“I think it would,” answered the president. “Suppose we go out into the main room, and look over the ground? It may help us on the case.”
The three went out into the dimly lighted “cage” where, during business hours, so much money changed hands.
“Here is where the bank-notes were put into the bag,” said Mr. Bentfield, pointing to a low desk. “I know, because I was present at the time. It was one of the biggest transactions we ever undertook, and I wanted no mistakes. I saw the bundles of notes put into the steel-mesh-lined bag. It was then locked, and set close to the chief cashier’s desk, on the floor. There were a number of clerks and tellers all around, and it would have been impossible for a stranger—an outsider—to have come in the cage. We can easily prove that, if Witherby sets up, as a defense, that some one other than a bank employee might have committed the theft.”
“After the bag was placed on the floor, what happened?” asked Larry, who wanted to refresh his memory.
“It stayed there until it was picked up, to be taken to the other bank. Then the theft was discovered, as you know.”
Larry looked around the cage. It was like most banks. In front of the brass grill work, and inside of it, was a long desk, at about the height of a man’s chest. It was at this desk that the various tellers and bookkeepers worked, and took in the money from depositors, or paid it out through little wickets.
On the other side of the cage was a similar long desk, at which several bookkeepers could work on the sloping top. This desk was not used by the public at all, but at it the bank’s books were made up, money counted and put into packages, and similar things done. Underneath this desk were several closets, or compartments, closed by sliding doors.
“What are they for?” asked Larry, pointing to the closets.
“Oh, unimportant books are kept in them, and some of the clerks use them to put their rubbers or umbrellas in. Nothing of any account,” and Mr. Bentfield opened several of the doors. Many of the compartments were empty, and in one was a small valise.
“Whose is that?” asked Larry.