“Sylvester has always been on hand before.”
“We can’t proceed without him,” was the reply.
Mr. Wheelock looked thoughtful.
With a nod of his head towards such gentlemen as met his eye, Bertram hastened to a little cupboard devoted to the use of himself and uncle. Opening it, he looked within, took down a coat he saw hanging before him, and unconsciously uttered an exclamation. It was a dress-coat such as had been worn by Mr. Sylvester the evening before.
“What does this mean! My uncle has been here!” were the words that sprang to his lips; but he subdued his impulse to speak, and hastily hanging up the coat, relocked the door. Proceeding at once to the outer room, he asked two or three of the clerks if they were sure Mr. Sylvester had not been in during the day. But they all returned an unequivocal “no,” and that too with a certain stare of surprise that at once convinced him he was betraying his agitation too plainly.
“I will telegraph whether Wheelock considers it necessary or not,” thought he, and was moving to summon a messenger boy when he caught sight of Hopgood slowly making his way in from the street. He was very pale and walked with his eyes fixed on the ground, ominously shaking his great head in a way that bespoke an inner struggle of no ordinary nature. Bertram at once sauntered out to meet him.
“Hopgood,” said he, “your evident anxiety is infectious. What has happened to make my uncle’s detention a matter of such apparent import? If you do not wish to confide in me, his nephew almost his son, speak to Mr. Wheelock or to one of the directors, but don’t keep anything to yourself which concerns his welfare or—What are you looking at?”
The man was gazing as if fascinated at the keys in Bertram’s hand.
“Nothing sir, nothing. You must not detain me; I have nothing to say. I will wait ten minutes,” he muttered to himself, glancing again at the clock. Suddenly he saw the various directors come filing out of the inner room, and darted for the second time from Bertram’s detaining hand.
“I hope nothing has happened to Mr. Sylvester,” exclaimed one gentleman to another as they filed by.