“Is that mob in thar?” he asked.
“Yes, and quiet now,” said Miller. “Let them alone; the important thing is to put the police on Winship's track. Come back down-town.”
“I 'll have to git the particulars from Craig fust,” said Dukes. “Are you loser?”
“No, but some of my clients are, and I'm ready to stand any expense to catch the thief.”
“Well, I 'll see you in a minute, and we 'll heat all the wires out of town. I 'll see you in a minute.”
Farther down the street Miller met Dolly Barclay. She had come straight from her home, in an opposite direction from the bank, and had evidently not heard the news.
“I'm on my way to prayer-meeting,” she smiled. “I'm getting good to please the old folks, but—” She noticed his pale face. “What is the matter? Has anything—”
“Craig's bank has failed,” Rayburn told her briefly. “He says Winship has absconded with all the cash in the vaults.”
Dolly stared aghast. “And you—you—”
“I had no money there,” broke in Miller. “I was fortunate enough to escape.”