"He's in that room," whispered Ferret, indicating a lighted window on the ground floor.
"I'm going to watch. You stay here."
The window was partly opened. Approaching it, Ferret crouched in the darkness; then slowly raised his head and peered within.
Roland Delmar was seated at a desk, his face haggard, staring absently at the wall. While Ferret watched, the telephone rang. Delmar arose eagerly from his reverie and went to answer the call at a table in the corner.
"Yes, yes," Ferret heard him say. "Ah, Mr. Traver. Have you been able to change your decision?… What is that?… I see…"
His voice ended wearily as the banker listened to the other speaker. Then a fiery light came into Delmar's eyes — a spark of antagonism.
"I see your game, Traver!" he exclaimed. "You want me to go to the wall. You're going to ruin our bank… No!… I don't believe you!"
His sudden indignation died, and he became almost pleading in tone.
"Maybe I'm wrong, Mr. Traver," he said. "I'm very nervous — you must excuse my outburst. But what am I to do? It means the end for me—"
A startled look appeared upon Delmar's face as he heard some subtle suggestion.