“Then we must help him,” Louie said. “Help him? We can’t disperse that rabble, and the entire scum of the town is here. Every depositor may ask for his money. No bank can stand that,” her father answered. “I don’t mean to disperse the rabble,” Louie replied. “Many of them are bringing their money to you, and as fast as they bring it we can take it through our back door into the back door of the other bank and keep it circulating.” Mr. Grey knew what she meant, and remembered having heard of one bank helping another in such an emergency and had thought it a big joke, and now the idea struck his sense of humor, and made him laugh. “By George, Lou,” he said, “that would be heaping coals of fire on the old reprobate’s head. He has never let a chance slip for a fling at me when he could get it. Why, on the balcony when making his speech he hinted that I was the instigator of the run. Yes, I’ll help him—but how, and keep it dark?” “I know. I’ll manage it,” Louie said. “As the money comes in at the front door and is recorded, I’ll take it through the rear door to the other bank. I’ll go now and tell Herbert.” She was off in a flash through the back door of her father’s bank, and into the rear office of the White Bank, where she found both Fred Lansing and Herbert conferring together. The latter was pale and trembling with anger and excitement, and looked perfectly dazed when she told why she was there. “I don’t quite understand. I’m all used up and could be knocked down with a feather,” he said. Louie saw he was no good, and, turning to Fred Lansing, she continued: “You know what I mean. I will bring the money in here. Somebody must be ready to take it and write down how much there is and whose it is, as it will have to go back to us when the run is over.” She had not been formally presented to Mr. Lansing, but it didn’t matter. He knew who she was, and looked at her in unbounded admiration for her forethought and bravery as well as for her beauty, which blazed with unwonted brilliancy in her excitement and earnestness. “I understand,” he said. “I’ll keep tally, while Herbert gets the money quietly into the cashier’s hands.” “All right,” Louie responded, and was off before Herbert fully realized what she meant to do. When Fred explained to him, he brightened at once, and hurrying into the front room told the cashier, who, having heard of something like it, nodded that he understood and would do his part to hoodwink the crowd again trying to get in. “Open the door, I tell you,” the judge said feebly, fanning himself with a newspaper and wiping the sweat from his face with his shirt sleeve.