“That doesn’t tell him too much, does it?” he asked, smiling. Nevertheless he settled himself to some serious thinking. Though it did not at all disconcert him, John’s note showed him that he must alter his plans. Up to this time his sole idea had been, as John had foreseen, to rouse the directors and the large stockholders in an opposition sufficiently determined to compel the Banker to drop Pickering. That had been his motive for the attack on the bank in this morning’s _Herald_. But between the lines of the note John had told him plainly that he had fathomed his plans, and that fully realizing the pressure which would be put upon him he was not to be frightened nor coerced. Yet somehow the bulldog must be made to let go. “That’s the whole trick,” said Sponley, aloud. “The minute Bagsbury is put out of the fight, I can handle Pickering. John’s the only one I’ve got to give my time to.” “Is he in as deeply as that?” she asked. “Why the half million that Pickering got from him is a comparatively small part of the deal, of course; but he’ll give him the other half of it before the week’s out if I know John Bagsbury. He’ll see him through now, if he can. You see, the moral effect of having a big bank behind you is immense. It counts with the outside trading. Do you remember the time I first met John--took him out to lunch--I told you I was building a cyclone cellar in a bank? I built it all right, but the wrong man got in. “Yes,” he went on after a moment of silence; “it’s John Bagsbury who’s holding up that market. When he gets out from under, it’ll come down. You don’t have to knock out all the props, you know; one’ll do the business.” “But won’t he have to if all the directors--” “Oh, most anybody else would, but John’s different. I sized him up right the first time I saw him. He knows what he’s in for, and he’s decided he’ll stay. I’m afraid it’ll take more than that Board of Directors to shake him out. The depositors--” He paused, and for a while sat thinking. “If something should scare the depositors into making a run on the bank--you see only about half its business is commercial business; the rest is savings. The big depositors wouldn’t scare. They’re stockholders mostly, and they know the old bank’s as solid as a fort. But if the little fellows who’ve got their savings in there once get the idea that it’s shaky, they’ll come, every man, woman, and child of ’em, and get their money out inside of twenty-four hours. He’d have to shut up for a while if they did that. They won’t scare, though,” he said, rising; “and I don’t know that I’d want them to. I hope the directors’ll do the trick; but if they can’t, we’ll find some other way.” He walked over to the telephone and called up Jervis Curtin.