Part 44 (1/2)
He was an alert, bright-eyed young chap with a smiling face. ”Good afternoon, Mr. Copeland. Any news for me to-day?”
Mr. Copeland was an elderly man of great dignity, and almost as much of a figure there as the Elder himself. It was an act of great temerity to approach him for items of news for the _Leauvite Mercury_.
Of this fact the young reporter seemed to be blithely ignorant. All the clerks were covertly watching the outcome, and thus attention was turned from Harry King; even the teller glanced frequently at the cas.h.i.+er's desk as he counted the bank notes placed in his hand.
”News? No. No news,” said Mr. Copeland, without looking up.
”Thank you. It's my business to ask for it, you know. We're making more of a feature of personal items than ever before. We're up to date, you see. 'Find out what people want and then give it to them.'
That's our motto.” The young man leaned forward over the high railing that corralled the cas.h.i.+er in his pen apart from the public, smilingly oblivious of that dignitary's objections to an interview. ”Expecting the return of Elder Craigmile soon?”
At that question, to the surprise of all, the cas.h.i.+er suddenly changed his manner to the suave affability with which he greeted people of consequence. ”We are expecting Elder Craigmile shortly. Yes. Indeed he may arrive any day, if the voyage is favorable.”
”Thank you. Mrs. Craigmile accompanies him, I suppose?”
”It is not likely, no. Her health demands--ahem--a little longer rest and change.”
”Ah! The Elder not called back by--for any particular reason? No.
Business going well? Good. I'm told there's a great deal of depression.”
”Oh, in a way--there may be,--but we're all of the conservative sort here in Leauvite. We're not likely to feel it if there is. Good afternoon.”
No one paid any attention to Harry King as he walked out after the _Leauvite Mercury_ reporter, except Mr. Copeland, who glanced at him keenly as he pa.s.sed his desk. Then, looking at his watch, he came out of his corral and turned the key in the bank door.
”We'll have no more interruptions now,” he said, as he paused at the teller's window. ”You know the young man who just went out?”
”Sam Carter of the _Mercury_. Old Billings no doubt sent him in to learn how we stand.”
”No, no, no. Sam Carter--I know him. Who's the young man who followed him out?”
”I don't know. Here's his signature. He's just made a big deposit on long time--only one thousand on call. Unusual these days.”
Mr. Copeland's eyes glittered an instant. ”Good. That's something. I decided to give the town people to understand that there is no need for their anxiety. It's the best policy, and when the Elder returns, he may be induced to withdraw his insane offer of reward. Ten thousand dollars! It's ridiculous, when the young men may both be dead, for all the world will ever know.”
”If we could do that--but I've known the Elder too long to hope for it. This deposit stands for a year, see? And the ten thousand the Elder has set one side for the reward gives us twenty thousand we could not count on yesterday.”
”In all the history of this bank we never were in so tight a place.
It's extraordinary, and quite unnecessary. That's a bright boy--Sam Carter. I never thought of his putting such a construction on it when I admitted the fact that Mrs. Craigmile is to remain. Two big banks closed in Chicago this morning, and twenty small ones all over the country during the last three days. One goes and hauls another down.
If we had only cabled across the Atlantic two weeks ago when I sent that letter--he must have the letter by now--and if he has, he's on the ocean.”
”This deposit tides us over a few days, and, as I said, if we could only get our hands on that reserve of the Elder's, we'd be safe whatever comes.”
”He'll have to bend his will for once. He must be made to see it, and we must get our hands on it. I think he will. He'd cut off his right hand before he'd see this bank go under.”
”It's his son's murder that's eating into his heart. He's been losing ground ever since.”
The clerks gradually disappeared, quietly slipping out into the suns.h.i.+ne one by one as their books were balanced, and now the two men stood alone. It was a time used by them for taking account of the bank's affairs generally, and they felt the stability of that inst.i.tution to be quite personal to them.
”I've seen that young man before,” said Mr. Copeland. ”Now, who is he?