cash account. Although the checks and subpoenas transferred from the previous day's business were very polite, his rigid attitude seemed extremely mysterious and remarkable, which made the cashier flushed and stammered. Can't say enough.

The new auditor and Sam.Turner was very different.Sam always greeted everyone loudly when he entered the bank, offered cigars, and told everyone the news he had heard on the way.He always said this to Dorsey: Hey, Perry!I dare say you haven't escaped yet.The way Turner checks the cash is also different.He just fumbled impatiently at bundles of bills, then went to the safe, kicked a few bags of silver coins, and it was over.Fifties, quarters, and dimes?Sam.Turner doesn't count, don't give me the chicken food, he'll say that when they bring the coins up to him, I don't work in the Department of Agriculture.But Turner is a native of Texas, an old friend of the bank's general manager, and has known Dorsey since childhood.

When the auditor was counting the cash, the general manager of the First National Bank Thomas.Skin.Major Kingman and the others called Major Tom to the side door in a buggy drawn by a brown horse and came in.Seeing the auditor busy counting the money, he walked over to the fenced desk he called the pony pen and began to look through the letters. Earlier, a small incident occurred in the bank, which even the sharp-eyed auditor did not notice.As he began working at the cash counter, Mr. Edlinger greeted the young messenger Roy.Wilson winked and nodded slightly toward the front door.Roy understood, picked up his hat, put the collection book under his arm, and went out in a calm manner.Once out the door, he turned around and walked towards the National Livestock Bank.That bank is also ready and open for business.But no customers have come yet.

Hello, everyone!Roy knew them very well, and shouted without any scruples, get ready.There's a new auditor at the First National Bank, and he's a great guy.He counted all of Perry's tokens, and everyone was confused by him.Edlinger called me to let you know. Mr Buckley, general manager of the National Livestock Bank, a stocky, elderly man who looked like a farmer in his church clothes, heard Roy in the small back office and called him in. Did Major Kingman go to the bank?he asked Roy. Go, sir, his carriage just arrived when I came out.Roy said. I ask you to bring him a note.Hand it over to him as soon as you get back.

Mr Buckley sat down to write a note. Chapter two Roy returned and handed the envelope containing the note to Major Kingman.After reading it, the major folded the note and stuffed it into his vest pocket.He leaned back in his chair for a moment, as if in deep thought, then got up and went into the vault.He came out with a bulging, old-fashioned leather-bound receipt holder with the words Discounted Receipts stamped in gold.It hides bank notes receivable and collateral collateral.The major dumped it all on the table roughly, and began to clean it up. By this time, Natwilk had finished counting the cash.His pencil flew like a swallow over a counting sheet.He opened a black wallet that seemed to be a secret notebook, quickly wrote a few words on it, turned around, and looked at Dorsey with those sparkling glasses, and the wink behind the lens seemed to say: You didn't something went wrong, but

Cash is all in line.Audit simply put.After all, he went to the bookkeeper of the personal deposit account. A few minutes later, the account pages rattled, and the debit and loan comparison table flew everywhere. How often do you close a passbook?he asked suddenly. Uh once a month.The personal account bookkeeper stammered that he didn't know how many years he would be sentenced. good.The auditor said, and turned to look for the bookkeeper of ordinary depositors. He had already prepared the statement and statement of the bank in other places.Everything is fine.Then came the stub of the deposit book.Shua Shua turned around for a while.good.Please bring me the list of overdrafts.thanks.Hmph.No signed bill.good.

