THE COUNTERFEIT BANK NOTE.
When they arose in the morning the train was speeding over the prairie,
and Dick could hardly be pulled away from the window long enough to go
to breakfast with Stella and Mrs. Graham, so great was his delight at
being in the "really and truly" wild West.
When they were all back in the car again, Ted, for the first time,
noticed a large man, flashily dressed, who wore a flaming red necktie,
and who evidently thought himself irresistible to the ladies.
He walked up and down the aisle on the slightest pretext, ogling every
pretty woman in the car, and Ted was getting very tired of it,
especially as once or twice he had the impertinence to stop and look
into the stateroom in which Stella and Mrs. Graham were sitting.
"I'll take a fall out of that fellow if he keeps up that sort of thing
much longer," said Ted, who was sitting beside Kit.
"I was thinking of the same thing," said Kit. "He makes me tired. I
wonder what he is, anyway?"
"He has the make-up of a gambler or a saloon keeper," answered Ted. "He
better keep away from me if he knows when he's well off."
At a town farther down the line a young lady entered the car, and took a
seat directly in front of Kit, who was alone, Ted having gone to the
front of the train to consult the conductor about a mistake that had
been made in their tickets.
Presently the flashy man with the red necktie spied her and sauntered
past her down the aisle. In a few moments he came back, twirling his
black mustache, which evidently was dyed, and casting glances at the
young lady.
Stopping in front of her, he said:
"Is this seat taken, lady?"
The young lady looked up, and answered coldly:
"No, sir; but there are plenty of other seats in the car which are
unoccupied."
"This one looks good to me," said the fellow, with a smile which was
supposed to be very fetching.
Without further excuse he plumped himself down in the seat beside her,
and threw his arm familiarly over the back of it, at the same time
hitching closer to her.
Then he tried to draw her into conversation, but she turned from him and
looked out of the window.
But he persisted, and she showed that his attentions were annoying her.
Kit watched the proceedings, and was boiling with anger, but he did not
feel that he had the right to interfere until the young lady showed by
her manner that she desired assistance.
Presently the man said something to the young lady in a low voice that
seemed to arouse her anger, for she rose hastily to her feet, her face
burning.
"Let me pass!" she said.
"Don't leave me like this," said the fellow, blocking the way with his
knees. "Sit down. We'll soon be good friends. You'll find me a good
fellow."
"I insist, sir, that you allow me to pass," said the girl, growing pale,
her voice rising a little.
Kit could stand it no longer. He reached over and tapped the fellow on
the shoulder.
"Allow the lady to pass," he said quietly.
The hawk turned his head and sized Kit up. This did not take much time,
for Kit was small and slender, his black eyes being the largest part of
him, proportionately.
"What the deuce have you got to do with this?" he sneered, looking
savagely at Kit.
"Just enough to make sure that you do it," said Kit, rising.
"Well, I don't allow no pups like you to interfere with me. You sit down
an' let this gal an' me attend to our own business, er I'll bend you an'
tie you into a knot an' throw you out of the window."
Kit did not reply, but he reached over and got the fellow by the coat
collar and jerked him into the aisle, and, twisting him around, planted
his toe between his coat tails with a force that sent him halfway down
the length of the car.
"You're on the wrong train," said Kit. "The cattle train is on the other
track."
The fellow soon regained his balance, and came rushing back like a
charging bull.
"You little snipe!" he roared, "I'll kill you for that."
But as he got near Kit dodged into the space between the seats, and as
the fellow rushed past, carried on by the momentum of his run, Kit swung
at him with his right fist.
It caught the fellow back of the ear, and the force behind the blow, as
well as the rate at which he had been coming, sent him headlong between
two seats, where he lay crumpled up like a rag.
The commotion had attracted the attention of Bud and Ben, and they were
by Kit's side in a moment.
"Need any help?" asked Bud.
"Not a bit," replied Kit. "I'm not very large, but no man of that sort
can call me a pup."
The fellow lay where he fell, and Bud warned away several passengers who
wanted to go to his assistance.
"He's all right," he said. "A crack like that never injured any one
permanently, but sometimes it wakes them up ter ther foolishness of
insulting a lady when ther broncho boys are around."
Kit lifted his hat to the young lady.
"Pardon me for making a disturbance," he said. "I don't think you'll be
bothered again."
The young lady was profuse in her thanks, and resumed her seat.
Presently the fellow on the floor got up and sneaked into another car,
without looking again at either Kit or the young lady.
"Hello, Kit! What was it all about?" asked Ted entering the car.
"Oh, I never could stand for red neckties, nohow," answered Kit
apologetically.
When the train stopped for dinner they all trooped into the station
dining room, and secured for themselves a long table, around which they
sat like a big and happy family.
As Ted and Kit were walking along the platform toward the dining room
Ted suddenly halted and stared at a man who was leaning against the wall
of the station.
"By Jove, I believe it's him!" he muttered.
"Who's him?" asked Kit.
"The express robber, Checkers," answered Ted. "And yet I'm not sure. If
it is him it's one of the best disguises I ever saw. Look at your friend
of the red necktie hurrying up to him. By Jove, they're a good pair! I
wish I could hear that fellow in the checked suit speak."
"That fellow will get caught up yet if he persists in wearing checked
suits," said Kit. "It seems to be his badge, or a disease with him."
"I suppose that's why they call him Checkers," said Ted. "I wish I knew.
I'd take a chance at arresting him."
At that moment the man in the checked suit looked up and caught Ted and
Kit staring at him.
