"There is to be an important meeting of the Directors to-day, and some
of the gentlemen are already coming in. Mr. Sylvester is not accustomed
to keep us waiting."

"I don't know, I am sure," returned Bertram, remembering with an
accession of uneasiness, the abruptness with which his uncle had left
the entertainment the evening before.

"Shall I telegraph to the house?"

"No, that is not necessary. Besides Folger says he passed him on
Broadway this morning."

"Going down street with a valise in his hand," that gentlemen quietly
put in. Folger was the teller. "He was looking very pale and didn't see
me when I nodded."

"What time was that?" asked Bertram.

"About twelve; when I went out to lunch."

A quick gasp sounded at their side, followed by a hurried cough.
Turning, Bertram encountered for the fifth time the eyes of Hopgood. He
had entered unperceived by the small door that separated the inner
inclosure from the outer, and was now standing very close to them, eying
with side-long looks the safe at their back, the faces of the gentleman
speaking, yes, and even the countenances of the clerks, as they bent
busily over their books.

"Did you ring, sir?" asked he, catching Bertram's look of displeasure.

"No."

The man seemed to feel the rebuke implied in this short response, and
ambled softly away. But in another moment he was stopped by Bertram.

"What is the matter with you to-day, Hopgood? Can you have anything of
real importance on your mind; anything connected with my uncle?"

The janitor started, and looked almost frightened. "Be careful what you
say," whispered he; then with a keen look at Mr. Wheelock just then on
the point of entering the directors' room, he was turning to escape by
the little door just mentioned, when it opened and Mr. Stuyvesant came
in. With a look almost of terror the janitor recoiled, throwing himself
as it were between the latter and the door of the safe; but recovering
himself, surveyed the keen quiet visage of the veteran banker with a
rolling of his great eyes absolutely painful to behold. Mr. Stuyvesant,
who was somewhat absorbed in thought, did not appear to notice the
agitation he had caused, and with just a hurried nod followed Mr.
Wheelock into the Directors' room. Instantly the janitor drew himself up
with an air of relief, and shortly glancing at the clock which lacked a
few minutes yet of the time fixed for the meeting, slided hastily away
from Bertram's deta