ployed his father. Mrs. Lamb kept the bank book. The deposits, as she had proudly shown Henry Lamb, amounted to $485. This money, earned by the honest sweat of his brow, Harold wistfully told himself was for use at college.
But Henry Lamb impatiently disposed of the washing machine idea for the present Summer. What Harold needed for his future work in Cleveland, Henry declared, was a grounding in finance. He would get him into the bank with him, where he, as an expert bookkeeper, could give his son the benefit of his long experience in money matters.
Henry spoke to Walter Coburn, of whom he was terribly afraid. The bank president grudgingly indicated his willingness to employ young Lamb.
"As long as my boy is coming to work here this Summer," growled Walter Coburn, "I suppose another beginner or so around won't do any harm. Tell him not to upset the inkwells or get in the way of the real workers."
Harold went to work the Monday morning following the memorable night when he received his High School diploma. He had hugged this valuable piece of parchment to his breast and tucked it safely away in the back of his bedroom dresser drawer. Harlow Gaines had told him that a diploma from
