TRACKING THE THIEF
Fosdick was right in supposing that Jim Travis had stolen the
bank-book. He was also right in supposing that that worthy young man
had come to the knowledge of Dick’s savings by what he had accidentally
overheard. Now, Travis, like a very large number of young men of his
class, was able to dispose of a larger amount of money than he was able
to earn. Moreover, he had no great fancy for work at all, and would
have been glad to find some other way of obtaining money enough to pay
his expenses. He had recently received a letter from an old companion,
who had strayed out to California, and going at once to the mines had
been lucky enough to get possession of a very remunerative claim. He
wrote to Travis that he had already realized two thousand dollars from
it, and expected to make his fortune within six months.
Two thousand dollars! This seemed to Travis a very large sum, and quite
dazzled his imagination. He was at once inflamed with the desire to go
out to California and try his luck. In his present situation he only
received thirty dollars a month, which was probably all that his
services were worth, but went a very little way towards gratifying his
expensive tastes. Accordingly he determined to take the next steamer to
the land of gold, if he could possibly manage to get money enough to
pay the passage.
The price of a steerage passage at that time was seventy-five
dollars,—not a large sum, certainly,—but it might as well have been
seventy-five hundred for any chance James Travis had of raising the
amount at present. His available funds consisted of precisely two
dollars and a quarter; of which sum, one dollar and a half was due to
his washerwoman. This, however, would not have troubled Travis much,
and he would conveniently have forgotten all about it; but, even
leaving this debt unpaid, the sum at his command would not help him
materially towards paying his passage money.
Travis applied for help to two or three of his companions; but they
were all of that kind who never keep an account with savings banks, but
carry all their spare cash about with them. One of these friends
offered to lend him thirty-seven cents, and another a dollar; but
neither of these offers seemed to encourage him much. He was about
giving up his project in despair, when he learned, accidentally, as we
have already said, the extent of Dick’s savings.
One hundred and seventeen dollars! Why, that would not only pay his
passage, but carry him up to the mines, after he had arrived in San
Francisco. He could not help thinking it over, and the result of this
thinking was that he determined to borrow it of Dick without leave.
Knowing that neither of the boys were in their room in the daytime, he
came back in the course of the morning, and, being admitted by Mrs.
Mooney herself, said, by way of accounting for his presence, that he
had a cold, and had come back for a handkerchief. The landlady
suspected nothing, and, returning at once to her work in the kitchen,
left the coast clear.
Travis at once entered Dick’s room, and, as there seemed to be no other
place for depositing money, tried the bureau-drawers. They were all
readily opened, except one, which proved to be locked. This he
naturally concluded must contain the money, and going back to his own
chamber for the key of the bureau, tried it on his return, and found to
his satisfaction that it would fit. When he discovered the bank-book,
his joy was mingled with disappointment. He had expected to find
bank-bills instead. This would have saved all further trouble, and
would have been immediately available. Obtaining money at the savings
bank would involve fresh risk. Travis hesitated whether to take it or
not; but finally decided that it would be worth the trouble and hazard.
He accordingly slipped the book into his pocket, locked the drawer
again, and, forgetting all about the handkerchief for which he had come
home went downstairs, and into the street.
There would have been time to go to the savings bank that day, but
Travis had already been absent from his place of business some time,
and did not venture to take the additional time required. Besides, not
being very much used to savings banks, never having had occasion to use
them, he thought it would be more prudent to look over the rules and
regulations, and see if he could not get some information as to the way
he ought to proceed. So the day passed, and Dick’s money was left in
safety at the bank.
In the evening, it occurred to Travis that it might be well to find out
whether Dick had discovered his loss. This reflection it was that
induced the visit which is recorded at the close of the last chapter.
The result was that he was misled by the boys’ silence on the subject,
and concluded that nothing had yet been discovered.
“Good!” thought Travis, with satisfaction. “If they don’t find out for
twenty-four hours, it’ll be too late, then, and I shall be all right.”
There being a possibility of the loss being discovered before the boys
went out in the morning, Travis determined to see them at that time,
and judge whether such was the case. He waited, therefore, until he
heard the boys come out, and then opened his own door.
“Morning, gents,” said he, sociably. “Going to business?”
“Yes,” said Dick. “I’m afraid my clerks’ll be lazy if I aint on hand.”
“Good joke!” said Travis. “If you pay good wages, I’d like to speak for
a place.”
“I pay all I get myself,” said Dick. “How’s business with you?”
“So so. Why don’t you call round, some time?”
“All my evenin’s is devoted to literatoor and science,” said Dick.
“Thank you all the same.”
“Where do you hang out?” inquired Travis, in choice language,
addressing Fosdick.
“At Henderson’s hat and cap store, on Broadway.”
“I’ll look in upon you some time when I want a tile,” said Travis. “I
suppose you sell cheaper to your friends.”
“I’ll be as reasonable as I can,” said Fosdick, not very cordially; for
he did not much fancy having it supposed by his employer that such a
disreputable-looking person as Travis was a friend of his.
