WANTED IN THE CASHIER'S OFFICE
Five minutes later a bell rang. It was from the cashier's office, and
was meant to summon Dick if he were about the premises.
Accordingly he at once presented himself in the little department
adjoining the main offices, where he found the cashier still sitting
with Mr. Graylock.
The latter was watching for his coming, since his little eyes fastened
upon the boy immediately.
It appeared that he had mentioned something to Mr. Goodwyn pertaining to
a matter that Dick would be apt to know about; which of course had
resulted in the boy being called upon to explain.
This he was able to do in a satisfactory manner, for after all it was a
trivial matter, though considering the feeling that animated the
merchant it might have become serious had Dick been less careful how he
handled the messages entrusted to his charge.
"That is all right, Richard. I can see that you did the proper thing. If
there is any fault it does not lie at your door," remarked Mr. Goodwyn,
smiling.
Dick was more than pleased at these few words of praise from this
source, the very first he had ever received from Mr. Goodwyn; his face
flushed, and he drew a long breath as if inclined to thank the cashier,
but realizing that this was not called for he turned to depart.
"By the way, Mr. Goodwyn, don't you think it would be wise to have this
packet placed in the safe right away? It represents too much to me just
now to take any possible chance of losing it," exclaimed Mr. Graylock,
eagerly.
"Why, certainly, if it will ease your mind any, Archibald. I meant to do
it myself just as soon as you had gone. Here, Richard, be sure and place
this in the vault just where you put that package for me yesterday," and
Dick, turning at the door accepted the large buff envelope that had a
stout rubber band around it to keep the contents intact.
He was impelled somehow to look quickly up at Mr. Graylock as he turned
to pass out of the door.
Again that strange shiver shot through him from head to feet as he saw
the grim smile that appeared for just a single instant on that thin
face, and then vanished.
He went immediately into the bank vault, which was open, though the
inner one had been fastened when the tellers left their stations, and
carefully placed the packet in the exact spot he had been told.
Then he returned to the little room back of the offices to finish his
lonely lunch; for Pliny was away from his desk three days now with an
attack of summer complaint--nothing serious, but keeping him at home
for a short season.
Five minutes later he saw Mr. Graylock pass out.
Then one of the tellers returned and the cashier went home to his
dinner.
During the balance of the day Dick often thought of what had occurred
during the noon hour, and wondered whether the owner of the big store
could really be getting into deep water financially.
Already he had learned that those in the bank must never talk about what
they happen to learn or suspect, and so he made up his mind to keep his
suspicions to himself.
At any rate it was none of his business, and while he had no affection
for Mr. Graylock he certainly did not feel like exulting over the fact
that impending trouble hovered over his devoted head.
Once, when he had occasion to pass into the vault he saw that someone,
possibly the teller, had taken pains to remove the packet from the
shelf, and that it was undoubtedly now safely reposing in the inner
receptacle of the big vault; indeed, the door of this being ajar Dick
fancied he could see the buff envelope with the heavy rubber band
sticking out of one of the various pigeon-holes.
After that it passed entirely from his mind.
Three more days passed by. There were now rumors abroad that all was not
rosy with the firm of Archibald Graylock; everybody was talking of it,
for in a small town such a thing is a calamity affecting many
households; for should the big store close its doors scores must be
thrown out of employment, for it had been doing a rushing business off
and on.
Dick heard of it in half a dozen places; indeed, it seemed as though
everyone must be talking about the visits of creditors, and the hustling
of the worried proprietor to get accommodation in order to tide over the
storm.
There were no more consultations between the cashier and Mr. Graylock;
for somehow the merchant seemed to avoid the bank, sending Ferd several
times with notes, when it became necessary to communicate.
It seemed to Dick as though there was a muttering in the air, just as he
used to notice before a summer storm broke on a sultry day.
Surely something was going to happen.
And now a new week had come around, the beginning of his second week
with the bank.
Dick was even more pleased than ever with his position.
It was an absolute delight for him to dabble with figures, and finding
how very quick and accurate he was, the bookkeeper and tellers did not
hesitate to give him many a task in that line.
