he check was still
there, he drew it out to look at it. It was drawn on the Chemical Bank
and payable to bearer. A thousand dollars! He had never seen so much
money in his life. It was a question if they wouldn't arrest him as a
suspicious character when he presented it for payment. However, there
was no time to be lost. He must get the check cashed at once, buy an
outfit and secure his steamship passage.

After some difficulty he found the Chemical Bank, opposite the
Post-Office. It was a splendid building with a lofty dome of stained
glass, reminding him of a church. Making his way to the paying-teller's
window, he handed in the check. The teller, a gaunt, keen-eyed man with
spectacles, looked first at the check and then at Armitage. The latter's
appearance did not seem to fit the amount of money the check called for,
and a suspicious look came over his face. Eyeing the bearer severely, he
demanded sternly:

"Where did you get this?"

"From the man who drew it, of course," replied Armitage coolly. "Let me
have it in fifties and hundreds!"

Instead of complying with the request, the teller quickly touched an
electric bell. It was evidently a signal, for instantly a special
policeman attached to the Bank came up and took up a position near
Armitage. He made no attempt to interfere, but just remained on hand in
case he was wanted. Meantime the teller was already in telephonic
communication with Coxe and Willoughby.

"Is this Coxe and Willoughby?" asked the teller.

"This is Mr. Willoughby," came the answer.

"Have you drawn to-day a check for $1,000 payable to bearer?"

"I have."

"What does the bearer look like?"

"Tall, dark man, smooth face, dressed like a workingman. It's all
right. Pay it at once. Good day."

That was enough. The teller returned to his little window. Dismissing
the uniformed attendant, he turned to Armitage and in a tone as if he
had never for a moment doubted the genuineness of the check, asked
suavely:

"Fifties and hundreds, I think you said, Sir."

Rapidly counting out the bills, he passed them through the little
opening and turned to attend to the next man on the line.

Armitage slowly folded up bills, a grim smile of satisfaction. He had
enjoyed the situation hugely.

"Now for my steamship passage!" he muttered to himself.

Turning to the right as he re-entered Broadway, he walked about a mile
in the direction of the Battery until he came to Bowling Green, where
the steam