"Well--he's run away, for one thing.

The bank examiners found the deficit.

Bailey, the cashier, went out on an errand--and didn't come back.

The method was simple enough--worthless bonds substituted for good ones--with a good bond on the top and bottom of each package, so the packages would pass a casual inspection.
Probably been going on for some time." The fingers of Dale's right hand drummed restlessly on the edge of her settee.
"Couldn't somebody else have done it ?" she queried tensely.
The Doctor smiled, a trifle patronizingly.
"Of course the president of the bank had access to the vaults," he said.

"But, as you know, Mr.Courtleigh Fleming, the late president, was buried last Monday." Miss Cornelia had seen her niece's face light up oddly at the beginning of the Doctor's statement--to relapse into lassitude again at its conclusion.