"Got them? Of course not, how could I?" replied the paymaster. "There they are. . . ."
His voice trailed off into nothingness as he looked at the empty counter.
"I must have dropped them," said Winston as he turned. He glanced back at the rear rack where his main stock of currency was piled. He. stood paralyzed for a moment and then reached under the counter and pushed a button.
The bank resounded instantly to the clangor of gongs and huge steel grills shot into place with a clang, sealing all doors and preventing anyone from entering or leaving the bank. The guards sprang to their stations with drawn weapons and from the inner offices the bank officials came swarming out. The cashier, followed by two men, hurried to the paying teller's cage.
"What is it, Mr. Winston?" he cried.
"I've been robbed!" gasped the teller.
"Who by? How?" demanded the cashier.
"I—I don't know, sir," stammered the teller. "I was counting out Mr. Trier's payroll, and after I had stacked the twenties I turned to get the tens. When I turned back the twenties were gone."
"Where had they gone?" asked the cashier.
"I don't know, sir. Mr. Trier was as surprised as I was, and then I turned back, thinking that I had knocked them off the counter, and I saw at a glance that there was a big hole in my back racks. You can see yourself, sir."
The cashier turned to the paymaster.
"Is this a practical joke, Mr. Trier?" he demanded, sharply.
"Of course not," replied the paymaster. "Winston's grill was closed. It still is. Granted that I might have reached the twenties he had piled up, how could I have gone through a grill and taken the rest of the missing money without his seeing me? The money disappeared almost instantly. It was there a moment before, for I noticed when Winston took the twenties from his rack that it was full."
"But someone must have taken it," said the bewildered cashier. "Money doesn't walk off of its own accord or vanish into thin air—"
A bell interrupted his speech.
"There are the police," he said with an air of relief. "I'll let them in."
THE smaller of the two men who had followed the cashier from his office when the alarm had sounded stepped forward and spoke quietly. His voice, was low and well pitched yet it carried a note of authority and power that held his auditors' attention while he spoke. The voice harmonized with the man. The most noticeable point about him was the inconspicousness of his voice and manner, yet there was a glint of steel in his gray eyes that told of enormous force in him.
"I don't believe that I would let them in for a few moments, Mr. Rogers," he said. "I think that we are up against something a little different from the usual bank robbery."
"But, Mr. Carnes," protested the cashier, "we must call in the police in a case like this, and the sooner they take charge the better chance there will be of apprehending the thief."
"Suit yourself," replied the little man with a shrug of his shoulders. "I merely offered my advice."
"Will you take charge, Mr. Carnes?" asked the cashier.
"I can't supersede the local authorities in a case like this," replied Carnes. "The secret service is primarily interested in the suppression of counterfeiting and the enforcement of certain federal statutes, but I will be glad to assist the local authorities to the best of my ability, provided they desire my help. My advice to you would be to keep out the patrolmen who are demanding admittance and get in touch with the chief of police. I would ask that his best detective together with an expert finger-print photographer be sent here before anyone else is ad-