The more he did the better they were pleased, and many a joke passed
around the inner circle that was aimed at poor Charles, and his
blundering ways.
It was about a quarter after eleven when Dick saw Mr. Graylock come in.
He had a most determined look on his face, as though his mind was set
upon doing something he had endeavored to hold aloof for some time.
"Looks to me as though the climax is close at hand," observed Pliny, who
was once more back at his desk; Dick happened to be standing near by
waiting for some notices that were being gotten together by the
bookkeeper to be delivered on his regular morning round of the business
houses of Riverview.
"I think myself we shall hear something drop before long," replied that
functionary, in a low confidential tone, intended only for the ears of
his assistant.
Never were words spoken half in jest more speedily made to come true.
Loud voices could be heard coming from the little den of the cashier,
whither Mr. Graylock had immediately hastened upon entering.
Then in the doorway appeared the trim figure of Mr. Goodwyn, showing
evident signs of excitement.
"It is impossible, incredible, sir! Such a thing could never happen in
this institution. There must be some mistake; your informant was in
error," he was saying, forgetting that other ears than those of the
merchant were open, and could hear all he was saying.
"My informant is a responsible man, and he declares that there can be
no mistake. It was positively one of my securities that was offered to
him by an unknown party, who, upon being questioned refused to tell
where he had obtained the same, and left before he could be detained. I
only trust that there is a mistake, Mr. Goodwyn. It would be a most
serious thing for me just now to be crippled when I have need all of my
available resources."
"We will prove it to be a mistake, and you can breathe freely again, Mr.
Graylock."
With that the cashier stepped into the safe.
Mr. Graylock stood in the doorway of the inner sanctuary, an eager look
on his face that told of expectancy and dread, either real or assumed.
Every one in the enclosure had their eyes riveted upon the vault;
although they were not supposed to have any interest in this matter it
was only human nature to be overwhelmed with curiosity concerning
anything that happened in connection with Archibald Graylock, who just
now seemed to occupy a prominent place in the talk of the town,
particularly with regard to his financial standing.
Five seconds later the cashier came out of the vault again.
He was smiling now, and holding up the big buff envelope that was held
with the heavy rubber band.
Both he and the merchant passed within the smaller office, and the door
of communication was immediately closed.
Tellers and bookkeepers started back to work, with various significant
smiles and nods.
"Has to put his long hand down at last in his bag and get out the
securities he had intended keeping for his old age," whispered Pliny,
turning to Dick, and then immediately adding: "Why, what's the matter,
Dick, you look pale?"
"Nothing," replied the other; but somehow he found himself still
listening as if he really expected to hear further sounds from the
interior of the cashier's retreat.
Voices reached them as if the two men were in earnest consultation.
Then the door opened and Mr. Goodwyn poked his head out.
He looked worried, much more so than Dick had ever seen him before.
Yes, something had indeed happened, and a vague sense of impending peril
seemed to overwhelm the boy, so that his knees actually quivered while
he stood there, not through fear, for he had done nothing to bring about
such a feeling, but simply nervous excitement.
"Mr. Payson, kindly step in here," said the cashier.
The paying teller did so with alacrity, and remained inside some five
minutes, finally returning to his desk without saying a word to any of
his associates, and looking rather mystified and uneasy.
Then Mr. Winslow was asked to join the two who were in the other
apartment, and when he too came out his face was white, and in his eyes
there seemed to be something bordering on dread, such as suspicion cast
upon his good name must always breed in the mind of a bank employee.
Next the bookkeeper had his inning.
Dick still waited, knowing that sooner or later he was apt to have his
turn.
Just as he expected, Pliny Kassam was not called upon; that must be
because he had been absent up to the morning of this same day.
As the bookkeeper resumed his work he did not look quite so jolly as
usual; in fact a line as of new anxiety had come between his eyes, and
Dick imagined he gave a quick glance toward him as though something that
was said had caused suspicion to be aroused toward the new messenger.
"It's coming, whatever it all means!" Dick was saying mentally, as he
tried to get a grip upon his pulses and fortify himself for the ordeal.
Then his bell rang--he was wanted in the cashier's office.