CHAPTER XVII
THE INVESTIGATION
When Dick arrived at the bank on the following morning at his usual hour he found that a sense of gloom had descended upon the inmates of the institution.
Every one seemed to be depressed.
In answer to his pleasant greeting the tellers and bookkeeper nodded and went on with the work that held their attention, as though endeavoring to catch up with a press of business.
At first Dick wondered whether there could have been any further developments linking his name with the mysterious disappearance of the securities; then he wisely came to the conclusion that all of his fellow employees were simply nervous over the coming interview with the head of the establishment, who might find some cause to suspect that the guilt lay with one of them.
He went about his duties as quietly as though nothing had happened, and Mr. Winslow, looking over the top of his desk allowed himself to give a little nod of appreciation when he saw how determined Dick was not to look like a guilty person.
"That boy has grit, all right," he said to his associate, when they came together in getting out the cash to begin the day's business; "most lads in his condition would be scared half to death, and ready to break down. Dick is a chap after my own heart. Here comes Mr. Gibbs, and the cashier is with him. I believe he must have met him at the station, and has told the whole story on the way here. Now for it, Payson. This is a nasty piece of bad luck for us all, and I only hope we get out of it decently."
The two gentlemen were in the president's room for some time before any one was called; then one of the tellers was summoned and remained there for about five minutes, after which the other went in, followed by the bookkeeper.