Hastily calling the attention of the man with the red necktie to them,
he hurried around the corner, and the other followed.
Ted ran to the corner of the station, but all he could see of either was
through a swirl of dust as the motor car in which they were riding flew
up the street.
"By crickey! I'll bet anything that was Checkers," grumbled Ted. "I'm
always too late to get to him. But next time I'll take a long chance
with him."
The train pulled into Green River at eight o'clock that night, and they
all went to the leading hotel, and Ted registered them as coming from
the ranch.
During the evening the boys mingled with the crowd in the hotel lobby,
talking cattle, and met many of the representative women of the section.
They were out after a bunch of stockers, and promised to be in the
neighborhood for several days and to visit the ranches and look over the
stock.
One of the men whom they met was introduced to them as Colonel Billings,
ranch owner and speculator in cattle.
He was a middle-aged man of most pleasant features--benign,
good-natured, and yet shrewd. He dressed well for a cowman, and from his
pink, bald crown and gray chin whiskers down to his neat shoes, he
looked the part of the prosperous business man.
"I have a lot of stock such as I think you boys need out at my ranch,"
he said to Ted, when he learned that they wanted to buy. "I'd like to
have you bring your party out to the place and stay several days as my
guests. You would then have plenty of time to look the stock over, and
if you like them I'm sure we can strike a bargain."
Ted thanked him and promised to go out to look at the stock, but as for
the invitation for the whole party to stop at the ranch, he would have
to consult the wishes of the party. He rather liked the colonel, who
was, apparently, bluff and sincere.
As Ted was on his way to the bank which had issued the bill which he had
found in the haunted house, he stopped suddenly. He had just seen a
young woman enter a store hurriedly, and look at him over her shoulder
as she did so. She it was who had slipped the note of warning into his
pocket in the Union Station, in St. Louis.
Evidently she was trying to avoid him. But why? He wanted to thank her
for that kindly service, and, quite naturally, he had some curiosity to
know who she was.
Without apparently hurrying he followed her into the store, and looked
around for her. She was not in sight, and he walked up and down the
aisles between the counters, but could not find her.
Then he observed that there was a back door to the store, which opened
onto an arcade. She had escaped him through that, and Ted looked up and
down the arcade. At the far end, where it opened out into the public
square, a carriage stood, and a young lady was getting into it.
It was the young lady of the subtle perfume and the note.
In a moment she was gone.
He was not far from the bank, and giving the young woman no more
thought, for he was sure he would see her again, for she seemed to be
mixed up in his fortunes in some manner, he made his way to the
financial institution and asked for the president.
"You will find Mr. Norcross in his private office at the end of the
corridor," said the clerk.
At the door of the office Ted found a colored messenger, who stopped him
and asked his business.
"Is Mr. Norcross in his office?" asked Ted.
"Yes, sah, but he is busy," answered the messenger.
"Well, take my card in to him, and tell him I would like to see him
when he is at leisure."
The negro went away, and in a few moments returned to say that Mr.
Norcross would be glad to see Mr. Strong presently.
While Ted waited he stood looking out of the window into the street. The
door behind him opened, and he turned.
Walking rapidly down the corridor was the man with the pointed beard,
whom he had seen in the Union Station in St. Louis give the signal to
the girl who had slipped the note into his pocket.
Ted stared after him. The mystery of the note was getting thicker. But
he would try to think it out later.
He found Mr. Norcross an elderly, but active man.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Strong," said the banker, referring to Ted's
card.
"I come to you for information concerning a recent robbery and the
murder of an express messenger in an express car in St. Louis," said
Ted.
"In what capacity do you come?"
"As an officer of the government."
"Oh, ah, rather young for such work, aren't you?"
"Pardon, but that has nothing at all to do with it. I am a deputy United
States marshal, and have received instructions to examine into certain
matters regarding the recent robberies from express trains in this part
of the country."
"I suppose you have your credentials as an officer."
"I think I can convince those who have the right to know that I am what
I profess to be."
"Very well. I meant no offense, but there have been so many violent
things done out here, that naturally a banker desires to at least know
something of his callers. What can I do for you?"
"Did your bank make a shipment of currency to the East, last week?"
"Yes, sir, that is a well-known fact."
"What was the amount?"
"Forty thousand dollars. It was to meet some paper which was due in St.
Louis."
"And it was stolen from the express car?"
"Yes. The express company has reimbursed us for it."
"What sort of currency was it?"
"Mostly of our own issue."
"Do you recognize this bill?"
Ted took from his pocket the counterfeit bill of the bank, and handed it
to the president, who looked at it a moment and handed it back.
"Yes, that is one of the bills. The money sent was all in that series of
numbers."
Ted picked the bill up, and put it in his pocket.
"Here, you mustn't take that," said the president. "That is the property
of the bank. Give it to me. The express company will need it for
evidence."
"Then I will keep it. It will be safer with me."
A suspicion had entered Ted's mind, which was strengthened by the
conduct of the president, who was white-faced and trembling.
"From your examination of the bill, you are positive that it was one of
those shipped to St. Louis?"
"I am not certain, of course, but as I said, it is within the series of
numbers which we sent. Why do you ask?"
"Because it is a counterfeit."
The president sank down in his chair. He had suddenly become pale, and
was trembling like a leaf.
"What will you take for that bill, young man? Name your own price," said
Mr. Norcross.
"It is not for sale, and you have not money enough to buy it," replied
Ted Strong.