Mr. Vaughan next opened Frank's private drawer, and there, directly in front, lay two of the government bonds and a number of bills of different denominations.
Wentworth's face became ashen, his knees trembled, and he gasped for breath. Presently, however, he looked Mr. Vaughan squarely in the eye, and exclaimed, "Mr. Vaughan, in spite of what we see, and what you doubtless think, I do not know how the bonds came there."
The president did not reply. He tried the keys of the others' desks in Wentworth's lock, and neither would fit.
"Mr. Hendrix, you will call an officer; my duty is plain; I cannot evade it."
As the cashier went out of the door, Mr. Vaughan turned to Wentworth, who had sunk into a chair, covering his face with his hands, and said:
"Frank, I could not feel much worse if this had been against my own boy Will. Your father was a director of this bank, and my friend for years. It is a mercy that he did not live to see this day."
Wentworth made no answer; the power of speech appeared to have forsaken him. He did not lift his head nor utter a sound until Hendrix appeared with an officer.
Mr. Vaughan explained the situation, and Frank was led away in custody.
Consternation fell upon Frank's friends and acquaintances, for the evidence was so overwhelming that his simple denial of any knowledge of the matter had no weight with the majority. His mother and sister, together with the members of the camera club, formed a small minority who believed him innocent.
Will Vaughan was untiring in his efforts to console Mrs. Wentworth and her daughter Alice, and did his best to keep Frank's spirits up. What could he do, however, to stem the tide of public opinion? Again and again he besought Frank to discover some tangible clew to the robbery. Frank had racked his brain in the effort to do so, without avail.