Suddenly he made up his mind, and, stepping up briskly, he threw down three sous, seized a paper, and ran as if they had all known him.
“Not very polite, the gentleman,” remarked two idlers whom he had pushed a little roughly.
Quick as he had been, a shopkeeper of the Rue Turenne had had time to recognize him.
“Why, that’s the cashier’s son!” he exclaimed. “Is it possible?”
“Why don’t they arrest him?”
Half a dozen curious fellows, more eager than the rest, ran after him to try and see his face. But he was already far off.
Leaning against a gas-lamp on the Boulevard, he unfolded the paper he had just bought. He had no trouble looking for the article. In the middle of the first page, in the most prominent position, he read in large letters,
“At the moment of going to press, the greatest agitation prevails among the stock-brokers and operators at the bourse generally, owing to the news that one of our great banking establishments has just been the victim of a theft of unusual magnitude.
“At about five o’clock in the afternoon, the manager of the Mutual Credit Society, having need of some documents, went to look for them in the office of the head cashier, who was then absent. A memorandum forgotten on the table excited his suspicions. Sending at once for a locksmith, he had all the drawers broken open, and soon acquired the irrefutable evidence that the Mutual Credit had been defrauded of sums, which, as far as now known, amount to upwards of twelve millions.
“At once the police was notified; and M. Brosse, commissary of police, duly provided with a warrant, called at the guilty cashier’s house.