However, Travis had no idea of showing himself at the Broadway store,
and only said this by way of making conversation, and encouraging the
boys to be social.
“You haven’t any of you gents seen a pearl-handled knife, have you?” he
asked.
“No,” said Fosdick; “have you lost one?”
“Yes,” said Travis, with unblushing falsehood. “I left it on my bureau
a day or two since. I’ve missed one or two other little matters.
Bridget don’t look to me any too honest. Likely she’s got ’em.”
“What are you goin’ to do about it?” said Dick.
“I’ll keep mum unless I lose something more, and then I’ll kick up a
row, and haul her over the coals. Have you missed anything?”
“No,” said Fosdick, answering for himself, as he could do without
violating the truth.
There was a gleam of satisfaction in the eyes of Travis, as he heard
this.
“They haven’t found it out yet,” he thought. “I’ll bag the money
to-day, and then they may whistle for it.”
Having no further object to serve in accompanying the boys, he bade
them good-morning, and turned down another street.
“He’s mighty friendly all of a sudden,” said Dick.
“Yes,” said Fosdick; “it’s very evident what it all means. He wants to
find out whether you have discovered your loss or not.”
“But he didn’t find out.”
“No; we’ve put him on the wrong track. He means to get his money
to-day, no doubt.”
“My money,” suggested Dick.
“I accept the correction,” said Fosdick.
“Of course, Dick, you’ll be on hand as soon as the bank opens.”
“In course I shall. Jim Travis’ll find he’s walked into the wrong
shop.”
“The bank opens at ten o’clock, you know.”
“I’ll be there on time.”
The two boys separated.
“Good luck, Dick,” said Fosdick, as he parted from him. “It’ll all come
out right, I think.”
“I hope ’twill,” said Dick.
He had recovered from his temporary depression, and made up his mind
that the money would be recovered. He had no idea of allowing himself
to be outwitted by Jim Travis, and enjoyed already, in anticipation,
the pleasure of defeating his rascality.
It wanted two hours and a half yet to ten o’clock, and this time to
Dick was too precious to be wasted. It was the time of his greatest
harvest. He accordingly repaired to his usual place of business,
succeeded in obtaining six customers, which yielded him sixty cents. He
then went to a restaurant, and got some breakfast. It was now half-past
nine, and Dick, feeling that it wouldn’t do to be late, left his box in
charge of Johnny Nolan, and made his way to the bank.
The officers had not yet arrived, and Dick lingered on the outside,
waiting till they should come. He was not without a little uneasiness,
fearing that Travis might be as prompt as himself, and finding him
there, might suspect something, and so escape the snare. But, though
looking cautiously up and down the street, he could discover no traces
of the supposed thief. In due time ten o’clock struck, and immediately
afterwards the doors of the bank were thrown open, and our hero
entered.
As Dick had been in the habit of making a weekly visit for the last
nine months, the cashier had come to know him by sight.
“You’re early, this morning, my lad,” he said, pleasantly. “Have you
got some more money to deposit? You’ll be getting rich, soon.”
“I don’t know about that,” said Dick. “My bank-book’s been stole.”
“Stolen!” echoed the cashier. “That’s unfortunate. Not so bad as it
might be, though. The thief can’t collect the money.”
“That’s what I came to see about,” said Dick. “I was afraid he might
have got it already.”
“He hasn’t been here yet. Even if he had, I remember you, and should
have detected him. When was it taken?”
“Yesterday,” said Dick. “I missed it in the evenin’ when I got home.”
“Have you any suspicion as to the person who took it?” asked the
cashier.
Dick thereupon told all he knew as to the general character and
suspicious conduct of Jim Travis, and the cashier agreed with him that
he was probably the thief. Dick also gave his reason for thinking that
he would visit the bank that morning, to withdraw the funds.
“Very good,” said the cashier. “We’ll be ready for him. What is the
number of your book?”
“No. 5,678,” said Dick.
“Now give me a little description of this Travis whom you suspect.”
Dick accordingly furnished a brief outline sketch of Travis, not
particularly complimentary to the latter.
“That will answer. I think I shall know him,” said the cashier. “You
may depend upon it that he shall receive no money on your account.”
“Thank you,” said Dick.
Considerably relieved in mind, our hero turned towards the door,
thinking that there would be nothing gained by his remaining longer,
while he would of course lose time.
He had just reached the doors, which were of glass, when through them
he perceived James Travis himself just crossing the street, and
apparently coming towards the bank. It would not do, of course, for him
to be seen.
“Here he is,” he exclaimed, hurrying back. “Can’t you hide me
somewhere? I don’t want to be seen.”
The cashier understood at once how the land lay. He quickly opened a
little door, and admitted Dick behind the counter.
“Stoop down,” he said, “so as not to be seen.”
Dick had hardly done so when Jim Travis opened the outer door, and,
looking about him in a little uncertainty, walked up to the cashier’s
desk.