"You can't blame them for wanting their money, Cal, after all it's theirs, not yours, you know." "You're going to talk to them?" "I'm going to try." "It's a foolish and dangerous thing to do." "Nonsense. They are at least human. They have reason." A low howl of rage stirred the crowd without. A fight for place in the line had broken out. "Is that reason?" Bivens asked, cynically. "It's not even human. It's the growl of the beast that always sleeps beneath the skin." "I haven't lost faith in my fellow-men yet," was the dogged answer. "All right, good luck. I know your intentions are the best. You think it's your duty to yourself and the people. I'm sorry I can't stay to hear you. I've an important meeting this morning. I must go at once. I've instructed my detectives inside to stand by you if you need help." "Thanks, I won't need them." The little swarthy figure paused at the door. "Don't fool yourself into believing anybody in that crowd cares about the work you have done in their service. Scores of them are under deep personal obligations to me. But I'm leaving this building by my neighbour's roof this morning. You don't want to forget, Jim, that the rabble for whom even Christ lived and died, shouted in his face at last 'Crucify him! Crucify him!'" Stuart smiled at the incongruous farce of Bivens's familiarity with the Bible--yet there was no mistaking the fact of his emotions and the sincerity of his religious faith. The little financier had already begun to pose to himself as a martyr and a public benefactor. In spite of howling mobs and crushing markets he was busy now saving the credit of the Nation! He was one of the group of the king's council engaged in that important work. The "undesirable" had been eliminated and now a vast pool was being formed to support the market and kindly hold the securities until the people could get their breath and make money enough to buy them back at a profit. In due time he knew that his name would be enrolled with the king's as a patriot and public benefactor. Bivens lingered a moment as if reluctant to give up dissuading Stuart, waved him a friendly adieu at last, stepped into the elevator and left by the roof. It was yet fifteen minutes to ten, the hour for opening the bank's doors, and Stuart decided to address the crowd immediately. In accordance with Bivens's instructions the cashier opened the bronze doors and squeezed through, admitting Stuart and two detectives. At the sight of the cashier a thrill of horror swept the crowd--half-groan, half-sigh, half-cry, inarticulate, inhuman, beastly in its grovelling fear. "Great God!" "They're going to suspend!" "It's all over!" The groans melted into broken curses and exclamations and died into silence as the cashier lifted his hand.