"Ask Mr. Penwell to come here," said Mr. Creamer. "Mr. Penwell is the head of our foreign department," he added in gracious explanation to Keith.
"Mr. Keith, gentlemen, is largely interested in some of those Southern mining properties that you have heard me speak of; and has just put through a very fine deal with an English syndicate."
The door opened, and a cool-looking, slender man of fifty-odd, with a thin gray face, thin gray hair very smoothly brushed, and keen gray eyes, entered. He was introduced to Mr. Keith. After Mr. Creamer had stated the purpose of Keith's visit and had placed the drafts in Mr. Penwell's hands, the latter stated, as an interesting item just off the ticker, that he understood Wentworth was in trouble. Some one had just come and said that there was a run on his bank.
"Those attacks on him in the newspapers must have hurt him considerably," observed one of the visitors.
"Yes, he has been a good deal hurt," said Mr. Creamer. "We are all right, Penwell?" He glanced at his subordinate.
Mr. Penwell nodded with deep satisfaction.
"So are we," said one of the visitors. "This is the end of Wentworth & Son. He will go down."
"He has been going down for some time. Wife too extravagant."
This appeared to be the general opinion. But Keith scarcely heard the speakers. He stood in a maze.
The announcement of Norman's trouble had come to him like a thunder-clap. And he was standing now as in a dream. Could it be possible that Norman was going to fail? And if he failed, would this be all it meant to these men who had known him always?