Only one thing could have broken the solid ranks. Could any one in that fierce array of self-seekers have seen a man slink from a half-opened window in the rear of the bank, creep from shadow to shadow in the direction of the Rio Vista, and finally disappear within a secluded arbor, a timid fox in a pack of ravening hounds would have had a better chance of life than he.
Pale as the moonlight that lay soft and white about him, Elijah stood, awaiting Mellin.
"I have decided that I cannot take the money."
"What the devil are you here for then?"
"To tell that I will take chances with the rest."
"The devil you will." Mellin's voice showed the contemptuous scorn he felt; but Elijah's course was not new to him. His experience in life had taught him that in business the saint and the sinner stand on the same plane. He had noted that the sinner did without a qualm that which the saint did with moaning and tears. The result was the same in either case.
"I suppose you know that we are carrying five hundred thousand in deposits. We have one hundred thousand with which to meet the run."
"But the receivership that will follow?"
Mellin laughed.
"You are not so innocent as all that. You know our line of business. Real estate loans!" Mellin indulged in a sarcastic smile. "Two millions hard cash and five millions of Ysleta lots that aren't worth record."