pound on the portals. Tom looked for a sight of his father or Mr.
Damon, but could not see either.

It was not the regular hour for opening the bank, but when the
police reminded the people of this they only laughed.

"I guess they ain't going to open anyhow!" shouted a man.
"They've got our 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
until ten o'clock?" cried another. "I've got a hundred and five
dollars in there, and I want it!"

More excited persons were arriving every minute. The crowd
surged this way, and that. Many looked anxiously at the clock in
the tower of the town hall. The gilded hands pointed to a few
minutes of ten. Would the bank open its doors when the hour
boomed out? Many were anxiously asking this question.

Tom sat in his electric car, near the front of the bank. The
interest of the crowd, which under ordinary circumstances would
have been centered in the queer vehicle, was not drawn toward it.
The people were all thinking of their money.

Suddenly one of the two doors of the bank slowly opened. There
was a yell from the crowd, and a rush to get in. But the police
managed to hold the leaders back, and then Tom saw that it was
Ned Newton, who stood in the partly-opened portal. He held up his
hand to indicate silence, and a hush fell over the mob.