Jack had been promoted to the remittance ledgers; his desk stood at the rear end of an aisle which ran nearly the length of the room, behind the rank of tellers’ cages and in front of the vaults. At the other end of the aisle was the door which opened on the two private offices. Just before this door stood a large chest of drawers where was kept a large part of the bank’s collateral securities. This chest was, of course, directly in Jack Dorlin’s line of vision, and when, a few minutes after Curtin’s arrival, he raised his eyes from his work, he saw the assistant cashier searching busily through one of the drawers. That was nothing, and his eyes fell to his work again, but when he glanced up, Curtin was still there. Fifteen--twenty minutes passed; Curtin was going through that chest systematically from top to bottom. Jack flung down his pencil impatiently, for again he had caught himself in the act of speculating on the old theme, on Curtin’s motives. There was no possible reason why Curtin shouldn’t look over the collateral if he chose; there might be some excellent reason why he should. But then, why had he come early? Why didn’t he set some one else to finding what he wanted? Why could he not wait until Jackson came down? Jackson knew everything there was in that chest. At that moment Hillsmead walked past his desk, and Jack grinned to see him making straight for Curtin. They talked but a moment, and Curtin walked away to his own desk, while Hillsmead retraced his steps toward the rear of the bank. He stopped to say to Jack:-- “That man’s a regular fool. He’s been looking in that collateral box for half an hour; but when I asked him if I could help him find anything he was looking for, he said he was just as much obliged, but he’d found it, and then he went away. I’d like to know what he was looking for.” “Postage-stamps, maybe,” Jack suggested. “Oh, no, he wouldn’t look there for postage-stamps. They don’t keep anything but collateral in that box. When he wants to mail things, he just gives ’em to an office boy.” Jack often wished that he had enough leisure during the day to enjoy Hillsmead properly. He used to chuckle over him in the evening, and quote him to Dick; but then there were other things to think about in the evening. It was growing late that same afternoon, long after closing time, and concentration on columns of figures was becoming difficult, when Jack, glancing up, saw the cashier come out of the office with his street coat on, which meant that he was going home. Then a few minutes later he saw John Bagsbury follow him, and he wished his own work was done so that he could go, too--just where John Bagsbury was going, and have an hour with Dick before dinner-time. He sat there in a brown study until recalled to himself by seeing Curtin go through the doorway into the outer private office and then, turning to the right, enter John Bagsbury’s room.