"You're telling him."

"Not a chance, when he gets in you are telling him."

"Nah, I like my job."

The two bank tellers stop talking in unison as Mr. Clysdon enters the bank. The man is dressed like a local and sporting a fresh bruise across the side of his face. His left arm is in a sling.

One whispers to the other, "Is he limping?"

A hushed response, "Shure looks like it."

"Who do you think jumped him?"

"Dunno. It could be a half dozen folks in this town."

They chime loudly in unison, "Morning Mr. Clysdon!" Then return to their quiet murmurings.

"I'm not telling him that Miss Taylor withdrew all her money."

"Yeah, neither am I... Mebbe tomorrow."

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