Stories by American Authors Volume I Part 18

Fields was now an entire master of the situation. The board was filled with consternation; its members conferred together in frightened whispers.

"But," pursued Fields, "do you properly understand _your_ situation? My desk is virtually without money. My a.s.sistant at this instant may discover that he has not sufficient funds to pay the check he has in his hand. In a moment more the street may be in possession of the facts.

Besides the present danger, have you forgotten the controller?" Nothing more could now add to the alarm that filled the room.

"What shall we do, Fields? We cannot go under; we cannot--"

"I will tell you."

The room became silent again. All leaned forward to listen. Some placed their hands behind their ears.

"I do not think that the drafts upon us to-day will amount to eighty thousand dollars. You might draw that sum from the receiving teller, but that would occasion remark. I advise you to draw from your private accounts elsewhere one hundred thousand dollars, and quietly place it upon my counter. I would do it without an instant's delay."

"But what guarantee have we that you will not appropriate that also?"

"I give you my word," replied Fields, with a smile.

"And to what end do you advise us to keep the bank intact?"

"That we may have time to arrange terms."

"Terms--for what?"

"For a compromise."

"Ah-ha!"

Here was a patch of blue sky--a glimpse of the sun. Fields was not insensible to moderation, after all.

"What do you propose?" eagerly demanded three voices.

"I think you had first better insure yourselves against suspension," was the reply.

In ten minutes one of the directors hurriedly departed, with five checks in his wallet. These were the contributions of his fellows. The president pa.s.sed out to see how matters stood at the paying teller's desk. No more drafts had been presented, and the nineteen thousand dollars were still undisturbed. He returned rea.s.sured. He locked the door again.

"Now, sir," said he to the paying teller, "let us go on."

"Very well," was the reply. "I think you all perceive by this time the true position of affairs. I possess three hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and your bank has lost that sum. I have detailed the benefits which will accrue to me, and the trouble which will in all likelihood accrue to you. It will be unpleasant for you to throw your selves upon the mercies of your stockholders. Stockholders are hard-hearted people.

Each one of you will, in case this matter is discovered, find his financial credit and his reputation for sagacity much impaired; and, besides this, there will be incurred the dangers of a 'run' upon you, to say nothing of the actual loss to the inst.i.tution, which will have to be made good to the last dollar. But let us see if we cannot do better.

Notwithstanding the fact that I have fully made up my mind to go to prison, I cannot deny that _not_ to go to prison would be an advantage.

Therefore, if you will promise me immunity from prosecution, I will return to you to-morrow morning a quarter of a million dollars. I ask you to give me a reply within five minutes. The proposition is a bare one, and is sufficiently plain. I shall require your faith as directors and individuals, and in return I will give my pledge, as a robber of the highest grade--a bond which perhaps is as good as any that can be made under the circ.u.mstances."

The directors no sooner saw that it lay within their power to regain five-sevenths of their money than they began, almost with one voice, threaten Fields with punishment if he did not return the whole.

"Gentlemen," cried the paying teller, interrupting their exclamations, "I must impose one more condition. It is that you do not mention this affair again--that you keep the whole matter secret, and not permit it to be known beyond this apartment that I have had any other than the most agreeable relations with you. All that is imperative. There remain but two more minutes. The president will signify to me your decision."

The time elapsed. Fields put his watch into his pocket.

"Well, sir?" said he.

"We accept the terms," replied the president, bowing stiffly.

Fields also bowed. A silence ensued. Presently a director said to Fields:

"May I ask you what led you to this step?"

"Sir," replied the teller, with severity, "you are encroaching upon our contract. I may speak of this affair, but you have no right to."

Then he turned to the board:

"Do you wish me to go back to my work?"

There was a consultation. Then the president said:

"If you will be so kind."

Fields complied.

The business of the day went forward as usual. The teller's counter-desk was supplied with money, and no suspicion was aroused among his fellows.

As each director went out of the bank, he stopped at Fields's window, and addressed some set remark to him upon business matters; and so intimate did the relations between them seem that the clerks concluded that the lucky man was about to be made cas.h.i.+er, and they began to pay him more respect.

In the intervening night there again recurred to the directors the enormity of the outrage to which they had been subjected. The incident of recovering so large a part of what they had originally supposed was gone had the effect of making them partially unmindful of the loss of the smaller sum which the teller finally agreed to accept in place of punishment. But in the lapse between the time of the robbery and the time of the promised rest.i.tution, their appreciation of their position had time to revive again, and when they a.s.sembled on the next morning to receive the money from Fields, they were anxious and feverish.

Would he come? Was he not at this moment in Canada? Would a man who could steal one hundred thousand dollars return a quarter of a million?

Absurd!

Every moment one of them went to the door to see if Fields had appeared.

The rest walked about, with their hands behind them, talking together incoherently. The air was full of doubts. The teller usually came at a quarter past nine, but the hour arrived without the man. Intolerable suspense!

Two or three of the directors made paths for themselves amid the chairs, and anxiously traversed them. Slavin took a post beside a window and gazed into the street. Debritt, with his right hand in his bosom, and with his left grasping the upper rail of a seat, looked fixedly into the coals. Stuart sipped at a goblet of water, but his trembling hand caused him to spill its contents upon the floor. No one now ventured to speak except in a whisper; it seemed that a word or a loud noise must disturb the poise of matters. The clock ticked, the blue flames murmured in the grate, and the pellets of sand thrown up by the wind rattled against the windows.

But yet there were no signs of the paying teller.

Was it possible that this immense sum of money was _gone?_ Could it be true that they must report this terrible thing to the world? Had they permitted themselves to become the lieutenants to a wily scoundrel? Were they thus waiting silent and inactive while he was being borne away at the speed of the wind, out of their reach?

All at once Fields came in at the door.

He was met with a gladness that was only too perceptible. Every gentleman emitted a sigh of relief, and half started, as if to take the delinquent by the hand.

Fields had expected this. He was shrewd enough to act before the feeling had evaporated.

He advanced to the table. The directors hastened like schoolboys to take their accustomed places. They bent upon the teller's face the most anxious looks.

"Gentlemen," said he, "I believe that you fully understand that I return this large sum of money to you at my own option. You recognize the fact that most men would endure, for instance, an imprisonment of ten years rather than lose the control of a quarter of a million of dollars."

The directors hastened to signify "Yes!"

"But," continued Fields, taking several large envelopes from his inner pockets, "I shall be content with less. There is the sum I mentioned."