The transfer form sits on the counter, filled in and unsigned. Rosa slides the quarterly sheet across. Eighty members have pulled out since the bank's letters landed, and they are the big savers. If it keeps going, the board has to stop lending to new businesses. You have been a member here since you were 24, which buys you one vote at the annual meeting and nothing else. Rosa drops her voice so the teller cannot hear: 'Give me till the end of September, {{NAME}}. After that it will not matter either way.'
Fifty Thousand, Or The Town