CHAPTER XVII
A RUN ON THE BANK
"Why, Mr. Pendergast!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, rising quickly as Tomushered in the aged president. "Whatever is the matter? You here atthis hour? Bless my trial balance! Is anything wrong?
"I'm afraid there is," answered the bank head. "I have just receivedword which made it necessary for me to see you both at once. I'm gladyou're here, Mr. Damon."
He sank wearily into a chair which Tom placed for him, and Mr. Swiftasked:
"Have you been able to raise any cash, Mr. Pendergast?"
"No, I am sorry to say I have not, but I did not come here to tell youthat. I have bad news for you. As soon as we open our doors in themorning, there will be a run on the bank."
"A run on the bank?" repeated Mr. Swift.
"The moment we begin business in the morning," went on Mr. Pendergast.
"Bless my soul, then don't begin business!" cried Mr. Damon.
"We must," insisted Mr. Pendergast. "To keep the doors closed would bea confession at once that we have failed. No, it is better to openthem, and stand the run as long as we can. When we have exhausted ourcash--" he paused.
"Well?" asked Mr. Damon.
"Then we'll fail--that's all."
"But we mustn't let the bank fail!" cried Mr. Swift. "I am willing toput some of my personal fortune into the bank capital in order to saveit. So is my son here."
"That's right," chimed in Tom heartily. "All I've got. I'm not going tolet Andy Foger get ahead of us; nor his father either."
"I'll help to the limit of my ability," added Mr. Damon.
"I appreciate all that," continued the president. "But the unfortunatepart of it is that we need cash. You gentlemen, like myself, probably,have your money tied up in stocks and bonds. It is hard to get cashquickly, and we must have cash as soon as we open in the morning, topay the depositors who will come flocking to the doors. We must preparefor a run on the bank."
"How do you know there will be a run?" asked the young inventor.
"I received word this evening, just before I came here," replied Mr.Pendergast. "A poor widow, who has a small amount in the bank, calledon me and said she had been advised to withdraw all her cash. She saidshe preferred to see me about it first, as she did not like to lose herinterest. She said a number of her acquaintances, some of whom arequite heavy depositors, had also been warned that the bank was unsound,and that they ought to take out their savings and deposits at once."
"Did she say who had thus warned her?" inquired Mr. Swift.
"She did," was the reply, "and that shows me that there is a conspiracyon foot to ruin our bank. She stated that Mr. Foger had told her ourinstitution was unsound."
"Mr. Foger!" cried Mr. Damon. "So this is one of his tricks to bolsterup his new bank! He hopes the people who withdraw their money from ourbank will deposit with him. I see his game. He's a scoundrel, and ifit's possible I'm going to sue him for damages after this thing isover."
"Did he warn the others?" inquired the aged inventor.
"Not all of them," answered the president. "Some received letters froma man signing himself Addison Berg, warning them that our bank, waslikely to fail any day."
"Addison Berg!" exclaimed Tom. "That must have been the importantbusiness he had with Mr. Foger, the day I showed him the watch charm!They were plotting the ruin of our bank then," and he told his fatherabout his disastrous pursuit of the submarine agent.
"Very likely Foger is working with Berg," admitted Mr. Damon. "We willattend to them later. The question is, what can we do to save the bank?"
"Get cash, and plenty of it," advised Mr. Pendergast. "Suppose we goover the whole situation again?" and they fell to talking stocks:bonds, securities, mortgages and interest, until the youth, interestedas he was in the situation, could follow it no longer.
"Better go to bed, Tom," advised his father. "You can't help us any,and we have many details to go over."
The lad reluctantly consented, and he was soon dreaming that he was inhis electric auto, trying to pull up a thousand pound lump of gold fromthe bottom of the sea. He awoke to find the bedclothes in a lump on hischest, and, removing them, fell into a deep slumber.
When the young inventor awoke the next morning, Mrs. Baggert told himthat his father and Mr. Damon had risen nearly an hour before, hadpartaken of a hearty breakfast, and departed.
"They told me to tell you they were at the bank," said the housekeeper.
"Did Mr. Pendergast stay all night?" inquired Tom.
"I heard some one go away about two o'clock this morning," replied thehousekeeper. "I don't know who it was."
"They must have had a long session," thought Tom, as he began on hisbacon, eggs and coffee. "I'll take a run down to the bank in myelectric in a little while."
The car was still in rather crude shape, outwardly, but the mechanismwas now almost perfect. Tom charged the batteries well before startingout.
The youth had no sooner come in sight of the old Shopton bank, todistinguish it from the Second National, which Mr. Foger had started,than he was aware that something unusual had occurred. There was quitea crowd about it, and more persons were constantly arriving to swellthe throng.
"What's the matter?" asked Tom, of one of the few police officers ofwhich Shopton boasted, though the lad did not need to be told.
"Run on the bank," was the brief answer. "It's failed."
Tom felt a pang of disappointment. Somehow, he had hoped that hisfather and his friends might have been able to stave off ruin. As heapproached nearer Tom was made aware that the crowd was in an ugly mood.
"Why don't they open the doors and give us our money?" cried oneexcited woman. "It's ours! I worked hard for mine, an' now they want tokeep it from us. I wish I'd put it in the new bank."