Then it was the assistant's turn, and the normally laid-back Mr. Edlinger was rubbing his nose and glasses anxiously under his barrage of questions about turnover, undivided dividends, bank real estate, and equity. Nettlewick suddenly became aware of a tall man standing beside him, a rugged, hale old man over sixty, with a matted gray beard and hair, and piercing blue eyes Don't flinch. Uh, this is Major Kingman, our general manager, and this is Mr. Nettlewick.Assistant said. Two very different types shook hands.One is the standard product of the rigid, conventional, business-like world; the other is more free and unrestrained, closer to nature.Tom.Kingman was not in any way affected by the custom.He was a mule driver, herdsman, rancher, soldier, police officer, gold prospector and cattle dealer.Now that he has become the general manager of the bank, those old partners who herd cattle on the grassland find that he has not changed.At the height of the Texas cattle business, he made his fortune opening the First National Bank in San Rosario.In spite of his good-natured, sometimes unsavvy generosity to old friends, the banking business thrived, because Tom.Major Kingman knew people as well as cattle.The cattle business had been weak of late, and the major's bank was one of the few that had not lost much. Well, the auditor took out his pocket watch and said energetically that the last thing to check is the loan.Let's see now, sorry. He inspected the First National Bank in almost record speed but as thoroughly as he did any job.The orderly routine of the bank made his work easier.There is only one other bank left in town.For every bank he checks, he gets twenty-five dollars from the government.He can settle those loans and discounts in half an hour.Then he could immediately check another bank and catch the 11:45 train to where he was going to work, the only train that day.Otherwise, he would have to spend a night and a Sunday in this dreary western town.Mr. Nettlewick, therefore, wanted to make haste. Come with me, sir, said Major Kingman, his deep voice mixed with southern drawls and western rhythmic twangs: let's see.Nobody in the bank knows those notes better than I do.Some were still standing still, and some had no brand on their backs, but most of them were reliable when hunting. The two of them sat down at the general manager's table.The auditor first flipped through the bills at lightning speed, added the total, and found that it completely matched the loan figure on the daily sheet.Then he singled out a few larger loans and inquired carefully about the guarantors and collateral.The mind of the new examiner is like a purebred hound following a trail, constantly chasing and searching, and often pounces on it unexpectedly.In the end, he pushed aside the bills, picked out a few, and placed them neatly in front of him, saying some dry and boring words solemnly. Sir, although the cattle business in your state is weak and declining, I find that your bank is doing very well.The accounting work seems to be done accurately and timely.There are very few overdue payments, and even if there are bad debts, the loss is not large.I suggest that you take back a large loan, and the loan term should not exceed 60 or 90 days in the future, or you can take short-term loans, which can be taken back at any time, and you can wait until the general market improves.Now there is one more thing, after solving it my inspection is over.Here are six bills totaling 40,000 yuan.According to the above description, they have securities, bonds, stocks, etc. worth 70,000 yuan as security.These collaterals should have been attached to the bill, but they were not.I think you probably have them stored in a vault or safe.Allow me to check it out. Major Tom's pale blue eyes turned fearlessly to the examiner. No, sir, he said, in a low but firm voice, the collateral is not in the vault or in the safe.I took it.They are not there, and the matter is entirely my own responsibility. Nettlewick was a little taken aback.He hadn't expected this to happen.Near the end of the hunt, he found an important clue. ah!Auditor said.He paused and added: May I ask you to be more specific? The collateral is mine.Not for my own use, the major repeated, but for the relief of a friend in difficulty.Come inside, sir, and we'll talk. He let the auditor into the small office behind the business room and closed the door.Inside were a writing desk, a table, and six leather-covered chairs.On the wall hung the head of a flayed Texas deer, five feet wide between the tips of the two antlers.On the wall opposite the stag's head hung the major's saber that had been used at Shiloh and Port Bilu. [Note] Shiloh and Port Bilu: both were battlefields during the American Civil War. The major fetched a chair for Nettlewick, and sat himself in front of the window, which overlooked the carved limestone front of the Post Office and the National Stock Bank.He didn't speak right away, and Natwilk thought perhaps a cold formal warning should break the cold stalemate. What you just said, he said, since there is nothing to add, you must understand that this will cause very serious consequences.You must also understand what my duty will compel me to do.I had to report to the federal comptroller I understand, I understand.Major Tom waved his hand and said, I run a bank and don't know about the National Bank Act and its amendments!Do your duty.I am not begging you.But I'm going to talk about my friend.I want you to hear me talk about Bob. Nettlewick settled down in his chair.He couldn't leave San Rosario that day.He would have to wire to the Comptroller of the Currency; he would have to ask the Federal Comptroller to arrest Major Kingman; he might also be ordered to close the bank because of the missing collateral.This is not the first time that the audit has uncovered violations of law and discipline before.There was a terrible emotional turmoil among the people as he investigated.Once or twice his businesslike serenity was almost shaken.He had seen bankers kneel like women begging for a mistake, begging him to give them a chance, to give them an hour's grace.One person in charge once shot himself in his seat in front of him.No one is as comfortable with it as this no-nonsense western.Nettlewick should at least hear what he has to say.The inspector rested his elbows on the arm of the chair