"Why, he was perhaps the one man in the bank that I knew least about. The truth is he was so unobjectionable in every way, personally unobtrusive, quite unimportant and uninteresting; really—er—un-everything, such a—a—"
"Shadow," Cummings suggested.
"That's the word—shadow—I never thought to inquire where he went till he walked out of here this noon with the bank's money crammed in that suitcase."
"Was the Saturday suitcase a regular thing?" I asked, and Whipple looked bewildered. But Knapp woke up with,
"Oh, yes. For years. Studious fellow. Books to be exchanged at the public library, I think. No—" Knapp spoke heavily. "Come to think of it, guess that was special work. He told me once he was taking some sort of correspondence course."
"Special work!" chuckled Worth Gilbert. "I'll tell the world!"
"Oh, well, give me a description of the suitcase," I hurried.
"Brown. Sole-leather. That's all I ever noticed," from Whipple, a bit stiffly.
"Brass rings and lock, I suppose?"
"Brass or nickel; I don't remember. What'd you say, Knapp?"