"Yes, that's the best place," added another. "That Mr. Foger has lotsof money."
"I can see the hand of Andy's father, and that of Mr. Berg, at workhere," thought Tom, "They have spread rumors of the bank's trouble, andhope to profit by it. I wish I could find a way to beat them at theirown game."
As the minutes passed, and the bank was not opened, the ugly temper ofthe crowd increased. The few police could do nothing with the mob, andseveral, bolder than the rest, advocated battering down the doors. Somewent up the steps and began to pound on the portals. Tom looked for asight of his father or Mr. Damon, but could not see either.
It was not the regular hour for opening the bank, but when the policereminded the people of this they only laughed.
"I guess they ain't going to open anyhow!" shouted a man. "They've gotour money, and they're going to keep it. What difference is an hour,anyway?"
"Yes, if they have the money, why don't they open, and not wait untilten o'clock?" cried another. "I've got a hundred and five dollars inthere, and I want it!"
More excited persons were arriving every minute. The crowd surged thisway, and that. Many looked anxiously at the clock in the tower of thetown hall. The gilded hands pointed to a few minutes of ten. Would thebank open its doors when the hour boomed out? Many were anxiouslyasking this question.
Tom sat in his electric car, near the front of the bank. The interestof the crowd, which under ordinary circumstances would have beencentered in the queer vehicle, was not drawn toward it. The peoplewere all thinking of their money.
Suddenly one of the two doors of the bank slowly opened. There was ayell from the crowd, and a rush to get in. But the police managed tohold the leaders back, and then Tom saw that it was Ned Newton, whostood in the partly-opened portal. He held up his hand to indicatesilence, and a hush fell over the mob.
"The bank is open for business," Ned announced, "but there must be norush. The building is not large enough to accommodate you all. If youform a line, you will be admitted in turn. The bank hopes to pay youall."
"Hopes!" cried a woman scornfully. "We can't eat hopes, young man, noryet pay the rent with it. Hopes indeed!"
But Ned had said all he cared to, and, with ra
ther a white face, hewent back inside. The one door remained open and, with a policeman oneither side, a line of anxious depositors was slowly formed. Tomwatched them crowding and surging forward, all eager to be first to gettheir cash out, lest there be not enough for all. As he watched, theyoung inventor was aware that some was signaling to him from the bigwindow of the bank. He looked more closely and saw Ned Newton beckoningto him, and the young cashier was motioning Tom to go around to therear, where a door of the bank opened on a small alley. Wondering whatwas wanted, Tom slowly ran his machine down the side street, and up thealley. No one paid any attention to him.
A porter admitted the lad, and he made his way to the private offices,where he knew his father and Mr. Damon would be. In the corridors hecould hear the murmur of the throng and the chink of money, as thetellers paid it out.
"Well, Tom, this is bad business," remarked Mr. Swift, as he saw hisson. The lad noticed that Mr. Damon was in the telephone booth.
"Yes, Dad," admitted Tom. "It's a run, all right. What are you going todo?"
"The best we can. Pay out all the cash we have, and hope that beforethat time, the people will come to their senses. The bank is all rightif they would only wait. But I'm afraid they won't and, after we payout all the cash we have, we'll have to close the doors. Then there'ssure to be an unpleasant scene, and maybe some of the more hot-headedones will advocate violence. We have given orders to the tellers to payout as slowly as possible, so as to enable us to gain some time."
"And all you need is money; is that it, Dad?"
"That's it, Tom, but we have exhausted every possibility. Mr. Damon istrying a forlorn hope now, but, even if he is successful--"
Before Mr. Swift had ceased speaking, Mr. Damon fairly burst from thetelephone booth. He was much excited.
"I've got it! I've got it!" he cried.
"What?" asked Mr. Swift and Tom in the same breath.
"The cash, or, what's just as good, the promise of it. I called up Mr.Chase, of the Clayton National Bank, and he has agreed to take therailroad securities I offered him as collateral, and let me have sixtythousand dollars on them! That will give us cash enough to weather thestorm. Hurrah! We're all right now. Bless my check book!"
"The Clayton National Bank," remarked Mr. Swift, and his voice washopeless. "It's forty miles away, Mr. Damon, and no railroad aroundhere runs anywhere near it. No one could get there and back with thecash to-day, in time to save us from ruin. It's impossible! Our lastchance is gone."
"How far did you say it was, Dad?" asked Tom quickly.
"Forty miles there, over forty, I guess, and not very good roads. Wewould need to have the cash here before three o'clock to be of anyservice to us. No, it's out of the question. The bank will have tofail!"
"No!" cried the young inventor, and his voice rang out through theroom. "I'll get the cash for you!"
"How?" gasped Mr. Damon. "You can't get there and back in time?"
"Yes, I can!" cried Tom. "In my electric runabout! I can make it go ahundred miles an hour, if necessary! Probably I'll have to run slowover the bad roads; but I can do it! I know I can. I'll get the sixtythousand dollars for you!"
For a moment there was silence. Then Mr. Damon cried:
"Good! And I'll go with you and deliver the securities to Mr. Chase.Come on, Tom Swift! Bless my collar button, but maybe we can yet savethe old bank after all!"