As people shouted for Dugald, he became less discreet and choice in his hints, and before nightfall Wharfdale was evenly divided into three factions.
The first faction held that the manager had taken the money. The second faction was convinced that it was George Chard, basing their conclusions on the assumption that because the latter was quiet and reserved he must be deep and clever, and capable. The third party contended that the manager and George were in a conspiracy together. Some went so far as to say that the manager got £350, and George £150, the swag being divided according to seniority.
Everybody was convinced that there would be more sensational developments.
Consequently Wharfdale hung around the bank premises sympathising at every opportunity with its two officials, and offering its services generally to the bank and the police.
People who met at the post-office exchanged views on the bank robbery. It was the first that had ever occurred in Wharfdale, and the evil rumours probably arose from the fact that the inhabitants felt it as a general stigma on their own honesty, so that it was not long before Dan Creyton overheard a qualified hint which roused his Irish anger.
He took his hat and went down to the bank.
George was sitting on his stool with an open ledger before him, but the pen did not move upon its pages. Dan took his friend’s hand and held it as he had done once before in a day of trouble.
George listened to what Dan had to say to him, by way of sympathy. It seemed that there was a fire in his throat, but it was only when he spoke that Dan knew how badly he was hurt. Then Dan Creyton shook hands with George again and went away.
“This has got to be cleared up,” Dan told himself in a resolute voice as he went up the street. “He can’t have any indefinite charge like that hanging over him. Neither can the other fellow!”
At that moment he came face to face with the “other fellow,” who had been taking more whisky than was good for him. Dan stopped him and unburdened his mind. He was perhaps the only man in Wharfdale who would have dared to do it, because he was the only man who was convinced that George Chard was innocent. Nor did he suspect the manager, whom he believed to be too great a coward to run risks. But Dan had not exchanged a dozen sentences with the man before he knew that he was quite prepared to sacrifice George to save himself. The knowledge brought him more anxiety than he cared to confess. But his anxiety reached a climax when Rumour, in a female tongue, sharp and bitter, told him that a warrant was to be issued for the arrest of his friend, George Chard!