"It's not in my room. Where have you put it?"

"I have not seen your watch. Make haste and get the safes open and the books out. Look at the time," Eustace replied sharply.

The keys of the big safe, or strong-room, as they termed it, were kept in a smaller one, to which there were two keys, Eustace and Harding each holding one. The last vestige of fear pa.s.sed from Eustace's mind as the keys of the strong-room were found lying in their usual place. He sighed with relief as Harding picked them up, unlocked the heavy door and, swinging the handles, threw the strong-room open.

The tray on which the cash had been placed after balancing the previous evening was in a small upper compartment resting on the books. It was the usual practice for Harding to remove it and hand it over to Eustace, who checked the contents while the books and doc.u.ments necessary for the day's work were being arranged.

But Eustace was too impatient to wait for the ordinary methods. As Harding pushed back the safe doors and bent down to remove the keys, he reached over him and caught hold of the tray.

Instead of being heavy, as it should have been with all the gold, silver and copper coins, it came away in his hands light--and empty!

His face went livid. He reeled back against the counter, letting the tray fall to the floor.

"Gone!" he cried. "The money's gone!"

Harding started up and stood staring, first at Eustace, then at the tray lying on the floor.

"Gone?" he echoed. "Gone? How can it have gone?"

"It has--the tray is empty," Eustace gasped in reply.

Harding looked from the tray to the open safe. His glance rested on the drawer where the bank-notes were kept. He took hold of the handle and pulled the drawer out.

It was empty.

In an inner recess, guarded by second-locked doors, the gold reserve was kept. The night before the bags of gold had filled it to the doors.

Harding tried the handles. They held. The locks had not been forced.

"Have you the keys of the reserve?" he asked.

With shaking hands Eustace produced them and stood watching, as the doors were unlocked and swung open.

The recess was as empty as the cash tray.

Dumbfounded, Harding turned to Eustace who, with his face ashen, stared blankly at the empty recess. Then a wild light leapt in his eyes and he seized the handle of a drawer in the counter where a loaded revolver was kept lest at any moment an attempt was made to rob the bank during office hours.

Harding sprang to his side and gripped his arm.

"Not that," he cried hoa.r.s.ely. "Hang it, man, pull yourself together.

Think of your wife!"

"It's ruin--ruin for me. Better finish it," Eustace muttered.

Holding him back with one hand, Harding pulled the drawer open with the other to take the revolver away. But the drawer was also empty.

"That has gone as well," he cried, letting go his hold of Eustace as he stooped to peer into the drawer.

Eustace sank into a chair and buried his face in his hands.

"Oh, this is terrible--terrible," he moaned. "Terrible, terrible."

The door leading to the house was flung open and Mrs. Eustace faced them.

"Charlie!" she exclaimed. "My rings and jewellery have vanished. The cases are all empty. I am certain--why, what is the matter?" she broke off to ask as she caught sight of her husband.

She glanced from him to Harding.

"What has happened?" she said wonderingly, as she advanced further into the office.

Opposite the open doors of the strong-room she saw the empty cash tray lying on the floor, the note drawer pulled out, the vacant s.p.a.ce of the reserve recess.

"Charlie!"

Her voice went to a shriek as the truth flashed upon her.

She rushed past Harding and flung herself on her knees beside her husband, her arms around him, her face upturned to his.

"Oh, Charlie, Charlie! Whatever are we to do?" she cried.

"Shall I go over to the police-station? We had better report it at once," Harding said quietly.

Eustace raised his wife from her kneeling position.

"You must not come in here now, Jess," he said. "Go and learn, as nearly as you can, what has been taken from the house. Harding and I must send word to the head office."

He led her from the room and closed the door after her.

"We shall have to use the code, I suppose," Harding said, as he returned. "If you will read out the words, I will write them."

Eustace sank into his chair again and sat staring blankly in front of him.

"Come, come, old chap," Harding exclaimed, as he laid his hand on his manager's shoulder. "Don't give way. There's a mystery in all this. We shall want all our wits to clear it up as it is; don't make it worse."

Eustace raised his head.

"But who can have done it, Harding? Who can have done it? Every place locked up and yet the money has gone! No one knew all that gold was here."

"You and I knew it."

"My G.o.d! You don't mean----" Eustace cried as he sprang out of his chair. "You don't----"

"Steady, old man, steady. Keep your head. There's nothing to be gained by getting excited. You and I knew it was here and someone at the head office knew, as well as the fellows at Wyalla. Some word may have leaked out while it was on the road. There's no saying off-hand; what we've got to do is to keep cool and go slow if we're to clear ourselves. I'm as much concerned in this matter as you are."

Eustace shook his head.

"No, Harding. I'm manager, and all the responsibility is on my shoulders. Whatever comes to light, I'm ruined. The bank will fire me out directly they hear of it--and this was my first branch too."

"I would not look at it like that," Harding replied. "No game is lost till it's won. I'll send Brennan over as I pa.s.s the station. He may be able to throw some light on it. Come. Let us draft the report for the head office."