THE MILLION DOLLARS
Had Larry exploded a bombshell under the other man’s car, the effect
on him would not have been any more startling. And yet, aside from the
number of the car, the young reporter had no way of being sure that the
man in it was the absconder. Indeed, when he looked at the shrunken
frame of the driver, and noted as well as he could behind the goggles
the unshaven, haggard face, it was not a bit like Norton’s. Yet Larry
was sure he was right.
Indeed the man’s action on hearing the fateful words was proof enough.
He seemed to shrink down in his seat. His hands dropped from the
steering-wheel. He gazed blankly at Larry through the big goggles.
“The--the million dollars,” he faltered.
“The million dollars, Mr. Norton,” said Larry calmly. “I’m from the
_Leader_, and I’ve been following you several days.”
“The million dollars,” whispered Norton huskily. “The million
dollars--yes--yes----”
With a hand that trembled he reached for the spark and gasoline
levers, and closed them. The car which had been throbbing and
trembling, for it was running free with the clutch out, after the stop
became silent. Larry had also shut off his power.
“Well?” asked Larry significantly.
“I--er--I--” began the man, his voice shaking.
“Wait!” cried Larry sternly. “Don’t say you haven’t got it. It’s in the
valise you carry. I know the whole story! I’ve been on this case from
the beginning. I followed Witherby to Chicago, and found that he was
innocent. I know you are guilty. You have the million. I want it--for
the bank, and I’m going to get it!”
Larry’s voice rang out clearly.
“Mr. Norton, you may be a desperate man, but I’m desperate, too. I’m
going to get it, too. I’ll meet force with force!”
There could be but one meaning to that. Norton glanced apprehensively
at Larry. The young reporter had one hand in his coat pocket. For an
instant the absconder had a wild thought of fight or flight. And then
his nerve failed him, and he wilted.
He had made a hard journey, without proper food or sleep, and he was
all but exhausted. Larry, though having had a hard time, was still
fresh and vigorous. He faced the man relentlessly. Norton quailed
before the clear eyes of the young reporter.
“I--” he began again. Larry took a step toward him.
“There is the million!” the absconder suddenly exclaimed, and, tossing
aside a lap-robe, he disclosed a valise strapped to the seat beside
him. “Take it!” he cried. “I’m glad you found me. Now maybe I’ll get
some sleep!” and leaning his head on the steering-wheel, he sobbed
bitterly.
It was some minutes before Larry knew what to do, for he was much
affected. Then he said gently:
“Mr. Norton, you had better come back with me. If you flee it will only
make it worse for you, and you will be caught in the end. Will you
come?”
“Yes,” was the muffled answer. “This is the end. I’m all in!”
Larry reached for the valise, and opened it.
“The money’s all there, except a few thousands that I spent,” said
Norton. “I can pay those back by selling my house. Oh, what a life I’ve
led these last few weeks! What a life!”
It needed but a glance to show Larry that the million was almost
intact. Only one of the original packages of thousand-dollar bills had
been opened, and that was not much depleted.
“We’ll go back in my car,” suggested Larry gently. “I think it is in
better condition than yours, and we can send for yours later.”
Indeed, Norton had driven his car relentlessly and carelessly, and it
was much damaged.
Larry stowed the valise carefully in his auto, and then having placed
Norton’s car to one side of the road, the journey back to the nearest
town was begun. The two did not talk much on the trip. Norton sat
with bowed head, and occasionally tears fell from his eyes. Larry was
genuinely sorry for him, though he knew that punishment must follow,
even though the money was recovered.
“I’m afraid--it seems a harsh thing to do--but I’m afraid I shall have
to give you into custody,” said Larry gently, as they reached the
outskirts of the New York town.
“Yes,” was the quiet answer. “I sha’n’t resist. I--I think perhaps
to-night I may get some sleep, even though in a police cell. You--you
don’t know what it is to lie awake--night after night--listening for
some one to come and--and arrest you,” he faltered.
Poor, weak Norton was taken to the town jail, and, out of his own
pocket, Larry arranged for better care of the prisoner than would
ordinarily have been given. For Norton did not retain one cent for
himself. He insisted on emptying his pockets into the valise containing
most of the million.
“It all belongs to the bank,” he said simply. “I’ll make up the rest.”
“I’m sorry that I have to write unpleasant things about you,” said
Larry, as he thought of the necessity of getting a story to the
_Leader_. “But it is my duty.”
“I know,” answered the absconder simply. “I’ll tell you all that you
don’t know, which isn’t much, I guess,” and he smiled sadly. “I’ll tell
you how I got the money.”
Which he did. It was very simple. For a long time he had noticed
that large sums were often put in the bank’s valise, to be taken by
messengers to various financial institutions in New York. This valise,
after being filled and locked, would be set down near the cashier’s
desk, until the messengers called for it, or until the Consolidated men
were ready to take it away.
It was from this that Norton got the idea that he could take this bag
unobserved, and substitute for it another just like it, but containing
bricks instead of bills. He resolved to take a large sum instead of a
comparatively small one, and bided his time.
Though he had lived a quiet life up to the time of his temptation, he
had in the past few months lost much in speculation, and he needed a
large sum to meet his debts. So he decided to take the million.
The first thing needed was a valise exactly like the one used by the
bank. Norton got off one day, put on a false beard, and bought the
valise of Miss Mason.
The fact that he and Witherby looked alike from the back had deceived
the young lady.
Once he had the duplicate valise, Norton filled it with bricks from
some left by a mason who made repairs at his house. No one saw him take
them, as he wrapped them up after dark.
