“Go to the other end of the room,” said the man commandingly.
“Mr. Ilam!” the clerk called out respectfully, alarmed.
“Go to the other end of the room,” repeated the man.’
The clerk perceived then that he had a revolver. Mr. Gloucester also perceived the man and his revolver, and Mr. Ilam came out of the safe rather like a jack out of a box.
CHAPTER XX—What Jetsam Wanted
Hullo, Jos! said the intruder in a light, careless and rather scornful tone.
It was a stroke of genius on his part to address Mr. Ilam as “Jos.” That curt and familiar monosyllable, directed like a bullet at the formidable Ilam, the august President of the City, made such an impression upon both Mr. Gloucester and the L. and W. E. Bank-clerk that they took no part whatever in the immediately subsequent proceedings. They were astounded into silence. They trembled lest lightning should descend and utterly destroy the intruder.
And Ilam himself was plainly at a loss. He was about to say to the intruder: “You have no right to speak to me in such a way,” and to order him out of the place, when the ridiculousness of protesting and the futility of ordering presented themselves vividly to his mind.