ke-up.

"You don't suppose either Henty or Filter would be capable of taking
that money you lost, do you?"

The teller laughed sarcastically. He was angry, and had it on the tip
of his tongue to say: "You're crazy!" but he thought it better to hold
his temper.

"Has the inspector been asking you about it?" he said.

"Well--yes," replied Penton; "he said I'd better ask all of you your
opinions, just as a matter of form. Not that he suspects anybody; he
thinks it probable that someone climbed in the window, between five and
six o'clock that day, and got it."

"Impossible," said Evan; "besides, they would have taken it all."

Penton's unpleasant eyes grew still more unpleasant.

"Good G--, man," he said, "the money's gone, and we've got to account
for it in some way!"

"We have accounted for it, by putting it up," answered the teller.
"What good can our speculations do head office?--they're not losing
anything anyway."

Without further palaver he went to his cage. He tried to focus on the
work before him, but his head swam. He saw pictures of himself and
Penton in a fight; himself equipped with new grips far superior to the
toe-hold in point of pain. He tried to figure out Penton's object in
asking the questions just asked. "We've got to account for it,"
afforded a clue. That was it: Penton wanted the staff to substantiate
any ridiculous explanation he should see fit to give the inspector. He
interviewed them so that he might be able to put words in their mouths,
when reporting to Castle. Evan realized that should he be asked any
questions by the inspector, he must tell more than would be good for
Penton.

The day's rush started in the regular market-day fashion. To begin
with, several dames brought in an amalgamation of barnyard soil and
spring ice in their boots and stood over the hot-air grates to thaw.
That simple act put the clerks in a market-day mood and gave the office
a market-day "atmosphere." Then things went spinningly. The bank and
the staff became a machine and the parts thereof, as if incited to
action by the combustion of certain gas-mixtures in the place.
Especially the teller's head took on the character of a metallic
organism: he could almost hear the wheels buzzing. Occasionally a cog
somewhere grated, as, for instance, when a drover brought in a cheque
for $500 and had to wait in line behind the wife of a neighbor whom he
hated, until she got $1.79 for her produce ticket, and