“Don’t say anything more over the ’phone; it isn’t safe. Anyway, I want to talk with you. You say Bagsbury’s gone out to lunch? Do you know where? Well, you come right off, as quick as you can, to the Eagle Café, in the Arcadia building. Yes, I’ll be there in one of the private rooms.” Sponley heard or guessed enough from what Curtin told him to make him think that the bank was in no such desperate condition as he had hoped. He had been winning all day; he was almost sure that he would be able to finish Pickering within the first hour next morning, but he was unwilling to take any chances. If John should so thoroughly break up the run this afternoon that it would not be resumed to-morrow morning, the Bull might recover his lost ground and compel him to do the work all over again. It would be risky, riskier than it had been before, to get people to talking once more and create another run on the bank. And so he decided to play his last card. It was an old notion of his which Curtin had recalled to his mind just a week ago, when he said he had not been hired to crack safes. It seemed to him then too theatrical to be worth considering seriously; but as the days went by, and the fight grew hotter, and one plan after another failed to dislodge John Bagsbury from his position supporting Pickering, the idea came back to him and he asked himself, Why not, as a last resort. Well, it was now or not at all. Curtin, he reflected, would probably not relish the job, but that was not an important consideration. The assistant cashier, however, surprised his employer by entering into the scheme with a good deal of gusto. Had Sponley known his man less thoroughly, he would have suspected the genuineness of this enthusiasm, and would have conceived the idea that Curtin meant to play him false. But the Bear had no misgivings. Curtin might plan a dozen treacheries in an hour, but when the moment of action came, he would obey orders. Sponley cut short his guessing as to just what the effect of the trick would be. “You’d better get right back to the bank, and don’t telephone to me, whatever happens. Don’t try to communicate with me in any way either to-night or to-morrow morning. It isn’t safe. If I want to find out anything, I’ll contrive to get word to you.” Curtin nodded and left the room. Just outside the door he hesitated a moment, then walked nervously over to the bar and ordered a drink of whiskey. He watched the man pouring it into the glass, and did not see who had come up beside him until Sponley laid his hand upon his arm. “You don’t want that, do you? Don’t you think you’ve had enough this afternoon?” Curtin laughed weakly. “It won’t hurt me. I want something to brace me up.” “That won’t brace you up. You’re excited enough already.” “There’s no harm in this one. I won’t take any more.” The barkeeper had pushed the glass toward him, and he raised it toward his lips. “Put that down!” The glass halted.