CHAPTER VI

’TWAS A SWEET BABE

To get out of town I determined to do at the first opportunity, and

by railroad too. I looked up the best hotel I could find on short

notice and consulted a time-table. A train was due eastward in forty

minutes. It would be a bold move to get out of town thus, but I vowed

I’d attempt it. I was certain that one man, or indeed two travelling

together, would be objects of suspicion, so I went to the reading-room

and waited an opportunity to strike an acquaintance with at least

three men who would leave the hotel and walk to the depot together.

My efforts in that direction were unfruitful as far as getting into

conversation with those I desired to. However, while waiting the

unexpected to turn up, I glanced at a newspaper, in which was a long

article, with big head-lines, about the bank loot. According to a

statement by the authorities, there was no possibility of the two men

still at liberty getting away from that section of the country. They

were certain to be arrested. One part of the story which interested me

not a little was the sequel of the exciting experience I had had the

night I returned to get George Wilson’s treasure satchel. It seemed

that a scheme had been laid by the enemy to capture the remainder of

us by using the satchel as a bait. In searching our camp they found

Wilson’s money and bonds under the log. It was their opinion that

men who dared so much to rob the bank would not abandon nearly half

a hundred thousand dollars without an effort to regain it, so it was

schemed to place a guard in hiding close by the satchel and wait, if

necessary, a week. In the meantime, if the fugitives were not arrested

elsewhere, one or both of them might visit the camp, when they felt

convinced that the enemy had given up the search and had of course

overlooked the money. It appears that I had approached the spot so

cautiously that none of the watchers had heard me, nor could they see

me easily, the night, as it will be remembered, being not over light.

I laughed to myself, and was on the point of bursting into a roar at

what I read next, when I subdued the inclination in time. When I, so

fortunately as it now appeared, tumbled the stone down the hillside,

the enemy were lured into the belief, as I hoped they would be, that

one or more of their game had come to the scene; and it was in their

mind, that the satchel had been secured and was being carried off,

and that the trap had been discovered. The tearing of the stone on

its way downhill through the leaves and bushes was taken to mean the

fleeing of more than one burglar, and after the stone went the deluded

deputies. For more than an hour they beat about the woods and then

scattered in different directions, to remain on watch for the game

should they start from cover before morning. The newspaper told with

great simplicity how the astute burglars had fooled the deputies, and

gloated over the fact that the treasure satchel had been found and of

my futile attempt to get it. Fortunate indeed was the rolling downhill

of that stone. To me it was a lucky-stone of the right sort. I was

mighty near jail that night.

My attention was drawn from the paper at this point by the announcement

that the east-bound train was due. Immediately a porter appeared with

several men, guests of the hotel, and passed out into the street. I

felt sure that here was my opportunity. I allowed the party to get a

short distance ahead. To my satisfaction two men, behind whom walked

the porter, formed one group. The situation could not have been more

to my liking,--excepting the assurance that I was safely out of my

troubles. I walked up to the porter and opened a conversation.

“You started for the train sooner than I expected,” I said, slipping

a half-dollar piece in his palm. He had never set eyes on me until

that minute. Seeing I had struck the right gait by means of the tip, I

continued: “Your house is giving much better service now than when I

was here last year. I’m very much pleased with it indeed.”

Before we had gone a quarter of the way to the depot, I had

accomplished what I started out to do--placing myself on the basis of

a long-standing acquaintanceship with the porter, so far as outward

appearances were concerned. The tip was an excellent lubricant for his

tongue, too, the rattling of which would have tortured me unmercifully

under other conditions. I wanted it to run at its speediest notch

on this occasion, and it did wonders. No opportunity on my part was

neglected to keep it in motion. In the meantime we were falling behind

the two guests, and that we might get closer I forged on a mite; enough

to make the porter step a little faster. I wanted it to appear that

I was the third member of this group of departing guests. On getting

to the platform of the depot I felt like congratulating myself on the

splendid manner in which my ruse had worked. It was well for me, I

think, that I had thus planned, for about the first person my eyes met

was a deputy sheriff, who was joined by another almost immediately

after my arrival. I needed no one to tell me they were officers of the

law, their actions plainly indicating the country sheriff. But I didn’t

hesitate. Keeping as near to the porter and his group as I safely

could, I bought a ticket for Pittsburg, and when it was not wise to

stay too near them I walked in the shadows at the end of the platform.

It was a season of great anxiety to me, which was only removed when the

train came in on time. Casting a last sly glance in the direction of

the deputies, noting that they were peering closely at this and that

person, I boarded the first coach, and when the depot was left behind

began to feel that I was really out of the lion’s jaws. I was soon

rapidly going from the scenes of my ugly experiences, by means far more

satisfactory than walking railroad ties.

My next anxiety was over the detectives at the depot in Pittsburg. They

were in the employ of the railroad, and had been pointed out to me by

Eddie Hughes when we were there before the start for the Cadiz robbery.

