But there! The object lesson was coming at last. John could see nothing as yet, but the noise from the street told him. It was a very different noise from any other that had come through the window. The crowd, that big animal which had yelled a few hours back, was purring. The object lesson was slow to appear, but when it did-- “Come in here, Jackson,” John called. “Come here and look.” “By the jumping Julius Cæsar!” the cashier exclaimed, when he caught sight of it. “He’s organized a street parade! I wonder why he didn’t bring a brass band.” There was Jack Dorlin in front, marching with a gravity befitting the situation, bearing under his arm a bulky package secured by yards of heavy cord and splendid with red sealing-wax. And in single file behind him were nine other young men of assorted sizes, every one of them carrying a similar burden. As convoy, two to the man, guarding both flanks of the file with most impressive zeal, were twenty blue-coated policemen. There was some sort of lettering on each of the ten packages which the crowd seemed to be reading with great satisfaction. Straight through the crowd and up the steps came the procession, never once breaking its imposing formation till safe behind the rail in the bank. Then John read what was printed on the packages, “Atlantic National Bank, $50,000.” Taking Jack by the arm, he marched him into his private office. “You did that brown, Dorlin.” “It was partly Mr. Dawson’s idea,” said Jack. “Those packages were already sealed up. He painted the extra ciphers on them himself. I was afraid it would be a little stiff, besides being not quite accurate, but he said it would go down all right.” “Then you’ve only got fifty thousand there in all?” “Yes, you see this is only the direct attack. The rest is with the flank movement,” said Jack; “it ought to be here by now. Oh, there it is!” Jack reached the window just as a big, red, iron-grated American Express Company wagon pulled up before the bank and backed round to the sidewalk. Then he saw a wave of excitement go over the crowd when two men armed with Winchesters sprang down and ran to the rear end of the wagon. “Hurrah for the other million!” came a voice from somewhere, and a crashing cheer from the crowd was the answer. It had been raining before in a plodding, commonplace fashion, but now the water began coming down in continuous streams instead of detached drops, and the crowd huddled a little closer to watch the men who splashed back and forth across the sidewalk carrying lumpy canvas bags into the bank. “Ten thousand of it is in gold,” said Jack, “the rest is just about a ton of silver dollars. I thought you might want to open some of the bags.” They did open some of the bags, and poured streams of shining double-eagles over the counters. “You’d better pay in gold for a while,” John ordered the paying tellers. Then he went around and spoke to the men behind the receivers’ windows.