The clock over the bank had just struck noon when Kent reached the
fine office building which housed the Metropolis Trust Company, and
as he entered the bank, a messenger stopped him.
"Mr. Clymer is waiting for you in his private office, sir," he said,
and led the way past the long rows of mahogany counters and plate
glass windows to the back of the bank, finally stopping before a door
bearing the name, in modest lettering- BENJAMIN AUGUSTUS CLYMER.
The bank president was sensitive on one point; he never permitted
initials only to be used before his name. The messenger's
deferential knock was answered by a gruff command to enter. Clymer
welcomed Kent with an air of relief.
"You know Colonel McIntyre," he said by way of introduction, and
Kent became aware that the tall man lounging with his back to him
in one of the leather covered chairs was Barbara's father. Colonel
McIntyre returned Kent's bow with a curt nod, and then Clymer
pushed forward a chair.
"Sit down, Kent," he began. "You have already handled several
confidential affairs for the bank in a satisfactory manner, and
I have sent for you to-day to ask your aid in an urgent matter.
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