THE ROBBERY AT THE BANK
Dan Speedwell, in Mr. Briggs’ maroon car, was at first badly frightened,
and then angry. The pressure of the muzzle of a revolver against his
stomach precluded his seeing the humor of the situation.
“Ouch!” he exclaimed. “Take it away!”
“Surrender!” cried the man with the weapon, and then Dan realized that
his captor was Josiah Somes, one of Riverdale’s constables, and a
pompous, officious little man.
“Surrender, in the name of the law!” repeated Mr. Somes, using the
instrument a good deal like a gimlet.
“Oh!” gasped Dan. “Who do you think you’ve got hold of, Somes?”
“Eh? Ye know me, do ye?” growled the constable. “Then, Mr. Bank Robber,
you know that Josiah Somes ain’t to be fooled with.”
“I don’t want to fool with you when you act so careless with that
pistol. Take that gun away!” cried Dan.
“Hold up your hands!” ordered Mr. Somes. “I’ve got to search you.”
By this time one of the other men in the strange automobile, had gotten
out, and brought a lantern to the side of the maroon car. He flashed the
light into the boy’s face, and at the same moment Dan recognized Hiram
Baird, the cashier of the Farmers’ Bank.
“Mr. Baird!” gasped Dan. “Take him away, will you?”
“Dan Speedwell!” rejoined the cashier, in amazement. “Why, how is this?”
“One of them Speedwell boys!” cried Somes, glaring into Dan’s face, and
dropping the pistol’s point, to Dan’s great relief.
“That’s certainly who it is,” said the cashier of the bank.
“Wa’al! It’s nothing more than I could expect,” said Somes, shaking his
head. “Them boys are always racing around the country on them motor
wheels of theirn—huh! Where’s the other robbers?” and he grabbed Dan by
the collar.
“What do you mean?” demanded the boy, angrily.
“You helped them get away,” declared the constable. “The car was seen
standing before the door of the bank after hours. They shut Mr. Baird
into the strong room and he was almost smothered before the president
came back and found him there.”
This garbled account of a very interesting happening was sufficient for
the moment to explain his position to Dan. He knew now why the trio of
men in the first maroon car had refused to halt when they had wrecked
Maxey Solomons’ automobile.
“You’ve made a mistake, gentlemen,” said Dan, quietly. “I really wish
you would put up that gun, Mr. Somes. You’ll do yourself, or me, an
injury.”
“Yes, do put away the pistol, Josiah,” urged Mr. Baird.
“But this young villain——”
“Nonsense, Josiah!” exclaimed the cashier. “We know Dan is not mixed up
in the robbery.”
“Then how came he by the car? A maroon car. This is it—I’m positive of
it.”
“No it isn’t,” declared Dan.
“But, really, Dan,” said Mr. Baird, puzzled, “I saw the car stop at the
bank door myself, and this one looks just like it.”
“And what happened then?” asked Dan, curiously.
“Two men came in. The third sat where you do—in the driver’s seat. It
was after three, but the door had not been locked. I was alone. One of
the men covered me with a pistol, and the other locked the door. Then
they backed me into the vault and locked it. We had not put away the
money. They got fifteen thousand dollars in bills and specie. They might
have got much more had they known where to look for it. I had to stay in
the vault until Mr. Crawley came in at half-past five.”
“And they sent for _me_,” added the pompous Somes, “and put me on the
case. I remembered, of course, seeing this maroon car standing by the
bank.”
“Not _this_ car,” urged Dan, again.
“Why ain’t it?” snapped the constable.
“Because this car is the property of Mr. Briggs—and you don’t accuse him
of being a bank robber, do you?”
“Mercy!” ejaculated Mr. Baird. “One of our largest depositors!”
“Well!” cried Somes. “How came you with the machine?”
Dan repeated the narrative of his adventures that afternoon and evening.
Mr. Baird, of course, saw how reasonable it was, and believed him. Somes
disliked to say he was mistaken.
“I think I’d better arrest him, and take the machine back to town, Mr.
Baird,” he said.
“Nonsense!” exclaimed the cashier. “Get into Mr. Crawley’s machine here,
and let us follow the trail Dan has told us of. Perhaps Mr. Armitage and
Mr. Briggs have caught up with the thieves.”
Dan was much excited by the story of the robbery. To think that the bold
thieves had ridden down the river road out of the town, and within a
short distance of the scene of their first crime, had committed the
desperate act which (so Dan supposed) had brought about Maxey Solomons’
serious injury, or death, and the wrecking of that youth’s automobile!
They were certainly desperate characters. He hoped, with all his heart,
that the gentlemen whom he had left in pursuit, and Deputy Sheriff Polk,
would apprehend them. But he did not believe Josiah Somes would be of
much aid.
Dan came safely to Holliday’s garage and delivered the maroon car, to be
called for by its owner. Then he got upon his Flying Feather and motored
home as quickly as possible, for it was already late and he and Billy
had the milk to pick up at Mr. Speedwell’s dairies.
His younger brother had arrived at home ahead of him; but before he left
town Dan had learned how Maxey Solomons had been saved. Billy, however,
had something on his mind, and he even listened to Dan’s tale of his
“arrest” by Josiah Somes without showing very much interest.
“What’s the matter with you, boy?” demanded Dan, as they finally
finished the chores about the stable and milkhouse and sat down a few
minutes on the granary stairs before going into the house for the night.
“What makes you think there’s anything the matter?” returned Billy,
quickly.
“Come on, boy! ’Fess up,” laughed Dan. “What’s on your mind? If it’s
anything good, don’t keep your brother out of it; and if you’re in a fix
of any kind, maybe I can help you.”
“You’re all right, Dan. But I reckon this is something I’ve got into
myself, and I mean to stand by it,” admitted Billy. “I expect you’ll
think I’m crazy.”
“Don’t know. Can’t say. Open up!” urged his brother.
“Well—I’ve bought an automobile!” blurted out Billy Speedwell.
“You’ve done _what_?”
Billy repeated his statement, gloomily enough. Dan stared at him in the
light of the barn lantern and remarked:
“Well, you don’t look any crazier than common. And I expect you’re
telling me the truth. But I don’t understand it. How did you buy it—from
whom—what with?”
“Hold on!” exclaimed Billy. “Let me tell you all about it.”
“That’s right. It don’t sound very real to me,” said Dan, rubbing his
head. “By the way, where’s the machine?”
“Up in the air,” returned Billy, with a grin.
“Huh! in a garage attached to one of those ‘castles in Spain’ that they
tell about?”
“I bought Maxey’s wrecked machine. I paid five hundred dollars for
it—or, I promised to do so on Monday—and I don’t even know whether I can
get the thing out of the tree where it’s roosting!”
Billy blurted all this out in a hurry. The information left Dan fairly
speechless.