and his chin with his right hand, waiting to hear the confession from the general manager of the First National Bank of San Rosario. You've been friends with a man for forty years, Major Tom began, almost didactically, that when you can do him a little favour, when you can do him a little favor, you're naturally willing to do it. (Misappropriating 70,000 yuan in collateral for him. The auditor thought.) Bob and I were cattlemen together, the major went on, speaking slowly, carefully, and thoughtfully, as if his concern was not with the present moment but with the past, and we were together in Arizona, New Mexico, and Most of California has been explored for gold and silver.We fought together in the Civil War of 1861, only in different units.Together we fought Indians and horse thieves; we starved together for weeks in our cabin in the Arizona mountains, buried under twenty feet of snow; Hey, we've had some rough times since Bob and I met at Branding Camp at Anchor Ranch.At that time, we discovered more than once that we must help each other in trouble.At that time, friends must be faithful, not to get any benefits.Maybe you need him to back you up the next day, to help you fight off a bunch of natives, or to tie a hemostat to your rattlesnake-bitten leg and mount your horse to find whiskey.Well, at the end of the day, there is a back and forth.If you don't treat your friend with sincerity, you will feel ashamed yourself when you need him.Bob was much more than that for his friends.His kindness is beyond words. Twenty years ago, I was sheriff in this county, and I asked Bob to be the officer.That was before the cattle business was booming, and we were not yet rich.I was both a sheriff and a tax collector, and I thought it was a big deal at the time.I am married and have two children aged four and six, a boy and a girl.There is a very comfortable house next door to the county government, which the county provided for me to live in for free, and I gradually saved some money.Most of the clerical work is done by Bob.We had both been through many hardships and dangers, and it was a happy time.It's raining outside the window at night, the wind is howling, and you're warm and safe inside, knowing that tomorrow morning you can get up safe and sound, shave, and be called sir.My wife and children are the best on the ranch, and I enjoy prosperity and peace with old friends, and I think I am happy.Yes, I was happy then. The major sighed, and glanced out the window intentionally or unintentionally.The inspector changed his posture, resting his chin on the other hand. One winter, the major went on, the county tax bills were flooding in, and for a week I had no time to go to the bank to save money.I just stuffed the check in a cigar case and put the cash in a bag and locked it in the big safe in the sheriff's office. That week, I was overworked and nearly fell ill.My nerves are not normal, and I cannot rest at night.The doctor has a scientific name for this disease, and he gave me some medicine.That’s not counting, I have been thinking about the money in my heart, and I can’t wipe it away when I sleep.In fact, there is nothing to worry about, because the safe is very strong, and only Bob and I know the combination to open the lock.On Friday night, the cash in the bag was about $6,500.On Saturday morning, I went to work as usual.The safe was still locked, and Bob was writing at his desk.I opened the safe and found that the money inside was gone.I immediately opened up about the theft to Bob and everyone in the facility.It was strange to me that it affected Bob as much as it affected me, and yet Bob seemed indifferent. Two days later, we still have no clue.It cannot be stolen by a foreign thief, because the safe is normally opened according to the password.Someone must be gossiping.For one afternoon Alice, that was my wife's name, came in with boys and girls, and she stamped her feet, her eyes blazing, and shouted: Those red-mouthed fellows Tom, Tom!She passed out.I held her and called to her.She woke up slowly, hung her head, and began to cry.Since she and Tom.This was the first time Kingman cried since he got married.The two boys, Jack and Zilla, who were always naughty as tiger cubs and would scramble on top of Bob whenever they were let into the office, stood awkwardly, like frightened partridges. crowded together.They are also encountering the dark side of life for the first time.Bob was writing on the table, he stood up and walked out without a word.Meanwhile, the grand jury was in session, and Bob went to them the next morning and confessed that he had stolen the money.He said he lost the money in a bet.Fifteen minutes later they found him guilty and sent me a warrant to arrest this man who had been with me for years and was closer than a brother. I did.Then I said to Bob, this is my home, here is my office, Maine is to the east, California is to the west, and Florida is to the south. You can move around before the court.You are under my care, and I will be in charge.You will come when you are needed. Thanks, Tom, he said nonchalantly, I wished you hadn't locked me up.The court is next Monday, and if you don't object, I'd like to stay in office until then.If that's not too much, I have one more request.I would be glad if you let the children come and play in the yard from time to time. Why not?I replied that they could come, and so could you.You can still come to my house as usual.You understand, Mr. Nettlewick, that you can't take a thief as a friend, and suddenly you don't take a friend as a thief. The audit did not respond.Then there was the shrill whistle of the incoming train, the narrow-gauge train from the south to San Rosario, arriving on time at ten-thirty-five.The Major went on to say: Bob was still in the office, reading the newspaper and smoking.I sent another officer in his place.After a while, the initial sensation caused by the case gradually died away. One day, when it was just the two of us in the office, Bob approached where I was sitting.His face was sullen and blue, too, when he kept watch over the Indians or drove the cattle all night. Tom, he says, it's harder than alerting the red man; harder than lying in the desert forty miles from the water; but I'm still ready to see it through.You know my temper is like this.If you give me a little hint and just say, Bob, I get it, it'll make it easier for