next evening.

CHAPTER XXXII

THE RUN ON THE BANK

It was the day after the events just recorded that Keith's deal was
concluded. The attack on him and the attempt made by Wickersham and
Kestrel to break up his deal had failed, and the deeds and money
were passed.

Keith was on his way back to his office from his final interview with
the representative of the syndicate that had bought the properties. He
was conscious of a curious sensation, partly of exhilaration, partly of
almost awe, as he walked through the crowded streets, where every one
was bent on the same quest: gold. At last he had won. He was rich. He
wondered, as he walked along, if any of the men he shouldered were as
rich as he. Norman and Ferdy Wickersham recurred to him. Both had been
much wealthier; but Wickersham, he knew, was in straits, and Norman was
in some trouble. He was unfeignedly glad about Wickersham; but the
recollection of Norman clouded his face.

It was with a pang that he recalled Norman's recent conduct to him--a
pang that one who had always been his friend should have changed so; but
that was the way of the world. This reflection, however, was not
consoling.

He reached his office and seated himself at his desk, to take another
look at his papers. Before he opened them he rose and locked the door,
and opening a large envelope, spread the papers out on the desk
before him.

He thought of his father. He must write and tell him of his success.
Then he thought of his old home. He remembered his resolution to restore
it and make it what it used to be. But how much he could do with the
money it would take to fit up the old place in the manner he had
contemplated! By investing it judiciously he could double it.

Suddenly there was a step outside and a knock at his door, followed by
voices in the outer office. Keith rose, and putting his papers back in
his pocket, opened the door. For a second he had a mingled sensation of
pleasure and surprise. His father stood there, his bag clutched in his
hand. He looked tired, and had aged some since Keith saw him last; but
his face wore the old smile that always illumined it when it rested
on his son.

Keith greeted him warmly and drew him inside. "I was just thinking of
you, sir."

"You would not come to see me, so I have come to see you. I have heard
from you so rarely that I was afraid you were sick." His eyes rested
fondly on Gordon's face.

"No; I have been so busy; that is all.