"That's folly!" declared the cashier, shortly. "The boy is not connected with the gang. Think they would send him here—to a bank—if he were! Have a little sense, Burton!"
The teller mumbled, looking sullen and rebuffed, while Frank felt relieved.
Then the cashier once more questioned Frank, as a lawyer might question a witness. He tried, in various ways, to entrap the boy, but Frank made no blunders.
After a time, the cashier seemed satisfied.
"I am sorry for you," he said. "You have lost a hundred dollars, but you are fortunate to escape arrest and imprisonment."
"I suppose I am," admitted Frank; "and I will tell you something, now; I propose to solve the mystery of this money. I am going to find that girl, I am going to find out how she came to have the bogus stuff, and I am going to bring this band of queer-makers to book, if possible."
The receiving teller laughed scornfully.
"A fine bluff!" he muttered.
The cashier gave him a crushing glance.
"You have undertaken a big job, my boy," said the latter. "I hardly think you will be able to carry it out when government detectives are bothered."