George Barr McCutcheon

“ The proud old man was before him as a suppliant, no longer the cold man of the world. Back to Brewster's mind came the thought of his quarrel with Barbara and of her heartlessness. A scratch of the pen, one way or the other, could change the life of Barbara Drew. The two bankers stood by scarcely breathing. From the outside came the shuffle of many feet and the muffled roll of voices. Again the door to the private office opened and a clerk excitedly motioned for Mr. Moore to hurry to the front of the bank. Moore paused irresolutely, his eyes on Brewster's face. ”

“ Colonel Drew, outwardly calm and serene, but inwardly perturbed, finally saw Brewster and his companions. He sent a messenger over with the request that Monty come to the president's private office at once.
"He wants to help you to save your money," cried Bragdon in low tones. "That shows it's all up."
"Get out every dollar of it, Monty, and don't waste a minute. It's a smash as sure as fate," urged Harrison, a feverish expression in his eyes.
Brewster was admitted to the Colonel's private office. Drew was alone and was pacing the floor like a caged animal. ”

“ Moore looked helplessly at the president of the bank, and his silence spoke more plainly than words.
"Brewster, it looks bad," said the Colonel, turning abruptly to the young man. "The other banks are afraid of a run and we can't count on much help from them. Some of them have helped us and others have refused. Now, I not only ask you to refrain from drawing out your deposit, but I want you to help us in this crucial moment." The Colonel looked twenty years older and his voice shook perceptibly. Brewster's pity went out to him in a flash.
"What can I do, Colonel Drew?" he cried. ”