The presiding genius of the South African Industrial found his way into the meeting. He was sorry to trouble them: he would not have come unless he had been absolutely bound to. But there was a run on his bank, and he wanted £2,000,000 immediately. As to security---- One of the grave financiers laughed aloud. It seemed an awful thing to do in that solemn and decorous parlour, but nobody seemed to notice. But there was a general consensus of opinion that the money must be forthcoming. If one sound bank was allowed to topple over, goodness only knew where the catastrophe might end. "You will have to do with £500,000 for the present," the chairman said. "There are sure to be applications. You must be diplomatic; _festina lente_, you know." "If I could keep open straight away until----" "Madness. Keep to your regulations. Close at four o'clock. Delay is everything." The big clock in the room boomed the hour of four. It was as if some long-drawn mental agony had suddenly ceased. The manager of the South African Industrial fought his way back to the offices with a little comfort at the back of his mind. There was a lull in the roar as he appeared. He took advantage of it. His courage had come back to him now. "Close the doors," he said sharply. "It is past four o'clock." [Illustration: A cashier whipped a revolver out from a drawer.] The mob yelled its protest. A big man climbed over the trellis along the counter. Just for a moment it looked like a lawless riot, but a cashier whipped a revolver out from a drawer, and as the big man looked down the blue bore his courage failed him. There was no further rush, but at, the same time there was no disposition on the part of the crowd to retire. "We are closed for the day," the manager said with considerable coolness. "You can't expect me to stay here all night merely because you have taken it into your heads to want your money all at once. Come to-morrow and you shall all be paid." A derisive howl followed. The manager whispered something to one of the clerks and the latter slipped out. Presently there was a commotion at the doors, and half-a-dozen helmets topped the crowd. There was a swaying movement till the long counter creaked again, an oath or two, uplifted sticks and the smashing of a policeman's helmet. For the next few minutes there was something in the nature of a free fight; blows were freely exchanged, and more than one face bore traces of blood. But there is always something besides physical force behind law and order, and gradually the mob turned back. Gradually the counting-house was cleared and the iron shutters let down. But the City did not clear. The wildest rumours were in the air. Other banks, doing a more or less large business in the way of withdrawals, had followed the example of the South African Industrial, and this had not tended to restore public confidence. It was pretty clear that every house would have to face a similar run on the morrow.