Here was the place where the supposed Motor Matt was to be used, but Charley had not proved equal to the part.
“I’m a stranger in town,” said the girl, “and I had supposed that order of the colonel’s was enough.”
“Our orders are to deliver the bullion upon the presentation of this demand. You understand, Mr. McGlory, that we are simply acting as trustees for Colonel Billings.”
The cashier looked at the paper reflectively. He had many important matters on his mind, matters in which hundreds of thousands were concerned, and two gold bars were a mere bagatelle.
Again he studied the girl. She met his eyes frankly.
“After all,” said the cashier, “this order lets us out. I will give you a receipt to sign, and while you are putting your name to it, I will have the bullion brought from the safe.”
He scribbled a few words on a pad of printed receipt blanks, tore off the top slip and handed it to the girl, nodding his head toward a writing desk. Pearl stepped to the desk, and the cashier pressed an electric call for one of the bank attachés.
The employee who answered the call brought with him a telegram.
“That message just came, sir,” said he, “and is marked ‘rush.’”
The cashier took the message.