ROBBERY
The tramp stood with his face glued to the pane, looking in at the boy. He
could not quite understand what had taken place, but gathered that the old
man was dead.
"So much the better!" he said. "It will make my task easier."
He had hoped to find both asleep, and decided to wait near the house till
the boy went to bed. He had made many inquiries at the store of Joe Marks,
and the answers led him to believe that old Peter had a large amount of
money concealed in his cabin.
Now Tom Burns was a penniless tramp, who had wandered from Chicago on a
predatory trip, to take any property he could lay his hands on. The chance
that presented itself here was tempting to a man of his character.
Earlier in the evening he had reached the cabin, but thought it best to
defer his work until later, for Ernest was awake and stirring about the
room.
The tramp withdrew from the cabin and lay down under a tree, where he was
soon fast asleep. Curiously it was the very oak tree under which Peter's
little hoard was concealed. This of course he did not know. Had he been
aware that directly beneath him was a box containing a hundred dollars in
gold he would have been electrified and full of joy.
Tom Burns in his long and varied career had many times slept in the open
air, and he had no difficulty in falling asleep now, and when he woke it
was much later than he intended. However, without delay, he made his way
to the cabin, and arrived just as Ernest discovered the death of the old
man whom he had supposed to be his uncle.
What time it was the tramp did not know, but as he stood with his face
glued to the window-pane he heard a clock in the cabin striking the hour
of three.
"Three o'clock," he ejaculated. "Well, I did have a nap!"
The boy was awake, and he thought it best to wait a while.
"Why didn't I get here a little sooner?" he grumbled. "Then I could have
ransacked the cabin without trouble. Probably the old man has been dead
some time."
He watched to see what Ernest would do.
"He won't be such a fool as to sit up with the corpse," he muttered a
little apprehensively. "That wouldn't do no good."
Apparently Ernest was of this opinion, for after carefully covering up the
inanimate body he lay down again on his own bed.
He did not fall asleep immediately, for the thought that he was in the
presence of death naturally affected his imagination. But gradually his
eyes closed, and his full, regular breathing gave notice that he was
asleep.
He had left the candle burning on the table. By the light which it
afforded the tramp could watch him, and at the end of twenty minutes he
felt satisfied that he could safely enter.
He lifted the window and passed into the room noiselessly. He had one eye
fixed on the sleeping boy, who might suddenly awake. He had taken off his
shoes and left them on the grass just under the window.
When Tom Burns found himself in the room he made his way at once to the
trunk, which his watchful eye had already discovered.
"That's where the old man keeps his gold, likely," he muttered. "I hope it
isn't locked."
Usually the trunk would have been fastened, but the conversation which
Ernest had with old Peter so engrossed his mind as to make him less
careful than usual. Tom Burns therefore had no difficulty in lifting the
lid.
With eager fingers he explored the contents, and was not long in
discovering the box which contained the two gold coins.
The discovery pleased and yet disappointed him.
"Only ten dollars!" he muttered. "There ought to have been a pile of these
yellow boys. Perhaps there are more somewhere."
Meanwhile he slipped the two coins into his vest pocket. It was not much,
but it was more than he had had in his possession for months.
He continued his search, but failed to discover any more money. He felt
indignant. That a miser should have but a paltry ten dollars in his trunk
was very discreditable.
"He must have some more somewhere," Burns reflected.
It occurred to him that there might be hoards hidden under the floor, or
in the immediate neighborhood of the cabin. But it was night, and there
would be no profit in pursuing the search now.
"To-morrow," he reflected, "the boy will be off, making preparations for
buryin' the old man, and then I can make another visit."
He closed the lid of the trunk, and with a general glance to see if there
was anything more worth taking he rose to his feet and prepared to leave
the room.
Just at this moment Ernest, who was probably dreaming of the old man,
spoke in his sleep.
"Uncle Peter," he murmured.
The tramp stood still, apprehensive that Ernest would open his eyes and
detect his presence. But the boy did not speak again.
"I had better get," muttered Burns.
He got out of the window quietly, but as the boy stirred again he hurried
away without stopping to shut it.
When, a little after seven o'clock, Ernest woke up, the sun was streaming
in at the open window, and the cool air entered with it.
"How came the window up?" thought Ernest, wondering. "I am sure I didn't
leave it open last night."
There was nothing else to indicate that the cabin had been entered. But
the more Ernest thought it over the more convinced he was that there had
been a visitor.
What could have been his motive?
With sudden suspicion he went to the trunk and opened it. It was evident
that things had been disturbed. His eyes sought the box that contained the
gold pieces. He opened it, and found that he had been robbed.
"Who could have done it?" he asked himself.
He could not think of anyone. He was acquainted with everyone in the
village, and he knew none that would be capable of theft. He never thought
of the ill-looking tramp he had met in Joe Marks's store.
Ten dollars was a considerable loss to him, for he had estimated that it
would defray the expenses of old Peter's interment. It was not so bad as
it might have been, for the hundred dollars of which Peter had told him
were still safe.
"When I get that I must be careful," he said to himself.
Though his rest had been disturbed, he felt ready to get up. There was
work for him to do. He must arrange for the burial of the old man with
whom he had lived so long, the only friend he felt he could claim.
Ernest rose, and after dressing himself made a frugal breakfast. He looked
sadly at Peter. Death was to him something new and strange, for he did not
remember ever having seen a dead man before. He must get help, and with
that object in view he went to the village, and sought the store of Joe
Marks.
"What brings you out so early, my lad?" asked Joe.
"Matter enough, Joe. My uncle is dead."
He still called him uncle, though he knew now that Peter was no kin to
him.
"Old Peter dead!" ejaculated Marks. "When did he die?"
"Some time during the night. I wish you'd help me, for I don't know what
to do."
"So I will, boy. We'll stand by you, won't we, Luke?"
This was said as Luke Robbins entered the store.
"To be sure we will, Ernest. We all like you."
"Oh, I forgot to say," continued Ernest, "the cabin was entered last night
and some money taken."