For Sam, while bold enough when his two hulking cronies were about, had no real backbone of his own.
After making two or three turns in front of the bank, he finally screwed his courage to the sticking point, and timidly asked an attendant if he could see the banker.
"I think so.

I'll see," was the reply.
In a few seconds the man reappeared, and said that Mr.Blake could spare a few minutes.

Hat in hand, Sam entered the ground-glass door which bore on it in imposing gilt letters the word "President." The interview was brief, and to Sam most unsatisfactory.

The banker pointed out to him that he was a minor, and as such that his note would be no good; and also that, without the permission of his father, he would not think of lending the youth such a sum.

Much crestfallen, Sam shuffled his way out toward the main door of the bank, when suddenly a voice he recognized caused him to look up.
"A hundred and twenty-five dollars.