BURGLARY
MR. GRAHAM was not in Seaton when the incident occurred. He had just
risen from a rather serious attack of pneumonia and by the doctor’s
order was spending several weeks in the South, in hope of more speedy
convalescence. Meantime, as Professor Anthony was spending his
sabbatical year abroad, Mr. Moore, the teacher of German, an elderly man
of strongly pedagogic stamp, acted by virtue of seniority as chairman of
the Faculty and took the Principal’s office hours.
The safe stood in the registrar’s little office in the basement of
Sibley. It was an old affair which, before the vault had been put into
the school office, had held the more important books and papers
belonging to the school. Latterly it had served as a kind of overflow
strong box for the less valuable papers, or smaller sums of money which
came in after the big safe was closed or the day’s deposit had been made
at the bank. Miss Devon also kept in it her official record books, and
the smaller amounts of money for the payment of wages and other minor
bills which were under her charge.
On Saturday at six Miss Devon had locked up ninety dollars in cash and a
check on a Boston bank for fifty dollars. On Sunday afternoon she went
to the safe for a personal paper which she had enclosed with the school
property. The safe was locked as usual and apparently in the state in
which she had left it the night before, but the money and the check were
missing.
Startled at her carelessness, for she felt that she must have mislaid
the money, Miss Devon searched the compartments and drawers. The money
was not to be found. She locked the safe door and opened it again. The
lock was uninjured, the safe showed no evidence of having been tampered
with. Trembling with anxiety, the girl glanced about the room. There
were two doors leading into the office, one from outside by which she
had entered, the other a rarely used door with an ordinary lock, opening
directly into the passage that led past the store-rooms and the
lavatories to the main entry of the dormitory. Neither door showed
anything unusual in its appearance. She looked at the windows and her
heart set up a violent throbbing. The shades were not in their usual
position, and the fastening on one sash was open. While sure as to the
unwonted height of the shades, she could not recall that she had altered
them before leaving Saturday night, or that she had given any especial
attention to the window fastenings. It was her habit to make everything
secure before she left the office, but the labor involved in this had
long since become mechanical, and she had absolutely no recollection of
anything in connection with closing up on the day before.
Now thoroughly frightened the girl sat down and confusedly wondered what
was to be done. The money was gone, no one except herself knew the
combination of the safe, no one else was responsible for the security of
the office. If she could only recall definitely that she had locked the
window! She must have done it, for it was her regular custom; and yet
she had left rather early the night before to catch a car, and it was
possible, just possible, that she had overlooked it. If this was the
case, she had really been negligent.
Her glance fell on the safe and brought a comforting thought. She rose
and wiped her eyes. “It’s dreadful, but I am not at fault,” she said to
herself, resolutely, “and I won’t worry. A man who could open the safe
so easily would get in anyway, whether the window were locked or not.
I’ll just report the matter to Mr. Moore and let him take the
responsibility.”
Miss Devon let herself out and went in search of Mr. Moore. Half an hour
later both were in the office,—Miss Devon collected and careful of her
words, Mr. Moore looking very solemn and important and asking many
questions. Together they went through the safe again, examined the
windows and the outside door and with the aid of the housekeeper’s key
unlocked the door into the passage, and scrutinized it carefully. It had
shrunk somewhat, leaving a crack at the edge, but the lock was unharmed
and the jamb unscarred. All in all, besides weariness and many useless
questions, the investigation yielded only two tangible results, neither
of which seemed to impress Mr. Moore as of any special value: one, the
discovery of a drop of candle-grease on the floor before the safe, which
Miss Devon pointed out triumphantly as a proof that the robbery had been
committed during the night by the light of a candle; and the other, the
fact that some one had been present on Saturday morning while Miss Devon
was kneeling before the safe struggling with the rebellious combination
lock. As the door finally swung open, the girl had observed one of the
boys standing behind her, apparently taking a deep interest in her work.
It was a junior named Eddy.
At this statement Mr. Moore’s face took on a superior smile. “How
fortunate that it was Eddy, and not some other boy!” he said. “I gave
him permission to leave by the eleven o’clock train on Saturday to spend
Sunday with his cousins in Boston. His alibi is easily proved. Had it
not been for this circumstance, he might have been subjected to a very
unjust suspicion. I should be very loath to believe that any student had
a hand in this.”
“Mightn’t Eddy have seen the combination and told some one else of it?”
suggested Miss Devon, modestly.
“I think not,” replied Mr. Moore, with an air of finality, but yet
condescending to explain himself. “If he saw anything,—and he probably
saw no more than that you were having difficulty in opening the
door,—you may be assured that he forgot it immediately. The prospect of
going to Boston would exclude almost anything else from his mind. He was
in my recitation at ten o’clock, and a more absent-minded pupil I never
had. I will question him, however, on his return, and make sure of the
fact. I should rather be of the opinion that we have here the work of
some clever professional who has found an unusually good opportunity to
ply his trade with safety and profit.”
“We have never had burglars in town,” murmured Miss Devon, not wholly
convinced. “I don’t see why this little safe should attract their
notice. Shall you put the matter in the hands of the police?”
Mr. Moore hesitated. “That will require consideration,” he answered. “We
may consult the police, but I doubt if we should be willing to incur the
notoriety of a public investigation for so small a sum. The thief, I am
afraid, is secure in his plunder. At present we had better say nothing
about the matter.”
They separated at the door and went their respective ways, Mr. Moore
calm in exterior but much worried within, Miss Devon in a condition of
woe closely bordering on hysterics. Under the teacher’s smooth, long
words she had divined an undefined suspicion that she might be making
much of unimportant incidents to cover some carelessness of her own. The
discovery came upon her with a shock. If Mr. Moore could harbor such a
doubt, what might not other people think and say when the story came
out,—the merciless, insatiate gossips of the small town? With all her
heart she longed for Mr. Graham’s speedy return.
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