Chapter 19: Chapter 19
In Collins Street it was as the partners had feared. A large, bewildered, and angry
crowd was blocking the pavement in front of the bank. Many were crying while others
hammered on the door and shouted to be let in. It was no use; the imposing, brass
studded doors were closed, and the gilt painted lettering on the windows only
mocked them. There were signs advertising the strength of the establishment, the
depth of its capital, and the ease with which large sums of money could be borrowed,
at low rates of interest.
''This will be a lesson to us,” said Pryor. ''Next time we don't give money to the bank,
we borrow instead. Then it doesn’t matter if it goes bust. Look, a notice''”
He shouldered his way through the distraught crowd to read the hand-written
placard on the door. ‘The bank would be closed until further notice.’
A police constable stood by the door on guard but shook his head at every question. It
was clear he knew nothing, any more than his superiors, but had been posted there to
keep the peace.
''Where’s Pringle?? Now listen, you go back to the office, and stay there until six
o'clock at least. It's vital we keep the doors open otherwise the panic will spread to us
and we’ll be done for.''
''What if anyone wants to deposit money?''
''Take it man, for God's sake; never refuse money. Put it in the drawer and we'll pick it
up later. Though I can’t imagine anyone will want to part with their cash while all this
is going on.''
''But what if they want to take money out?''
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''Use your imagination,'' retorted Pryor. ''Make them fill out forms. Tell them the
checks have to come from Sydney and theirs'll be in the post on the first of the month.
Anything, just give us some breathing time."Say we're not accustomed to being
doubted and that our word is our bond and all that sort of thing. Tell them the
directors will be along directly to sort things out. Quick as you like.''
''My God!" whispered Fox as the seriousness of the matter struck home. "We're
bankrupt; we could go to jail for taking people's money with no security at all." He
had to clutch a street lamp to steady himself as he thought of what could happen
arrest,a trial ,imprisonment.
''No one's bankrupt until they admit it. Come with me!!'' Pryor seized his partner’s
arm and drew him round a corner into a lane. He walked along it briskly towing Fox
with him.
It was an access lane to the earth closets and other necessary services of the city and
it allowed them to get through an unfastened corrugated iron gate to the back door of
the bank.
This was locked and Pryor hammered on it repeatedly, refusing to leave in spite of
Fox's belief that the whole staff had cleared off while they could.
His persistence was rewarded for after about fifteen minutes of thumping a voice was
heard from within telling them to go away. "The bank is closed," said the voice. "I
can't help you; I would if I could, but it is impossible."
''Perhaps we can help you.'' Mr. Pryor roared in reply. ''I have been directed to come
here by the chairman of the Australian Colonial Bank. We cannot afford to have your
bank fail like this it will destroy confidence in the whole system. We think it would be
best to give you a loan to tide you over so that the process of closure can take place in
an orderly manner without bringing the whole banking system into disrepute''
There was no response from within.
''Open up, man, this is your only chance. I can't shout at you through the door like
this. We want to save you if we can.''
There was a delay and the door remained closed as though an irresolute and beaten
man was trying to make up his mind what to do. Then they heard bars being removed
and the chain dropping and the door partly opened while someone within peered at
them.
He caught sight of the partners and tried to shut the door against them. It was too late,
James Pryor was half through the opening before anything could be done. He let his
partner in and slammed, barred, and bolted the door behind them.
It was the manager who had come to the door. He was much changed from when they
had last seen him. The gloss had gone from his black whiskers and his face was
pinched and grey. The bearing of a man in charge of a great financial institution had
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changed and shrunk, and they detected a slight shuffle in his walk where none had
been before. As the two partners forced their way through the back door he knew he
had been outwitted- they were no source of help or finance.
''I've told you already, I can't help you,'' he whined, when he realized a trick had been
played on him, and no succour was on hand from any other source of credit or money.
''You must leave, he insisted weakly. ''I can't begin to express how sorry I am about
your money, but it's gone -- gone. I received a cable from head office in London in our
code yesterday. It said the bank had failed and I was to dismiss the staff and send any
money on hand immediately to London.
''Have you done all that?'' enquired Pryor.
''I sent messages to the staff not to come today, and I will send off the money either
today or tomorrow, after the crowd has dispersed."
''There's some of our money in that. We've paid £600 into this bank since last
Monday.''
Fox was about to open his mouth to correct his partner's figures. The amount was
considerably less; more like £400, but he thought better of it and said nothing.
