The man answered by making sure she saw the pocket of his heavy Carhartt coat, bulging with his hand and maybe something else. Following bank protocol, which says no amount of money is worth a human life, she gave him the cash in her till, all the while taking quiet note of two physical traits. He had fat fingers and a fat nose.
He tucked the money into a zippered pouch and left without availing himself of either a candy cane or one of the complimentary yardsticks jutting from a bucket by the door. As soon as he left, the teller loudly called out words not common in Carleton: We’ve been robbed.
