e found the cashier still sitting
with Mr. Graylock.

The latter was watching for his coming, since his little eyes fastened
upon the boy immediately.

It appeared that he had mentioned something to Mr. Goodwyn pertaining to
a matter that Dick would be apt to know about; which of course had
resulted in the boy being called upon to explain.

This he was able to do in a satisfactory manner, for after all it was a
trivial matter, though considering the feeling that animated the
merchant it might have become serious had Dick been less careful how he
handled the messages entrusted to his charge.

"That is all right, Richard. I can see that you did the proper thing. If
there is any fault it does not lie at your door," remarked Mr. Goodwyn,
smiling.

Dick was more than pleased at these few words of praise from this
source, the very first he had ever received from Mr. Goodwyn; his face
flushed, and he drew a long breath as if inclined to thank the cashier,
but realizing that this was not called for he turned to depart.

"By the way, Mr. Goodwyn, don't you think it would be wise to have this
packet placed in the safe right away? It represents too much to me just
now to take any possible chance of losing it," exclaimed Mr. Graylock,
eagerly.

"Why, certainly, if it will ease your mind any, Archibald. I meant to do
it myself just as soon as you had gone. Here, Richard, be sure and place
this in the vault just where you put that package for me yesterday," and
Dick, turning at the door accepted the large buff envelope that had a
stout rubber band around it to keep the contents intact.

He was impelled somehow to look quickly up at Mr. Graylock as he turned
to pass out of the door.

Again that strange shiver shot through him from head to feet as he saw
the grim smile that appeared for just a single instant on that thin
face, and then vanished.

He went immediately into the bank vault, which was open, though the
inner one had been fastened when the tellers left their stations, and
carefully placed the packet in the exact spot he had been told.

Then he returned to the little room back of the offices to finish his
lonely lunch; for Pliny was away from his desk three days now with an
attack of summer complaint--nothing serious, but keeping him at home
for a short season.

Five minutes later he saw Mr. Graylock pass out.

Then one of the tellers returned and the cashier went home to his
dinner.

During the balance of t