Benito found "Bill" Ralston in his private office, head bowed; eyes dully hopeless. He looked ten years older.
"The Bank of California has failed," he said before the younger man could ask a question. "It will never reopen its doors."
"I--I simply can't believe it!" After a stunned silence Benito spoke. He laid a hand on the banker's shoulder. "All I have is at your service, Ralston."
"Thank you ... but it isn't any use." He looked up misty-eyed. "I tried to make this town the greatest in the world.... I went too far.... I played too big a stake. Now--" he tried to smile. "Now comes the reckoning."
"But, God Almighty! Ralston," cried Benito, "your assets must be enormous.... It's only a matter of time. You'll pull through."
"They won't give me time," he spoke no names, yet Windham knew he meant those who had turned from friends to enemies.
Two days later Francisco met Ralston coming out of the bank. His face was haggard. His eyes had the look of one who has been struck an unexpected blow.
"Will the directors' meeting take place today, Mr. Ralston?"
"It's in session now," he answered dully.