As soon as Bagsbury’s bank should open to-morrow, he would draw all of his money out of it. Then he would begin hammering away at Pickering, selling him both cash and September lard in enormous quantities. Just as the great bull trader was weakening, there would come the rumor and in a moment the news of the run on the bank. When that happened, it would all be over but the shouting--and the paying up. Pickering would pay. He would arrange with his creditors, and go back to the soap business, and after a few years, if he lived so long, he would try this same fool trick again. And John, there was no doubt that Bagsbury and Company’s Bank would have to suspend payment. When they begin to run a savings bank, it is very unlikely that they will stop; and unless they stop, the closing of the doors is simply a matter of time. We speak of a bank’s credit as being solid, but that is only a comparative term. There is nothing else which so light a touch will set fluttering. A whispered question will do it; an assertion is unnecessary. Just, “Do you know if it’s true that they are in trouble?” A confounding of two similar names in some stupid mind will do it. An office boy’s mistake in leaving the “Bank Closed” sign hanging a half an hour too long in the door will do it. Some one takes alarm, then there are three--then twenty--enough to form a line, to attract attention from the street, and, except for quickness, and nerve, and resource, and luck, on the part of those in command, there is no stopping until the money is gone. Sponley had told Cartwright and Meredith enough to start a run on any bank; indeed, as he thought it over, he felt somewhat uneasy lest he had done more than was necessary. It would be rough on John. Sponley wondered if it would break his nerve. CHAPTER XIV GOOD INTENTIONS As Jack Dorlin drew near Bagsbury’s house that same Sunday afternoon, he felt a growing misgiving as to the wisdom of going in. He had not seen Dick since Wednesday night, when John Bagsbury and Mrs. Sponley and Dick herself had combined to bring about his utter defeat. Since then he had set out a dozen times with the determination to see her at once and come to some sort of understanding with her, and he had as often turned back, convinced that some other time would suit his purpose better. But Sunday afternoon itself came not more regularly to the Bagsburys than did Jack Dorlin, and having told himself that whatever else Dick thought of him she must not have a chance to think that he was sulky, he was now turning the Bagsburys’ corner just at his accustomed time. He could see clearly that he should have come when he would have had more chance of seeing Dick alone,--people were sure to be dropping in to-day,--and when he came opposite the steps he felt a boyish impulse to walk straight by. He hesitated a moment, in a pitiable state of indecision, then walked resolutely up the steps. Simultaneously with his ringing the bell, Dick opened the door.