--the suitcase--Clayte's suitcase?" They sat up on the edge of
their chairs; bewildered, incredulous, hostile. Such a bunch is very
like a herd of cattle; anything they don't understand scares them. Even
the attorney studied young Gilbert with curious interest. I was mortal
glad I hadn't said what was the fact, that with the naming of the
enormous sum lost I was certain this was a sizable conspiracy with
long-laid plans. They were mistrustful enough as Whipple finally
questioned,

"Is this a bona-fide offer, Captain Gilbert?" and Dykeman came in after
him.

"A gambler's chance at stolen money--is that what you figure on buying,
sir? Is that it?" And heavy-faced Anson asked bluntly,

"Who's to set the price on it? You or us? There's practically a million
dollars in that suitcase. It belongs to the bank. If you've got an idea
that you can buy up the chance of it for about fifty percent--you're
mistaken. We have too much faith in Mr. Boyne and his agency for that.
Why, at this moment, one of his men may have laid hands on Clayte, or
found the man who planned--"

He stopped with his mouth open. I saw the same suspicion that had taken
his breath away grip momentarily every man at the table. A hint of it
was in Whipple's voice as he asked, gravely:

"Do you bind yourself to pursue Clayte and bring him, if possible, to
justice?"

"Bind myself to nothing. I'll give eight hundred thousand dollars for
that suitcase."

He fumbled in his pocket with an interrogative look at Whipple, and,
"May I smoke in here?" and lit a cigarette without waiting a reply.

Banking institutions take some pains to keep in their employ no young
men who are known to play poker; but a poker face at that board would
have acquired more than its share of dignity. As it was, you could see,
almost as though written there, the agonizing doubt running riot in
their faces as to whether Worth Gilbert was a young hero coming to the
bank's rescue, or a con man playing them for suckers. It was Knapp who
said at last, huskily,

"I think we should close with Captain Gilbert's offer." The cashier had
a considerable family, and I knew his recently bought Pacific Avenue
home was not all paid for.

"We might consider it," Whipple glanced doubtfully at his associates.
"If everything else fails, this might be a way out of the difficulty for
us."

If everything else failed! President Whipple was certainly no poker
player. Worth Gilbert gave one swift look abou