“Go in there, if you like,” he said to himself, apostrophizing the assistant cashier; “go and stay as long as you please and steal the furniture; I’m tired of watching you.” But in spite of himself, he did watch. Again and again he forced himself back to his work, but he was aware all the while that Jervis Curtin had not yet come out of that door. And after half an hour in which he did about ten minutes’ work, he gave up trying, and slipping from his high stool he walked slowly toward the door at the other end of the aisle. * * * * * When John Bagsbury had come in from lunch the day before, he had interrupted Curtin before he had told Sponley anything beyond the fact of Pickering’s visit to the bank. Acting on the hint Sponley had given him, Curtin at once set about to find out what was the nature of Pickering’s business with the bank. It was a simple matter for an officer in his position to discover that Pickering had made a deposit of one hundred thousand dollars, and had given his note for an additional five hundred thousand. That was complete enough information for anybody so far as Curtin could see, and he had given it to Sponley when the speculator came to see him that evening, with a good deal of self-congratulation upon his success. But Sponley was far from satisfied. “What collateral did he put up?” he demanded. “None, I suppose. His note does not mention any collateral. It isn’t made out on the sort of form we use when we take collateral.” “That doesn’t mean anything except that Bagsbury doesn’t want anybody to know what kind of security it was. That’s what I want you to find out for me.” “I don’t see how I’m going to do it,” Curtin remonstrated. “If he’s gone to all that trouble to keep us from finding out, it isn’t likely that he’s left it around where anybody can see it. Probably it’s not with the other collateral at all.” “Probably not,” Sponley assented. “It’s ten to one,” the other continued, “that he’s put it somewhere among his private papers.” “Well,” said Sponley, “doesn’t that simplify matters?” Curtin glanced at him, then smiled uneasily in reply. “What do you mean?” “Only that if you know where a thing is likely to be, you stand a fair chance of finding it by looking there.” Curtin was frightened, and he laughed. “On the other hand,” he said, “if one can’t look there, he’s not so likely to find it.” “Why can’t you?” Sponley asked quickly. “You know where he keeps his private papers, don’t you?” Curtin answered coolly. Everything the man did was something of a pose. He posed to himself. Just now he really believed that he was cool. “If that suggestion is made as a jest,” he said, “it seems to me rather unprofitable. If you mean it seriously, it’s an insult.”