He was continually congratulated upon it.

"Savings-banks are good enough for me," he kept repeating.

But that was four years ago, and now his turn had come; the contagion of speculation had struck him at last.

That was the way with Lloyd's failing employes.
Andrew kept his stock certificate in a little, tin, trunk-shaped box which had belonged to his father.

It had a key and a tiny padlock, and he had always stored in it the deed of his house, his savings-bank book, and his insurance policy.