"Go on, Grit," said Mr. Graves. "Mr. Courtney is one of our directors, so that you may speak freely before him."
"I understand," commenced Grit, coming at once to the point, "that you are intending to send up thirty thousand dollars in government bonds to the Merchants' Bank, in Boston."
Mr. Graves and Mr. Courtney looked at each other in surprise. This was a bank secret, and such matters were generally kept very close with them.
"How did you learn this?" asked the president, in surprise, "and if so, what can you have to say in regard to it?"
"Perhaps he wants to be the messenger," said Mr. Courtney, with a derisive smile.
Grit took no notice of this, for his mind was occupied with the plan of the would-be robbers.
"I will tell you at once," he said. "There is a plan to waylay the messenger, and relieve him of the bonds."
Here was a fresh surprise. Mr. Graves began to find Grit's communication of absorbing interest.
"How do you know this?" he asked cautiously.
"Because I overheard the robbers discussing their plan."