A telegraph delivery boy entered and handed Sydenham a yellow envelope. He signed for it and the boy withdrew. He opened it, and instead of a written message drew out a fresh sprig of heliotrope. Motionless and scarcely breathing, he sat and gazed at it as though he could never fill his eyes with the sight.
"Now," said Indiman, pushing Mr. Sandford into the room where the young cashier sat.
The conversation was a brief one, relating to the papers that Mr. Sandford carried in his hand.
"Leave them on your way up-town in my box at the safe-deposit company," concluded Mr. Sandford. Then he took his hat and went out.
Sydenham swung back to his desk; the HERALD lying there was in his way, and he tossed it onto the floor. Underneath lay a package of bills of large denominations.
The cashier acted quickly. "Alden!" he called, and the messenger came running in.
"I overlooked this package," said Sydenham; "it contains fifty thousand dollars. Do you think you can get to the bank with it? You have a minute and a half."
The messenger seized the package and dashed away. Sydenham looked again at the sprig of heliotrope; he pressed it passionately to his lips. Then carefully placing it in his pocket-book, he began an examination of the papers left by Mr. Sandford. The clock struck three.
The clerk Alden re-entered. "They wouldn't take it," he said, and handed the package of bills to Sydenham.
"Oh, very well," said the cashier, absently, "I'll take care of it. That's all, Alden; you can go."