"Yesterday—yes. But not this morning."
"Great God!" cried Stuart, thrusting himself forward, "what!--" He fixed his feeble eyes upon Fields, but could speak no further. His arms fell down by his sides, and he began to tremble. He did not have sufficient courage to ask the question. Somebody else did.
"What has become of it?"
"That I shall not tell you!" returned Fields, looking defiantly at one director after another.
"But is it gone?" cried the chorus. Many of the faces that confronted Fields had become waxen. The little group was permeated with a tremor.
"Yes, it is gone; I have taken it."
"You have taken it!" "You have taken it!" "You have taken it!"
The directors, overwhelmed and confounded, retreated from Fields as if they were in personal danger from him.
"In Heaven's name, Fields!" exclaimed the president, "speak out! Tell us! What!--where!--the money! Come, man!"
"You had better lock the door," said the teller; "some one will be coming in."