was closeted with Mr. Prendergast, the bank president. It was not long before Ned and Tom were called in.
"I have some good news for you, Ned," said Mr. Prendergast, while Tom smiled. "Mr. Swift—er—ahem one of our largest depositors, has spoken to me about you, Ned. I find that you have been very faithful. You are hereby appointed assistant cashier, and of course you will get a much larger salary."
Ned could hardly believe it, but he knew then what Tom had whispered to Mr. Swift. The wishes of a depositor who brings much gold bullion to a bank can hardly be ignored.
"Come on out and have some soda," invited Tom, and when Ned looked inquiringly at the president, the latter nodded an assent.
As the two lads were crossing the street to a drug store, something whizzed past them, nearly running them down.
"What sort of an auto was that?" cried Tom.
"That? Oh, that was Andy Foger's new car," answered Ned. "He's been breaking the speed laws every day lately, but no one seems to bother him. It's because his father is rich, I suppose. Andy says he has the fastest car ever built."
"He has, eh?" remarked Tom, while a curious