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“What’s she paid in this morning?” he asked, in the quiet fashion of simple business interest.

The youth smiled.

“Why, a mere two thousand dollars,” he said with a shrug.

“Kind of a quiet night, I guess,” Burns returned, without any responsive smile. Then he folded his arms on the counter, gazing out of the half-open door, which was held back by a chain that could be released from behind the counter. “It’s queer,” he said. “That girl hadn’t more than two red cents back of last fall. And now—why, now she can handle more stuff than I’ve collected in twenty years. And she handles it right, too, that kid. They reckon she’s collected all the luck in Beacon. Well, I’d say she’s collected most of the business brains with it.” He laughed. “And she’s still buying city blocks.”

“And swell gowns,” added the teller with a grin.

“Well, I’d say she wouldn’t be the dandy girl she is if she didn’t. Say——”

Burns broke off. A pair of rough ponies had come to a halt outside. They were in full view through the open doorway.