I was obliged to change cars there, and would have to wait an hour for

the train on the connecting road. The newspaper I had read at the hotel

recited the offering of a reward for the capture of the two burglars

yet at large, and I felt that the railroad sleuths might be on the

watch for a man about my size. Feeling apprehensive, I knew, would not

assist me a whit; therefore, upon arriving at Pittsburg about half-past

one in the morning, I immediately ascertained the exact leaving time

of my next train and hurried from the depot. Happily for me, not a

detective was in sight, and feeling glad of it, I went in search of a

restaurant, finding one, fortunately, two blocks away.

With the knowledge that I was at last nearing food and an opportunity

to possess it, came a most distressing pain in my stomach. It seized

me with so great a force that I was almost compelled to cry out. Only

the thought that I might have to be sent to a hospital, which would,

perhaps, lead to my apprehension, kept me from succumbing. Grinding my

teeth to buoy up my courage, I went in the restaurant and ordered a

portion of whiskey and swallowed it at a breath. I followed that with

another. While I was meditating over what I would eat, the stimulant

began to have a beneficial effect. My body was strengthened and nerves

soothed. Sensibly, I ordered poached eggs, ate a little bread with them

and drank generously of coffee. By the time I had finished my first

meal in one hundred and four hours, it behooved me to get back to the

depot, which I did, not long before the train arrived.

A railroad detective was there, but he seemed to pay no attention

to me, being more interested in pickpockets than in bank looters, I

guessed after slyly looking him over. I climbed in the second coach

the moment the train came in, but as I did so I observed that he went

in the first. It occurred to me that he would pass through the whole

train, scrutinizing the passengers. My imagination made it easy for me

to believe that he was, after all, looking for any one answering the

description of the Cadiz burglars. I began looking for some sort of

an aid in the way of diverting his attention from me, should he pass

through my car. I had provided myself with a ticket to Altoona, not

deeming it wise to get a through ticket to New York, and it occurred

to me that it might be wisdom on my part to postpone my journey until

another train. But fate played a trump card for me in saving the only

vacant sitting in the car, and that was beside a very pretty young

woman who was holding on her lap about the cutest two-year-old cherub

my eyes ever dwelt on. The mother, for so she proved to be, was well

dressed, and had an exceedingly refined face. I considered it fortunate

that I could sit beside her in the predicament I believed myself in.

She graciously permitted me to occupy the seat, whereupon I immediately

put on my best deportment, and much to my satisfaction we were in a

quiet conversation when the detective walked through the car, paying

not the slightest attention to me. Perhaps my precaution was not at

all necessary, but I will not believe until this day that it was not

a wise action on my part. I have travelled many thousands of miles on

railroads, since that long-ago day, and, as I think of it now, that was

one of a very few occasions when I sought out a woman for a companion

on a train.

I soon learned that she was going to Harrisburg, that her husband was

a dry-goods merchant there, and that she’d been away visiting and

was anxious to get back, which accounted for her travelling at that

unseemly hour.

It was not at all to my liking to be untruthful to so sweet a woman,

but I was forced to for self-preservation. I told her that I was a

salesman for A. T. Stewart and Company of New York, and was on the

way to Philadelphia on business. I wondered if her husband bought

his goods in the New York market, and when she said no and added

that he believed that Philadelphia was the better place to trade, I

good-naturedly disagreed with her, winding up by telling her that she’d

better advise Mr. Harrisburg to investigate the New York market, and

the prices of A. T. Stewart and Company in particular. She smiled at

what she believed to be my warm recommendation of the firm employing

me. We were chatting on the most familiar terms when we reached

Altoona, whereat I politely requested her to join me at a meal in the

Logan House. She accepted the invitation, and I, in as calm a manner

as possible, lifted the child, sleeping, like an angel in all its

innocence, thus relieving my matronly companion, and escorted her to

the dining room. After eating a hasty meal, for which the dear little

woman insisted upon paying her share, and I as insistently declining to

let her, I purchased a ticket for Philadelphia, and we got on the train

again. The child was awake by this time, and on much of the journey

to Harrisburg I fondled, danced, kissed, and, I must declare, came to

love that dear parcel of sweet babyhood. I will not open my soul enough

to tell all the twinges of remorse that seized upon me as I pressed

the smooth, rosy cheeks to my lips, time and time and again, while the

mother, God bless her, looked proudly, innocently on, happy that even

a stranger could be won by her babe. I bade these companions farewell

at Harrisburg and never saw them more. While serving me as a shield to

ward off the minions of the law, I shall ever regret that circumstances

were so ordered that I was compelled to tell base lies to so goodly a

woman as she seemed to be, and I have no doubt was. Though many years

have passed since then, that babe’s innocent face and merry prattle

still live in my memory.

I got to the Quaker City at four o’clock in the afternoon without

any happening worth mentioning, and, purchasing a complete change of

clothing, including underwear, went to the Girard House, where I bathed

my body, supped like a prince, and laid myself wearily in a soft bed,

it being the first one in ten never-to-be-forgotten days, and slept,

dreamlessly, until very late the next morning. That afternoon I was

back in New York.

From Boniface to Bank Burglar; Or, The Price of Persecution How a Successful Business Man, Through the Miscarriage of Justice, Became a Notorious Bank Looter · 第 6 / 26 章