"Still reading the headlines, eh, Judge?" questioned Major. "Great stuff all right."
"I am just as much interested in the absent news," replied Judge, "as in the news that is present. There wasn't much space for anything but the banquet. Martha Delmar's statement was not picked up by the morning newspapers."
"That's good."
"Stability," said Judge, with a smile. "That has been the keynote today. I have been watching the customers, Major. You have been busier than either Ferret or Butcher."
"Tellers don't make loans," grinned Major. "That's the cashier's job. Going great guns, today, Judge. Cash going out — securities coming in. That's the racket from now on."
"Yes," said Judge thoughtfully. "It's very good. You've been doing it well, Major."
"All short loans," declared Major. "Giving them more than they asked for. Most of the borrowers were hit when the County National crashed. They won't be able to make the grade when the notes are due."
"We'll have lots of securities to dispose of," agreed Judge. "I think I'll send you to Chicago, Major, when the time comes. Transform the stocks and bonds into yellowbacks. Then bring them here."
"Yellowbacks in — greenbacks out," said Major, with a smile.
"Exactly," added Judge. "That will make it worthwhile during the waiting period — when I am looking forward to that Eastern presidency."
"It's a marvel, Judge," declared Major. "A phony gag to build up a genuine reputation. The greatest idea ever — and it's gone over in a big way!"
Nodding, Judge glanced through the glass partition and saw four men entering the bank.
They were stalwart fellows, carrying revolvers in holsters strapped to their sides.
"Bronlon's special police," said Judge. "Come for the pay roll and the bonus money. I can see the armored car out in the street. Your job, Major."
This transaction, completed on a quiet Saturday, was of tremendous size. Bronlon's weekly pay roll was a matter of close to one hundred thousand dollars, including, as it did, pay rolls for lesser businesses with which the great financier was associated.
The armored car had called a week before, and had taken away that sum for distribution.
Now, in addition, the bonus money was going out. It mounted to a month's pay. In all, nearly half a million in cash was to leave in the custody of those four stalwart men.
Yet this immense transaction was merely a matter of routine. Stacks of crisp bills were ready in the vault. A final check-up alone was necessary. Judge went back to his newspaper.
When Bronlon's men were gone, Major reappeared in Judge's office, wearing a troubled look.
Judge glanced questioningly at his subordinate.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"Five hundred dollars short," declared Major, in a serious tone. "I can't figure it. I made it up with another package of bills; but it worries me."
"Probably a mistake yesterday."
"Not a chance, Judge. I don't make mistakes. That Bronlon dough was set — and I had all the packages checked numerically. One right out of the middle!"
Judge shrugged his shoulders.
"You can straighten it, Major," he said. "You've handled this perfectly to date—"
"I know it," responded Major. "That's why I don't like it. Right after we close for the day, I'm going to go over everything. If I find that packet in with the other money, I can straighten all my figures. But still, I won't like it."
"We can stand a little adulteration," said Judge with a smile.
"Sure," declared Major, "but it's not a good idea. I've kept the scale adjusted to a hair until now, I'm not worrying about the amount — it's the fact that bothers me. Five dollars, five hundred or five thousand — it's all the same."
"I'll go over things with you," said Judge. "This is the final check-up, Major. Tonight and tomorrow night will change matters. From then on, your job will be easy."
"Yes, Monday will put us where we want to be."
Major went away, and Judge occupied himself with other matters. Twelve o'clock arrived. The bank was closed. Judge waited a while in his office; then arose to go in search of Major. He met the straight-shouldered man at his own door, and Major pushed him back into the office.
"Look at these!" he exclaimed, in a low tone. "Look, Judge! Look!" He placed three gold certificates in Judge's hand. The gray-haired man stared at them in amazement. Each was for ten thousand dollars!
"Where did you get these?" queried Judge, in a tense tone.
"In with the big bills," declared Major. "I was checking on that five-hundred-dollar error. I looked among the big bills first, just to make sure that the packet wasn't there. I nearly dropped dead when I saw these, Judge!"
"Is there a deficit — or too much?"
"No. It tallies perfectly. But, Judge, I didn't know there could be one of these in Middletown — unless Bronlon had it. Thirty thousand bucks — in three perfectly good bills. Three of them, Judge! That's what knocks me. A ten-thousand-dollar bill coming in through Butcher or Ferret would be reported right away. Tell me — how did these here bills get in with the big notes?" Judge shook his head in perplexity.
"We can use them," he said. "But I agree with you that it looks dangerous. Take it easy, Major. Go out there quietly and bring Ferret and Butcher in here. Just a little conference, you know. We're closed for the day, and the clerks won't see anything unusual about it"
Major nodded and went away. He spoke to Butcher, and the big teller prepared to visit the president's office. Major gave the same instructions to Ferret. The stoop-shouldered man nodded and waited idly in his cage, in no hurry to obey the order.
While he was standing there, he noted an envelope that lay upon the floor beside his stool. He picked it up and saw that it was sealed.
Ferret was opening the envelope as he walked across the floor to Judge's office. He entered the door and joined the other three men. He stopped short as he saw the bills lying on Judge's desk.
"Ten grand each!" he exclaimed. "Where did those come from, Judge?"
"Through a teller's window," said Judge, seriously. "Butcher doesn't know anything about them. It is evident that you never saw them before, either."
"Golly," gasped Ferret. "If I had been handed one of those—" He shook his head and pointed to Major, indicating that the cashier would have known about the matter immediately.
"This beats me," declared Major. "The only way I can figure it is that some one got into the vault — last night per—"
"Don't be absurd, Major!" responded Judge. "If anyone had entered, more than five hundred dollars would be missing. People don't crack vaults to leave ten-thousand-dollar bills."
The three men stood facing him, all bewildered. Judge smiled in a confident manner.
"Don't worry," he said. "This only means that it would be unwise to wait longer. Tonight you will all be here. Finish the job then. Do not wait until Sunday. Everything goes out. You meet Deacon first, Major. Tell him about this. Then Butcher and Ferret will arrive later."
"Everything out," said Major.
"All but the securities," corrected Judge. "They wait."
"We still have a nice surplus," said Major, with a broad grin. "We've got the cream, but there will be milk right along."
Ferret, losing interest in the turn of conversation, glanced at the envelope in his hand. He ripped it open, and drew out the folded deposit slip. He opened the piece of paper, and stared at the reverse said. There, in neatly inscribed letters, was this message: