Leo opened the front door,—which was indeed the only door,—and led the banker to his own room on the second floor. The gentleman closed the door, and as there was no lock upon it, he placed a chair against it to serve as a fastening. He did not appear to be in a very great hurry now, and it was evident that he did not intend to change his clothes; for, instead of doing so, he took from the pockets of his overcoat the papers and packages he had removed from the safe. He broke the seals on some of the parcels, and opened the papers they contained. He did not stop to read any of them. In a bank book he found a package of bank notes.
"Three hundred and fifty dollars," muttered he, as he counted the money. "A mean haul!"
He examined all the papers, but no more money was discovered. The jaunty man looked as though he was sorely disappointed. He gathered up the papers, rolled them together, and then looked about the little chamber. On one side of it there was a painted chest, which contained Leo's rather scanty wardrobe. He raised the lid, and thrust the bundle of papers down to the bottom of it, burying them beneath the boy's summer clothing. Closing the chest, he took his carpet-bag, and left the room. Leo was waiting for him in the entry; but "Mr. Hart" was again in a hurry, and could not do anything more than say again he would make it all right with Mr. Checkynshaw.
Probably he did not keep his promise.
CHAPTER IV.
MR. CHECKYNSHAW RUSHES.
Mr. Checkynshaw felt that he had fully vindicated his personal dignity, and that of the well-known house whose head he was. The bank president he met in the entry did not think so, but believed that a person of such eminent gravity ought to call a policeman, instead of making himself ridiculous by resorting to violence. The banker explained, and then returned to his office. He was alone; and, seating himself in his cushioned chair, he gave himself up to the reflections of the moment, whatever they were.
Whether the grave charges and the angry threats of Mr. Fitzherbert Wittleworth were the subject of his thoughts was known only to himself; but as he reflected, the muscles of his mouth moved about, his brow contracted, and he seemed to be mentally defending himself from the charges, and repelling the threats. Certainly the bold accusation of the banker's late clerk had produced an impression, and stirred up the anger of the great man; but it was very impolitic for the discharged clerk to "beard the lion in his den."
The safe in the private office contained the valuable papers of the banker, while those of the firm whose head he was were placed in the vaults of the great banking-room. He kept the key of this safe himself. If it ever went into the hands of the clerk, it was only to bring it from the lock-drawer in the vaults; he was never trusted to deposit it there. Mr. Checkynshaw did not look at the safe till he had thoroughly digested the affair which had just transpired. When he was ready to go home to dinner, just before three o'clock, he went to the safe to lock it, and secure the key where prying curiosity could not obtain it.