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.