"The depositors—the mob——"
"Was it one of the depositors who—who killed Pallister?"
"How should I know?" And again he shrugged his shoulders, eyed his coat-sleeves and his lean wrists, for his cuffs, obeying some unwritten law, had crept up and out of sight. He jerked his arms again, and his linen darted once more into view. Again he scrutinised it carefully, first glancing upon his right hand and then upon his left.
Mrs. Peter V. eyed him closely.
"Doesn't anybody know who fired the shot?"
He shook his head.
"Some believe the depositors did it; others a personal enemy. Wilkinson feared treachery, I think. A reward is being offered—a rather large reward, I think—ten thousand dollars."
The question, "By whom?" hung on her lips, but was interrupted by Flomerfelt, who went on with:
"It was Leslie's idea, I understand. She is beside herself—wants to avenge Pallister."