reputed business management, and
even the clerks, most of them gray-haired and bent, worked with slow,
labored movement, as if each scratch of the pen, each twist of the
wrist, involved a separate thought of its own.

As Britz plunged through the door of the building, however, he became
instantly aware of the changed aspect of Ward & Company's office. The
corridor was packed with an excited crowd of men and women, fear, anger,
resentment written in their faces. Massed before the door of the office,
a score of men were reaching over one another's shoulders in an effort
to break down the closed portal. On the outskirts of the crowd, an
excited citizen was haranguing those about him:

"Prison for him--prison for the rich thieves!" his thin, piping voice
rose above the dull murmur of the crowd. "My confidence was betrayed,
your confidence was betrayed--the thief! Why, my father's money was
entrusted to his grandfather and his father. It was an honorable house
until he took hold of it. I thought my money was as safe as with the
Bank of England. It's always been a conservative house until he took
hold of it. Damn Lester Ward--he's left me without a dollar in the
world!"

The crowd murmured approval, encouraging the speaker to continue.

"I tell you this speculating with other people's money must be stopped,"
he pursued, gesticulating wildly. "What right had he to use my money in
his enterprises? We've been deceived. We thought he would follow in the
footsteps of his father and his grandfather. But the fever of
speculation got into his blood--and we, and our wives and families are
the sufferers!"

Those who were not listening to the speaker were pressing desperately
against the door, a murderous fury in their eyes.

Cries of "Open the door!" "Break it down!" "I want my money!" echoed
down the corridor and floated into the street. As a consequence, the
crowd of depositors and investors was augmented by the idle and the
curious, who flocked into the lobby from the street and from the floors
above.

Those within the office evidently feared that the door could not much
longer withstand the pressure from without, for it opened suddenly and a
man's form appeared on the threshold.

"It is useless to clamor for admittance," the man shouted, thrusting
back the foremost of the crowd. "It is impossible to give out a
statement until we have examined the books."

"Where's Ward?" several voices demanded. "Where's Lester Ward?"