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Alger, Horatio, 1832-1899

"Ragged Dick, Or, Street Life in New York with the Boot-Blacks"

"Can't you hide me
somewhere? I don't want to be seen."
The cashier understood at once how the land lay. He quickly opened a
little door, and admitted Dick behind the counter.
"Stoop down," he said, "so as not to be seen."
Dick had hardly done so when Jim Travis opened the outer door,
and, looking about him in a little uncertainty, walked up to the
cashier's desk.

CHAPTER XXIII
TRAVIS IS ARRESTED

Jim Travis advanced into the bank with a doubtful step, knowing well
that he was on a dishonest errand, and heartily wishing that he
were well out of it. After a little hesitation, he approached the
paying-teller, and, exhibiting the bank-book, said, "I want to get
my money out."
The bank-officer took the book, and, after looking at it a moment,
said, "How much do you want?"
"The whole of it," said Travis.
"You can draw out any part of it, but to draw out the whole requires
a week's notice."
"Then I'll take a hundred dollars."
"Are you the person to whom the book belongs?"
"Yes, sir," said Travis, without hesitation.
"Your name is--"
"Hunter."
The bank-clerk went to a large folio volume, containing the names of
depositors, and began to turn over the leaves. While he was doing
this, he managed to send out a young man connected with the bank for
a policeman. Travis did not perceive this, or did not suspect that
it had anything to do with himself. Not being used to savings banks,
he supposed the delay only what was usual.


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