I did everything just as the letter said. Mrs. Bradford was a
suspicious kind of woman. She lived in a cellar kind of place below
the street level. She asked me about a thousand questions before she
would let me in. But I wasn't afraid of her. Suspicious people are
generally easy to fool.*
* Pretty good observation for eighteen years old!
B. E.
No. -- East Fifty-Ninth street is an old building that is let out in
stores and studios. Mrs. Mansfield's room was second floor rear. I
couldn't look around much the old woman watched me so close. It was
just an ordinary furnished room, nothing rich like the Lexington avenue
house. There was an alcove with a bed in it. The only thing funny was
the number of trunks standing around. I counted seven of them. They
had covers and cushions on them.
The safe was a little one. I opened it all right. There was nothing
in the main part but a lot of papers and the little satchel. There was
an inside locked compartment. After I locked the safe again the old
woman made me destroy the combination before her eyes. I paid her the
money, put the keys in my pocket, and she hustled me out. That's all.
Yours respectfully,
R. A.
After this followed a period of strained anxiety for me. I could not
stay near Blondy, of course, and I was afraid the man we hoped to get
might circumvent him in some way. Maybe instead of telephoning him he
would call on him in person. Blondy was instructed of course in that
event to hang on to him like grim death, but how could I expect a boy
of his age to get the better of an astute crook?
However, this fear proved groundless. On Thursday morning about eleven
Blondy called me up. I instantly knew by his breathlessness that
something had happened.
"Guy just called up," said Blondy. "Said: 'Have you got the keys?' I
came back: 'Who are you?' 'Thomas Wilkinson.' 'O.K.,' said I. Then
he started in quick to give me my instructions."
"I must take the twelve noon train from the Long Island Terminal for
Greenwood City. I get off at Greenwood City and walk one block North
to Suffolk avenue which is the main street of the village. I turn to
the right on Suffolk which is to say turn East or away from New York,
and keep straight on right out of town to the wide, empty stretch of
land that they call Ringstead plains. I have to walk about two miles
out this road. Half a mile beyond the last house there's a locust tree
beside the road. He said I couldn't miss it because it was the only
tree standing by itself as far as you could see. Motor cars pass up
and down the road frequently. But I must not accept a ride if it's
offered to me. I must sit down under this tree as if I was tired and
stay there ten minutes or so, until anybody who may have seen me stop
there will have passed out of sight. Then I am to leave the keys on
the ground behind the tree and walk back to Greenwood City, and take
the first train for New York. If he gets the keys all right, he said
he would send the money in a package by mail to-morrow."