"Mr. Trimm, recently president of the late Thirteenth National Bank, was taking
a trip which was different in a number of ways from any he had ever taken. To
begin with, he was used to parlor cars and Pullmans and even luxurious private
cars when he went anywhere; whereas now he rode with a most mixed company in a
dusty, smelly day coach. In the second place, his traveling companion was not
such a one as Mr. Trimm would have chosen had the choice been left to him, being
a stupid-looking German-American with a drooping, yellow mustache. And in the
third place, Mr. Trimm's plump white hands were folded in his lap, held in a
close and enforced companionship by a new and shiny pair of Bean's Latest Model
Little Giant handcuffs. Mr. Trimm was on his way to the Federal penitentiary to
serve twelve years at hard labor for breaking, one way or another, about all the
laws that are presumed to govern national banks... "
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