The door was hastily drawn open, and those who were near could see that nearly all the directors were clustered around it, straining their eyes to look at the paying teller. Most of them were pale and they called, in one voice, "Come here!" "Come in here at once!" "Fields!" "Mr. Fields!" "Sir, you are wanted!" "Step this way instantly!" Fields put down his pen, opened the tall iron gate which separated him from the counters, and walked rather quickly toward the den of lions. An opening was made for him in the group, and he passed through the door, and it was shut once more. He walked across the room to the fireplace. He took out his handkerchief, and, seizing a corner between a thumb and forefinger, slowly shook it open, and then turned around. "This note, sir! What does it mean?" cried the president, advancing upon him, waving the paper in his trembling hand. "Have you read it?" demanded Fields, in a loud voice. "Yes," said the president. He was astonished at Fields's manner. He cast a glance upon his fellow-directors. "Then what is the use of asking me what I mean? It is as plain as I can make it." "But it says--but it says," faltered the venerable gentleman, turning the paper to the light, "that you have only money enough to last until twelve o'clock. Your statement yesterday showed a balance to your credit of three hundred and fifty-two thousand dollars. That will last at least--" "But I have not got three hundred and seventy-seven thousand dollars. I have only got twenty-seven thousand dollars!" "But we counted three hundred and seventy-seven thousand dollars." "When?" "Yesterday." "Yesterday--yes. But not this morning." "Great God!" cried Stuart, thrusting himself forward, "what!--" He fixed his feeble eyes upon Fields, but could speak no further. His arms fell down by his sides, and he began to tremble. He did not have sufficient courage to ask the question. Somebody else did. "What has become of it?" "That I shall not tell you!" returned Fields, looking defiantly at one director after another. "But is it gone?" cried the chorus. Many of the faces that confronted Fields had become waxen. The little group was permeated with a tremor. "Yes, it is gone; I have taken it." "You have _taken_ it!" "_You_ have taken it!" "_You have taken it!_" The directors, overwhelmed and confounded, retreated from Fields as if they were in personal danger from him. "In Heaven's name, Fields!" exclaimed the president, "speak out! Tell us! What!--where!--the money! Come, man!" "You had better lock the door," said the teller; "some one will be coming in." One of the most feeble and aged of the board turned around and hastened, as fast as his infirm limbs would permit him, and threw the bolt with feverish haste, and then ran back again to hear. "Yes," said Fields, with deliberation, "I have taken the money. I have carried it away and hidden it where no one can lay hands upon it but myself." "Then--then, sir, you have stolen it!"