d understand. Mr. Galbraith
took a firmer hold upon his self-possession and trusted that some happy
chance might yet intervene to save him.

But chance did not intervene. There was a goodly number of customers in
the public space, but not one of the half-dozen or more who nodded to
the president or passed the time of day with him saw the eye-appeal
which was the only one he dared to make. On the short walk around to the
paying teller's window, the robber kept even step with his victim, and
try as he would, Andrew Galbraith could not summon the courage to forget
the pistol muzzle menacing him in its coat-covered ambush.

At the paying wicket there was only one customer, instead of the group
the president had hoped to find; a sweet-faced young woman in a modest
travelling hat and a gray coat. She was getting a draft cashed, and when
she saw them she would have stood aside. It was the robber who
anticipated her intention and forbade it with a courteous gesture;
whereat she turned again to the window to conclude her small transaction
with the teller.

The few moments which followed were terribly trying ones for the
gray-haired president of the Bayou State Security. None the less, his
brain was busy with the chanceful possibilities. Failing all else, he
was determined to give the teller a warning signal, come what might. It
was a duty owed to society no less than to the bank and to himself. But
on the pinnacle of resolution, at the instant when, with the robber at
his elbow, he stepped to the window and presented the check, Andrew
Galbraith felt the gentle pressure of the pistol muzzle against his
side; nay, more; he fancied he could feel the cold chill of the metal
strike through and through him.

So it came about that the fine resolution had quite evaporated when he
said, with what composure there was in him: "You'll please give me
currency for that, Johnson."

The teller glanced at the check and then at his superior; not too
inquisitively, since it was not his business to question the president's
commands.

"How will you have it?" he asked; and it was the stranger at Mr.
Galbraith's elbow who answered.

"One thousand in fives, tens, and twenties, loose, if you please; the
remainder in the largest denominations, put up in a package."

The teller counted out the one thousand in small notes quickly; but he
had to leave the cage and go to the vault for the huge remainder. This
was the crucial moment of peril for the