At any rate it was none of his business, and while he had no affection for Mr. Graylock he certainly did not feel like exulting over the fact that impending trouble hovered over his devoted head.
Once, when he had occasion to pass into the vault he saw that someone, possibly the teller, had taken pains to remove the packet from the shelf, and that it was undoubtedly now safely reposing in the inner receptacle of the big vault; indeed, the door of this being ajar Dick fancied he could see the buff envelope with the heavy rubber band sticking out of one of the various pigeon-holes.
After that it passed entirely from his mind.
Three more days passed by. There were now rumors abroad that all was not rosy with the firm of Archibald Graylock; everybody was talking of it, for in a small town such a thing is a calamity affecting many households; for should the big store close its doors scores must be thrown out of employment, for it had been doing a rushing business off and on.
Dick heard of it in half a dozen places; indeed, it seemed as though everyone must be talking about the visits of creditors, and the hustling of the worried proprietor to get accommodation in order to tide over the storm.
There were no more consultations between the cashier and Mr. Graylock; for somehow the merchant seemed to avoid the bank, sending Ferd several times with notes, when it became necessary to communicate.
It seemed to Dick as though there was a muttering in the air, just as he used to notice before a summer storm broke on a sultry day.
Surely something was going to happen.
And now a new week had come around, the beginning of his second week with the bank.
Dick was even more pleased than ever with his position.