Ernest Gibbons did not worry about his bank. He never worried over any issue less important than life-and-death.

Instead he applied his brain to all problems large and small as they came along, and enjoyed life. Especially he enjoyed helping raise Dora. Right after he acquired her and the mule Buck-or they acquired him-he discarded the savage curb bit Learner had used (salvaging the metal) and had the Jones Brothers' harnessmaker convert the bridle into a hackamore. He ordered also another saddle, sketching what he wanted and offering a bonus for early delivery. The leather crafter shook his head over that sketch, but delivered.

Thereafter Gibbons and the baby girl rode Buck in a saddle built for two: a man-sized saddle in the usual position, with a tiny saddle with tiny stirrups an integral part of it in that forward position where a normal saddle carries its pommel horn. A little wooden arch, leather covered, curved up from this, a safety bar the child could grab. Gibbons also had this extended saddle fitted with two belly bands, more comfortable for the mule, safer on steep trails for riders.

They rode that way several seasons, usually an hour or more after school-holding three-cornered conversations at a walk, or singing as a trio with Buck loudly off key but always on beat with his gait acting as a metronome, Gibbons carrying the lead, and Dora learning to harmonize. It was often the "Paunshot" song, which Dora regarded as her own, and to which she gradually added verses, including one about the paddock next to the schoolhouse, where Buck lived.

But soon there was too much girl for the tiny forward saddle as Dora grew straight and slender and tall. Gibbons bought a mare mule, after trying two others-one was rejected by Buck because she was (so he said) "shdoop'd" and the other because she failed to appreciate a hackamore and tried to run away.

Gibbons let Buck pick the third, with advice from Dora but none from him-and Buck acquired a mate in his paddock, and Gibbons had the stable enlarged. Buck still stood at stud for a fee but seemed pleased to have Beulah at home. However, Beulah did not learn to sing and talked very little. Gibbons suspected that she was afraid to open her mouth in Buck's presence-she was willing to talk, or at least to answer, when Gibbons rode tier alone...for it worked out, to Gibbons' surprise, that Beulah was his saddle mule; Dora rode the big male brute, even when the stirrups of the stock saddle had to be shortened ridiculously to fit her child's legs.

But steadily the stirrups had to be lengthened as Dora grew toward young womanhood. Beulah dropped a foal; Gibbons kept her and Dora named her "Betty" and trained the baby mule as she grew, at first letting her amble along behind with an empty saddle, then teaching her to accept a rider in the paddock. There followed a time when their daily rides became sixsomes and often picnics, with Mrs. Mayberry up on Buck, the steadiest, and with the lightest load-Dora--on Betty, and with Gibbons as usual riding Beulah. Gibbons remembered that summer as a most happy one: Helen and himself knee to knee on the older mounts while Dora and the frisky youngster galloped ahead, then turning back with Dora's long brown hair flying in the breeze.

One such time he asked, "Helen, are the boys beginning to sniff around her?"

"You old stud, don't you think about anything else?"

"Come off it, dear; I asked for information."

"Certainly the boys are noticing her, Ernest, and she is noticing them. But I will do all the worrying necessary. Not much; she's far too choosy to put, up with second best."

The happy family picnics did not resume the following summer. Mrs. Mayberry was feeling the years in her bones, and could mount and dismount only with help.

Gibbons had plenty of time to be ready before the murmurings about his monopoly of the banking business came to a head. The New Beginnings Bank of Commerce was a bank of issue; he (or Zaccur) always set up such a bank in each colony they pioneered. Money was necessary to a growing colony; barter was too clumsy. Some medium of exchange was needed even before government was needed.

He was not surprised when he was invited to meet with the town's selectmen to discuss the matter; it always happened. That evening, as he trimmed his Vandyke and added, a touch more gray to it and to the hair on his head in preparation for the confrontation, he reviewed in his mind proposals he had heard in the past for making water run uphill, the sun to stand still, and one egg to be counted as two. Would there be some novel numbskullery tonight? He hoped so but did not expect it.

He plucked hairs from his "receding" hairline-damn it, it was getting harder and harder to age enough each year!-then put on his war-plaid kilt...not only more impressive but with more ways to conceal weapons-and get at them quickly. He was fairly sure that no one was, as yet, annoyed enough at him to start violence, but once he had been too optimistic; since that time he had been a pessimist as a fixed policy.

He hid some items, locked up others, set some gadgets that Zaccur had fetched last trip but which were not offered for sale at the Top Dollar T.P., unlocked his-door, hand locked it from outside, and left by the route through the bar, so that he could tell the barkeep that would be away "a few minutes."

Three hours later Gibbons had settled one point: No one had been able 'to think of any new way to debase currency that he had not heard at least five hundred years earlier-more likely a thousand-and each was certainly much, much older in history. Early in the meeting he asked the Moderator to have the Town Scribe write down each question so that he could answer them in a lump-and was allowed to have it his way by being balky.

At last the Moderator Selectman, Jim "Duke" Warwick, said, "That seems to be it. Ernie, we have a motion to nationalize-I guess that's the word-the New Beginnings Bank of Commerce. You're not a selectman, but we all agree that you are a' party with a special interest, we want to hear from you. Do you want to speak against the proposal?'

"Not at all, Jim. Go right ahead."

"Eh? I'm afraid I didn't understand you."

"I have no objection to the bank being nationalized, if that's all, let's adjourn and go to bed."

Someone in the audience called out, "Hey, I want my question about New Pittsburgh money' answered!"

"And mine about interest! Interest is wrong-it says so in the Bible!"

'Well, Ernie? You said earlier that you would answer questions."

"So I did. But if you are nationalizing the bank, wouldn't it make more sense to put questions, to your state treasurer, or whatever you decide to call him? The new head of the bank. By the way, who is he? Hadn't he better sit up here on the platform?"

Warwick pounded his gavel, then said, "We haven't got that far, Ernie. For the time being the entire Council of Selectmen is the finance committee-if we go ahead with this."

"Oh, by all means go ahead. I'm shutting down."

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I said: I quit. A man doesn't like to have his neighbors dislike him. The people of Top Dollar don't like what I've been doing or this meeting would never have been called. So I've quit. The bank is closed it will not reopen tomorrow. Nor ever with me as president of it. That's why I asked who your state treasurer will be. I'm as interested as anyone in finding out what we are going to use for money from here on-and what it will be worth."

There was dead silence; then the Moderator had to pound his gavel and the Sergeant at Arms was very busy, all to shouts ,of "What about my seed loan?" "You owe me money!" "I sold Hank Brofsky a mule on his personal note-what do I collect?" "You can't do this to us!"