"It is useless to clamor for admittance," the man shouted, thrusting back the foremost of the crowd. "It is impossible to give out a statement until we have examined the books."
"Where's Ward?" several voices demanded. "Where's Lester Ward?"
At the same time a forward movement of the crowd threatened to sweep the interposing figure off the threshold. Britz, who had elbowed his way to the door, pinned his shield to his lapel, and, facing the excited men and women, exclaimed:
"I am a police officer."
"Then why in hell don't you arrest Lester Ward?" cried someone near the opposite wall.
"If the facts warrant it, he will be arrested," answered Britz. "Your interests will be protected and you are only wasting your time remaining here."
As abruptly as he had faced them, Britz now swung around and entered the office, locking the door behind him.
"What's the trouble?" he inquired.
"I have been appointed receiver by the United States District Court," answered the man who had addressed the crowd from the half-open door. "An involuntary petition in bankruptcy has been filed against Ward & Co. It looks to me like an awful failure."
Britz's eyes traveled about the office in search of Ward. But the head of the firm was not to be seen. Instead, the detective saw a score of clerks, bookkeepers and tellers seated gloomily at their desks, gazing at one another in appalled silence.