He tore open the envelope Dick carried from the cashier and hastily
scanned the contents.
There was a strained look on his seamed face, and a glitter in his eyes
that Dick could not but think boded ill toward some one, and he rejoiced
that fortune had not thrown his daily lot under the finger of this petty
tyrant.
"Tell Mr. Goodwyn that I will be right over, and bring the securities
with me," he said, in a voice that seemed to tremble a little with
eagerness or some emotion.
"Yes, sir. Anything else?" asked the boy, respectfully.
Mr. Graylock looked at him long and earnestly; it seemed to Dick that
something cruel and sinister was creeping over his hard face, and
despite himself he shivered as though a piece of ice had suddenly been
applied to his flesh.
"That is all," said the merchant, finally, like a man making up his
mind.
Dick went out.
He could not understand his feelings, but it seemed as though he must
have had some connection with the thoughts passing through that shrewd
mind of Mr. Graylock while the other was standing there a full minute
and looking directly at him.
Why should that be?
How could so humble a personage as the bank messenger boy have anything
to do with the financial standing of a big merchant like Mr. Graylock?
Surely it was entirely out of the question that the former dislike which
this man had entertained toward him could have any place in his thoughts
now, if, as Dick imagined, he were wrestling with financial
difficulties.
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