The bookkeeper heaved a mighty sigh of relief.
"That job's off my hands for six months or more," he said, with evident satisfaction.
Dick could just catch the little chuckle that the receiving teller allowed to escape him upon hearing this remark; but by no look did Mr. Winslow betray his consciousness of a knowledge of the truth.
Things went on for two days just about as usual.
The failure of Archibald Graylock proved to be worse than was at first supposed possible, and it was now declared that after the affairs of the bankrupt firm had been adjusted the creditors might receive even less than twenty cents on the dollar.
Mr. Graylock went about looking quite forlorn, as a man whose business was ruined might be expected to appear; but once when he was passing out of the bank Dick, watching closely, felt sure that he saw a little sneer pass over his angular face, as though some sudden thought had pleased him.
Dick was treated with the utmost kindness by every one for all knew the story of the fire, and Pliny never ceased to deplore the wretched fate that seemed to debar him from playing so heroic a role.
When he could do so Dick sought out the teller, for he was anxious to know whether Mr. Cheever was at work, even though unseen by those in the bank.
"What news?" he asked in a low tone, stopping by Mr. Winslow's desk as if waiting for some document to place in the vault.
The other glanced hastily around before replying.