The next few people to reach the windows had very small amounts of money in the bank, and they departed, clinking their two or three pieces of yellow metal with great satisfaction. But presently there came a man whose account was more than a thousand dollars. Fifty double-eagles are not only heavy, their bulk, compared with the capacity of the average pocket, is considerable. The man gathered them up in a helpless sort of a way and tried with no great success to stow them inconspicuously about his person, while the crowd of depositors waiting their turn made derisive comments upon his plight. Finally, with the air of a man who has just made a momentous decision, he walked to the receiving teller’s window. “I believe I’ll put it back after all,” he said, “I guess the bank’s safe enough.” “You can’t put it back to-night,” the teller answered politely. “It’s too late, after three o’clock. The bank’s closed.” He had to say it twice before the man understood, and to save future explanations, perhaps, he said it loudly enough for all around to hear. “But what am I going to do?” the man asked. “I don’t know,” said the teller. “Get yourself arrested,” called somebody in the crowd. For by that time it was a crowd, the line had melted away. They had not waited all those hours for their money with any intention of putting it back in the bank that night; but to discover that they could not put it back, that the bank could not be induced to take it back that night, gave the matter a different color. A few of the more independent ones stepped boldly out of the line; then, after an irresolute half minute of staring at the great piles of coin and paper, the others followed, and men and women streamed sheepishly out through the wide open doors into the already empty street. “I’m going, too,” said John Bagsbury. “The show’s over. I’ve had enough.” Curtin looked as though he had had enough, too; but he waited till all the money was safely put away, and he could lock up the vaults. CHAPTER XIX THE FOURTH DAY