By this time Kendale was recovering from the stunning blows which had been dealt him—­realized that help was at hand; the employees would be in duty bound to protect him from the enraged man before him.

He realized, too, that the old cashier meant that he should remain there on his knees and beg the girl’s pardon before all these people.

Ere Mr. Conway could judge of his design the bogus Lester Armstrong had bounded to his feet and into the midst of the crowd.

“You are discharged!” he cried, turning to the old cashier.  “I will give you just ten minutes to get out of this building—­you and the girl, both of you.  It was a plan hatched up between you and her to extort money from me.”

The old cashier attempted to spring at him, but the strong hands of indignant, pitying friends held him back.

Suddenly he stopped short, saying, with a dignity wonderful to behold: 

“It is not necessary, I think, to ask any of you, who all know me so well and know also my little Margery, not to give credence to so heinous a statement.  I am going from this place, friends.  I would not stay another moment in this villain’s employ, nor would my Margery, though he weighed us down with all the wealth the world holds.  Come, Margery.”

The crowd slowly parted, making way for them, and together Margery and her father passed through the line of sympathizing faces, hand in hand—­the old man white, stern and resolute, pretty Margery sobbing as though her heart would break.

Mr. Wright, the manager, who had been—­like the old cashier—­fully five and twenty years beneath that roof, turned and faced the throng, saying, huskily: 

“Mr. Armstrong, I herewith tender you my resignation.  My friend of a lifetime is going, and I shall go, too.”

“And I,” “And I,” “And I,” quickly rang out, voice after voice.

“Confound you all, I discharge the whole lot of you!” shouted Kendale, now quite sobered by the excitement he was passing through.  “Don’t think your going troubles me even a little bit.  The set of men don’t live who will ever trouble me or my business!”

With great rapidity the men fled from the private office, and, without waiting even to close their ledgers, took down their coats and hats, got into them quickly and filed downstairs.

Kendale never could fully comprehend how it happened that in five minutes’ time the five hundred employees of the place heard what had occurred, and in less time than it takes to recount it the strangest event that had ever taken place in the annals of a great New York business house occurred—­there was a mighty uproar and by one accord the great throng of employees quitted their tasks—­badly as they needed work—­and dashed out into the street, leaving the vast emporium to the hundreds of astonished customers with which it was crowded at that hour.

For an instant Kendale was horror-stricken when he realized what was occurring.