There was a knock on the door. The special police officer of the bank entered with Shaffer, who laid a package on the desk.
"This is correct, Shaffer," Howell acknowledged as he ran quickly through the bills. He stepped to the door. "Send Mr. Gordon here," he commanded.
"You were in time to save Gordon and Ford, Trant," the banker continued. "I shall merely dismiss Ford. Shaffer is a thief and must be punished. Old Gordon—"
He stopped and turned quickly as the old cashier entered without knocking.
"Gordon," said the acting-president, pointing to the packet of money on the desk, "I have sent for you to return to you this money—the ten thousand dollars which you gave to the bank—and to tell you that your son was not a thief, though this gentleman has just saved us, I am afraid, from making him one. In saving the boy, Gordon, he had to discover and reveal to me that you have worn yourself out in our service. But, I shall see that you can retire when father returns, with a proper pension."
The old cashier stared at his young employer dully for a moment; his dim eyes dropped, uncomprehending, to the packet of money on the desk. Then he came forward slowly, with bowed head, and took it.