''I'm sorry, answered the manager As a depositor you cannot get preferential
treatment. When the affairs of the bank are settled you can put in a claim and no
doubt you will be paid so much in the pound."
'“Be buggered!” retorted Pryor, “We want our money now. Open the safe. Go on, get
your keys and do it.''
The manager glared at them defiantly. I will not!
''Alright, we'll fix you. We'll open the front door instead and let the mob in. Try telling
that lot you won't open the safe. They'll string you up from the gasolier." He moved
towards the door as though about to carry out his threat.
''There's not a great deal there,'' said the man hurriedly. “I wondered why head office
had me send off cash drafts every day: and on Friday one of our directors came in and
insisted on clearing out his account for cash. It seemed strange at the time.''
''He knew more than we did. One of his mates in London must have given him the
office,'' said Pryor. ''Now get the keys and let's have a look and see how much you've
got there.''
''It's not right and it's not legal,'' claimed the manager, as a last, weak defence.
''We don't care about rights or legality. Either you open the safe or we open the front
door, Then you can talk to the mob about their rights.''
The manager complained, but the threat of facing a crowd of dissatisfied customers
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instead of just two was more than he could stand. He shuffled into his office and they
heard him rattling keys out of a drawer.
When he turned his back Pryor gestured to Gabriel to go into the accountant's office
and have a look round. The man came out with the keys and Pryor instantly started
talking in order to drown out any noise Gabriel might make while turning over papers
in the office and teller's cage.
''This is a bad business. What about you? You'll be looking for a job; You had better
come round and see us, we'll need a manager, and have you done anything about your
own salary? Once you send that money overseas that's it; you'll never see it again. My
advice is don't send them anything. They can't sack you, you don't have a job any
more.''
''The board has always treated me honourably in the past. My salary was paid on the
dot every fortnight. I have asked the local directors to have an emergency meeting
this afternoon to discuss the situation; no doubt such matters will be arranged then.''
''Pigs arse! Don't you send any money anywhere until you get your own pay. Collar
your own first, then talk to the local directors and let them decide what to do with the
rest; but once you send that money off to England forget it. you'll never get a sniff of it
again.''
The safe was open by this time. ''There can’t be more than £900 on hand right now. I
would have had to borrow from other banks this afternoon to continue trading in the
morning.
''Well, six hundred of it is ours. Just count it out and we'll be on our way. We've lost a
hell of a lot of money in this crash but the six hundred might just let us through until
we can get rolling again.''
''I cannot permit a criminal act of this kind. This institution is bankrupt and all assets
should be held in common until a rate of so much in the pound is struck and then
everyone gets an equal share. In any case I know you have not deposited £600, more
like £400.
''Alright. Four hundred quid, if you say so. We’ll have it now. And take your pay, too.
It may be criminal but what the bank is doing to Victoria is even more criminal. If it
makes you feel better I'll write a withdrawal slip for £400, date it yesterday, and we'll
both swear, if necessary, that I lodged it before you got the cable from England.''
He found a withdrawal slip and in his usual slashing style scribbled out a withdrawal
note for £400, dated it the previous Friday, and forced the manager to hand over that
amount.
''Here, have some for yourself. If you don't take it now you'll never see it again. Take
my word for it man. I'll bet you've got a wife and family to look after. What are you
going to say when you go home and tell her that you had all that money in your hands
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but there'll be no housekeeping for her this week or next, or the week after?'' He
stuffed some money into the man’s top pocket. “That’s yours, don’t put it back.”
''I had an account here too,'' said the manager. “And it's very serious for me now that
my position and the money have both gone. But there will be money coming in on
loan repayments. At least they haven’t got that in London.''
Pryor slapped another withdrawal slip on the desk in front of the man.''Write your
own!! Get what you can out now and face 'em down afterwards. Say it was your wife's
birthday and you had to get the money out to buy a gift. Let them think what they
like, they can never prove that you didn't withdraw the money before the cable
arrived; and get some out for your bookkeeper too. If you do that he will back up your
story."
''What if the Directors suspect something and lay charges?''
''They'll be busy covering their own behinds. If they accuse you of anything accuse
them right back. Don't you be the scapegoat for all this. They will have stuff they want
to hide too. What about that director that took all his money out in cash? He knew the
bank was going to fail but didn't warn the others. He won't want to hear you
defending yourself in case you talk about him. Come on now, man, buck up; stiffen up
your backbone a bit."
They left him still undecided and staring miserably at the books but he ran out of his
office when he heard the back door being opened, and closed and barred it behind
them.