me. I'm surprised, I don't understand you, Bob.I said, sure, you know I'd do anything to help you if I could.But I don't understand what you mean. All right, Tom.After saying this, he returned to his seat, lit a cigar, and read the newspaper. It was the night before the court session that I figured out what he meant.When I went to bed that night, I had the same dizzy and uneasy feeling from before.I didn't fall asleep until around midnight.When I woke up, I found myself standing in the hallway of my office, half dressed.Bob held one of my arms, our family doctor held the other, and Alice shook me, almost crying.She didn't tell me, so she went to ask for a doctor. When the doctor came, she found me out of bed and disappeared, so they looked everywhere. Sleepwalking.The doctor said. When we all got home, the doctor told us many stories about sleepwalking patients doing strange things.I went out once and felt very cold. At this time, my wife was not in the house, so I opened the door of an old wardrobe and pulled out a big quilt I had never seen before.The bag of money was dragged out with the quilt, and Bob was to be tried and sentenced the next morning for stealing it. How did the bag of money come here?I cried out, and those present must have seen how surprised I was.Bob suddenly realized. You old bastard, he said, regaining your former air, I saw you put it in there.I saw you open the safe and take it out, so I followed you.I saw you hiding it in the closet from the window. That goddamn lop-eared, sheep-headed mountain dog, why do you say you took it? Because, Bob puts it simply, I didn't know you were asleep. I watched him glance over to the room where Jack and Zilla were staying, and I understood what it meant to be friends from Bob's point of view. Major Tom stopped and glanced out of the window again.He saw someone in the National Livestock Bank draw down the yellow curtains, completely covering the large glass windows in front, although the sun was not shining at this time, and there was no need to draw the curtains to block the sunlight. Nettlewick sat upright in his chair.Although he was not interested, he still listened to the major's story tirelessly.He felt that this story had nothing to do with the current situation, let alone have any influence on this matter.These Westerners, he thought, were too sentimental and had no business acumen.They should really be wary of their friends.The major had evidently finished his speech.What he said didn't solve the problem. May I ask, said the auditor, if you have anything directly to say about these stolen collaterals? Stolen collateral, sir!What do you mean, sir, Major Tom turned suddenly in his chair, his blue eyes staring at the inspector? From his coat pocket he took a sheaf of papers bound like a leather band, flung them into Nettlewick's hands, and stood up. Here's the collateral, sir, every bond, bond, and stock.When you count the cash, I draw it from the bill.Please check it. The major led the way back to the bank office.The inspector followed him, a little surprised, confused and annoyed, not knowing what to do.He felt that he had been duped, although he could not be said to have been deceived, but he seemed to have been tricked and used, and then kicked away, but he himself was baffled.Perhaps his official position was also fooled by a lack of respect.But he couldn't catch it.It would be a joke to make a formal report on this matter.And, somehow, he felt that if he didn't understand it now, he would never understand it again. Nettlewick examined the collateral coolly and mechanically, and found them to be in perfect conformity with the bill.He picked up the black briefcase and got up to say goodbye. I'll say, he looked at Major Kingman angrily and said, whether you're serious or joking, your misleading statement doesn't correspond to the facts, and you don't explain it.I don't understand your motives and actions. Major Tom looked at him calmly and kindly. Boy, he said, there are many things in the woods and prairies and valleys of the West that you don't understand.But I must thank you for taking the trouble to listen to the dull story of a nagging old man.We old Texans have always liked to talk about our experiences and our old friends.People at home immediately tried to get away when they heard us talking about the past; so we could only chat with the guests who came to visit us. The major smiled, the auditor just bowed coldly, and walked out of the bank without looking back.They saw him cross the road to the State Livestock Bank diagonally across. third chapter Major Tom sat down at his desk, and took out the note that Roy had just handed him from his vest pocket.He had seen it once, but in a hurry.Now with a twinkle in his eye, he read it again.The note reads: Dear Tom: I hear there's one of Uncle Sam's hounds looking at your accounts, which means it might come to us in an hour or two.I want you to do me a favor.We only have 2,200 yuan in cash in the bank, but we have 20,000 yuan required on the account.Yesterday evening I lent Ross and Fisher eighteen thousand dollars to buy Gibson's cattle.That batch of cows will surely sell for 40,000 yuan within a month, but according to the bank audit, my cash situation on hand will not improve because of it.I couldn't show him the IOUs because they were just plain notes without any collateral.you know pinkRoss and Jim.Fisher is two of the best guys in the world, and they're solid.You always remember Jim.Fisher, he's the guy who shot the owner of the Faro Casino in El Paso.I have given Sam.Bradshaw's bank went to the wire and asked them to send twenty thousand dollars, which could be delivered by the narrow-gauge railroad at ten thirty-five.You can't let the auditor count 2,200 yuan and seal your bank.Tom, you've got to stumble over that auditor.trip him up.Even tie him up and sit on his head, trip him up.Watch out for our front windows when the narrow-gauge train arrives, as we get the money and draw the curtains as a signal.Don't let him go until then.I'm counting on you, Tom. your old friend, General Manager of National Livestock Bank Bob.Buckley The major tore up the note and threw it in the wastebasket.He laughed smugly as he did so. That damned inconsiderate old cowherd!He grumbled with satisfaction that what he had done for me in the sheriff's office twenty years ago had paid him back somewhat.