There, was a murmur of gratified surprise at this, and several who had been crowding into line to get their money became more composed. Still, there were doubtful ones.
Several depositors announced themselves as anxious to look into the vaults. They were escorted there and, on coming back, stated that they had seen several millions in currency, or Government bonds. It developed later that, in anticipation of a possible run, when the million-dollar robbery should become known, the bank had, a few days previous, and directly after the theft, stored a large amount of cash in its vaults.
“Are you satisfied?” demanded the president.
“Yes! Yes!” exclaimed the crowd, and it began to melt away. The run was practically over, and the alarm, that had been caused be reading the story in the Leader, was at an end.
President Bentfield looked relieved, and started for his private office. The hard-worked clerks and tellers breathed easier.
“This will make good copy,” remarked Peter to Larry. “I’m going to ’phone it in.”
“So am I,” replied our hero, and the two started out on the run, for it was getting late, and every second counts when a paper is going to press.
As Larry passed a door that led from the main corridor into the president’s room, the uniformed messenger by whom, earlier in the day, he had sent in his card, came out.
“The president wants to see you, Mr. Dexter,” he said.
“I can’t see him now,” replied Larry, and there was grim satisfaction in his ability to thus repay, in his own coin, the president’s treatment of himself. “I’m in a hurry to telephone.”