"I am sorry, Mr. Delmar," said Judge sadly. "In the light of what you have just told me, I could not possibly lend the aid of my bank."
Roland Delmar sank back in his chair with a deep groan.
"You appreciate my position," said Judge. "How can you ask me what you have? You have admitted that the County National has lost money through some unknown channel. To fill up the empty space, you would like me to supply you with funds — to make up for your neglect. Suppose the leak should continue — where would my bank be? No, Mr. Delmar. That is out of the question!"
"You can't refuse me!" exclaimed Delmar hoarsely. "Do you know what this means? The County National will be forced to close its doors. That will be a blow to the whole financial structure of this region. The run will be on your bank, Mr. Travel as well as on mine!"
"We shall be prepared for it," declared Judge. "Don't forget, Mr. Delmar, that should your bank fail, the Middletown Trust will offset heavy withdrawals with new deposits."
"We're not going to fail if I can help it!" declared Delmar, with a sudden grimness. "We have enough assets now to withstand tremendous withdrawals. But should the rate increase, or confidence be entirely lost, we would face the emergency that I have asked you to prevent."
"And which I cannot attempt to prevent," added Judge firmly. "Further discussion is useless, Mr. Delmar."
Roland Delmar arose, a broken man. He made one final plea:
"I am going directly to my home," he said. "If you should change your decision—"
"I shall phone you," said Judge, in a kindly tone. "Suppose, Mr. Delmar" — he seemed to have a sudden change of thought — "that I think this over and call you within an hour. There is a chance — a slight chance — that I might alter my decision."