Something out of the usual run must have happened, for a score of people with umbrellas over their heads could be seen in what seemed to be attitudes of curiosity, necks being craned and eyes turned toward the store.
Among them he saw several whom he knew had held positions in Mr. Graylock's employ, and this was a very suspicious fact.
Seeing a young fellow he happened to know very well, and who had been a clerk in the place, Dick asked the usual question:
"What's going on here, Dud?"
The other shrugged his shoulders as he replied:
"The old man is in the hands of his creditors. They've shut him up, and I understand that it's a bad business all around—may not pay twenty cents on the dollar. Meanwhile we're out of a job, and they do say the store may never go on again."
Dick looked surprised, as though he were hearing news; for it was hardly policy to let it be known that the failure of Archibald Graylock had been discounted at the bank for several days.
He stood around talking for a short time, until he was nearly due at the bank, and then hastened to his work.
If anything it seemed even more depressing there than on the street.
The atmosphere was so dense that lights were actually needed in the bookkeeping department in order that business might go on unimpeded; while the employees kept their heads bent down over their work, and not one had a smile to spare.