It began to exert a slow, steady pressure against the door of Ward's office.

The mob was composed entirely of creditors, for the merely curious had grown tired and departed hours ago.

Those who remained were beyond discouragement; they hung on with the persistency of despair.
"Oh, let's tear down the blamed door!" shouted someone in a voice more determined than had been heard thus far.

"I'm not going home to-day until I learn just what's happened to my money." "Yes, break it down!" echoed a dozen voices.
But suddenly the attention of the mob was diverted from the door.

A woman had torn into the corridor and was struggling frantically to make a lane for herself.