On the day before the million was to be taken from the Consolidated
to the other bank, Norton came to work in the morning carrying the
duplicate valise As the clerks often came to the bank, thus equipped to
go off on a week-end trip, nothing was thought of Norton’s act.
He put his valise--filled with bricks and newspapers as it was--in a
small cupboard under his desk, which was a portion of the long, high
one in the rear of the grilled cage.
Previously Norton had taken two of the old ledgers from the vault, and
had cut off their leather backs. He also had a bottle of liquid glue in
readiness.
The million dollars was placed in the mesh-lined bag, and set down on
the floor near the chief cashier’s desk. It was now time for Norton to
act. Watching his chance, he quickly “switched,” or transferred, the
bags. The one containing the million he placed in his cupboard, and his
own, with the bricks in, he placed beside the cashier’s desk. Then he
closed the cupboard door, and went on with his work. No one had noticed
his act. This seems incredible, but almost exactly the same thing was
done in a big bank robbery in New York City not many years ago, and the
newspapers of November, 1904, tell all about it.
Norton explained to Larry that the exchange was made in about five
seconds, and at the time most of the other clerks, or cashiers, in the
cage had their backs toward him. What followed is well known.
The messengers departed with the false bag, and the robbery was
discovered. But no one knew who had taken the money, nor where it was.
No one dreamed that it was in the cupboard, under the desk at which
Norton was so innocently working.
Watching his chance, the absconder slipped into the vault with the
bag containing the million. Unobserved he pulled out the two ledgers,
smeared some liquid glue on their backs, and stuck the backs on the
narrow end of the valise. The valise, with the money, he slipped into
the space occupied by the books, the ledger backs being outward. It
fitted perfectly, and no one looking at the row of old ledgers in the
vault would have suspected that two of them consisted of backs only.
They were just then, however, worth half a million each. The bulky
pages of the ledgers, and the side covers, Norton hid under a pile of
dusty, old books.
He now had the million safely hidden away, and it was an easy matter
for him, each day, to slip into the vault, and take out a bundle or two
of bills. For he had access to the vaults, often having to consult the
books there. He always took care to go in alone. In this way, in about
a week, he had removed the million, leaving the valise where Larry
found it.
And so he got the money, and no one suspected him, for he had a good
reputation, and he remained at his work in the bank, though how much
nerve it took only he knew.
The rest of the story, how Larry followed the wrong man, though the one
to whom suspicion pointed, has been told.
“And now I’m ready to take my medicine,” finished Norton. “I thought,
after deciding it was time for me to escape, that I could get away. But
you caught me. Go, send in your story, Mr. Dexter.”
Which Larry did, by long distance ’phone. It was too late for the
regular edition of the _Leader_, but Mr. Emberg ordered an extra, and
thus Larry secured one of the biggest scoops of his life. For the story
was a “beat,” and Peter Manton, when the extra came out, said:
“I told you so. I knew Larry would pull it off!”
“Extra! Extra!” yelled the newsboys, with copies of the _Leader_ under
their arms, as they raced about the City Hall, and along Park Row.
“Extra! Full account of the million-dollar robbery! Robber caught!
Million found! Reporter solves de big bank mystery!”
There is little more to tell. After telephoning in his story Larry
deposited the money in the town bank, and started for New York. He
bade Norton good-bye--and a sad farewell it was, but the clerk looked
better than he had when Larry stopped him so suddenly on the road.
“I couldn’t have kept my secret much longer,” he confessed. “All the
while I was working in the bank I never knew at what moment suspicion
would fall on me. I’m glad it’s over.”
And Larry was, too, for he had worked hard. The million was soon
taken back to the Consolidated Bank, and Norton was given a trial. He
received a comparatively light sentence, in consideration of pleading
guilty, and of returning the million, for he deeded his house to the
bank. I am glad to be able to say that, years afterward, he came from
prison a changed man, and until his death led an upright life.
“Well, Larry, I suppose you’ll give up reporting now,” said his mother,
several days after the big case had ended. “You certainly don’t need to
work so hard, after getting that big reward.”
“Oh, I can’t give up the newspaper business, mother,” he replied. “The
ten thousand dollars is a nice sum, but I didn’t work up the case for
that. I did it for the story and the ‘beat.’”
For Larry had refused to accept the full reward, but he took half, and
donated the rest to a hospital recently founded by the doctor who had
cured Lucy of her spinal trouble.
“Quit the newspaper game? I guess not!” cried Mr. Emberg, when Larry
told him of Mrs. Dexter’s wish. “We need you on the _Leader_, Larry.
I’ll save the next big assignment for you.”
And what that assignment was, and how Larry “covered” it, may be
learned by reading the next book of this series, to be called “Larry
Dexter and the Stolen Boy; or, A Chase on the Great Lakes.”
“Mr. Dexter, I congratulate you,” said Director Wilson to Larry one
day. “I admit I didn’t take much stock in you at first, but you have
won me over. It was a great piece of work. And to think you thought my
protégé, Witherby, was the thief!”
“Well, even he admitted that I had a good case against him,” said
Larry. “By the way, how is he coming on?”
“Splendidly! He is going to be a great actor some day. I am glad I
helped him, though I don’t say he did just right in leaving the bank so
suddenly.”
Larry thought the same thing, and as he recalled the various steps he
had taken in solving the bank mystery he had no regrets, for he knew
that he had acted for the best, and had followed only natural clews.
And now, for a time, we will take leave of the young reporter.
THE END
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.
The list of titles referred to in the front matter is not included
in this eBook.