His face went livid. He reeled back against the counter, letting the tray fall to the floor.
"Gone!" he cried. "The money's gone!"
Harding started up and stood staring, first at Eustace, then at the tray lying on the floor.
"Gone?" he echoed. "Gone? How can it have gone?"
"It has—the tray is empty," Eustace gasped in reply.
Harding looked from the tray to the open safe. His glance rested on the drawer where the bank-notes were kept. He took hold of the handle and pulled the drawer out.
It was empty.
In an inner recess, guarded by second-locked doors, the gold reserve was kept. The night before the bags of gold had filled it to the doors.
Harding tried the handles. They held. The locks had not been forced.
"Have you the keys of the reserve?" he asked.