THE TRAIN ROBBERY.
When Grit had delivered the bonds at the bank, a great load seemed to be
lifted from his shoulders. Especially after he had been robbed on the
train, he realized the degree of risk and responsibility involved in the
custody of so valuable a packet.
The officials at the bank seemed surprised at the youth of the
messenger, but Grit felt at liberty to explain why he was selected as a
substitute for the regular messenger.
Leaving our hero for a time, we go back to Chester to speak of other
characters in our story.
Ephraim Carver, the bank messenger, went to the bank at the hour of
opening to receive the package of bonds which he expected to convey to
Boston. He had no suspicion that his negotiations of a previous evening
had been overheard and reported to the president. He felt somewhat
nervous, it is true, for he felt that a few hours would make him a rich
man. Then the risk involved, though he did not consider it to be great,
was yet sufficient to excite him.
He was admitted into the president's room, as usual.
Mr. Graves was already in his office, but his manner was his ordinary
one, and the messenger did not dream that the quiet official read him
through and through and understood him thoroughly.
"You know, I suppose, Mr. Carver," said President Graves, "that you are
to go to Boston by the next train."
"Yes, sir."
"The packet you will carry is of unusual value, and requires an unusual
degree of care and caution."
"Yes, sir."
"It contains thirty thousand dollars in government bonds," said the
president, laying his hand on the prepared packet, which was in the
usual form. "That is a fortune in itself," he added, closely
scrutinizing the face of the messenger. He thought he detected a
transient gleam of exultation in the eyes of the bank messenger.
"Of course," he proceeded, "if it were known that you carried a packet
of such value, there would be great danger of your being robbed.
Indeed, you might be in some personal danger."
"Yes, sir."
"But as it is only known to you and the officers of the bank, there is
no special danger. Still, I advise you to be more than usually vigilant,
on account of the value of your charge."
"Oh, yes, sir, I shall take good care of it," answered Carver, reaching
out his hand for the packet.
"Let me see, how long have you been in the employ of the bank?" asked
the president.
"Nearly three years, sir."
"You have found it a light, easy position, have you not?"
"Yes, sir, though, if you will allow me to say so, the salary is small."
"True; but the expenses of living in Chester are small, also. However,
we will not discuss that question now. Possibly at the end of the year,
if they continue satisfied with you, the directors may increase your
salary slightly. There cannot be a large increase."
"I may not need an increase then," thought Carver. "With five thousand
dollars to fall back upon, I shall feel independent."
"You will report to me when you return," said Mr. Graves, as the
messenger left the bank parlor.
"Yes, sir, directly."
The president fixed his eyes upon the vanishing figure of the messenger,
and said to himself:
"My friend, you have deliberately planned your own downfall. Greed of
money has made you dishonest, but your plans are destined to miscarry,
as this time to-morrow you and your confederates will be made aware."
"Now," thought the bank messenger, as he bent his steps toward the
railway station, "the path is clear. Here is what will completely change
my fortunes, and lift me from an humble dependent to a comfortable
position in life."
Then he thought, with some dissatisfaction, that he was to receive but
one-sixth of the value of the bonds, and that the man who employed him
to betray his trust would be much more richly paid. However, in his
case, there would be no risk of being personally implicated. No one
could prove that he had allowed himself to be robbed. Even if suspicion
fastened upon him, nothing could be proved. So, on the whole, perhaps it
was better to be content with one-sixth than to incur greater risk, and
the dread penalty of imprisonment for a term of years.
On the railroad platform Carver glanced furtively about him. He easily
recognized Brandon and Travers, who stood side by side, each having
provided himself with a ticket. They on their side also glanced swiftly
at him, and then turned away with a look of indifference. But they had
not failed to notice the important packet which the bank messenger
carried in his hand.
"It is all right!" was the thought that passed through their minds.
There was another passenger waiting for the train, whom they did not
notice. He was a small, quiet, unpretentious-looking man, attired in a
suit of pepper and salt, and looked like a retail merchant in a small
way, going to Portland or Boston, to order goods. They would have been
very much startled had they known that it was a Boston detective, who
had been telegraphed for by Mr. Graves, and that his special business
was to follow them and observe their actions.
When the train reached the station Carver got in, and took a seat by
himself in the second car. Just behind him sat the two confederates,
Brandon and Travers, and in line with them, on the opposite side of the
car, sat the quiet man, whom we will call Denton.
Ten minutes before the train reached Portland Ephraim Carver left his
seat, and very singularly forgot to take the parcel, of which he had
special custody, with him. It was a remarkable piece of forgetfulness,
truly.
But his oversight was not unobserved. Travers sprang from his seat, took
the parcel, and following the messenger overtook him at the door of the
car.
He tapped Carver on the shoulder, and the latter turned round.
"I beg pardon," said Travers, "but you left this on the seat."
As he spoke he handed a packet to Carver.
"A thousand thanks!" said the messenger hurriedly. "I was very careless.
I am very much indebted to you."
"I thought the packet might contain something valuable," said Travers.
"At any rate, I should not like to lose it," said the messenger, who
appeared to be properly on his guard.
"Oh, don't mention it," said Travers politely, and he walked back and
resumed his seat beside Brandon.
The quiet man, to whom we have already referred, noted this little piece
of acting with a smile of enjoyment.
"Very well done, good people," he said to himself. "It ought to
succeed, but it won't."
His sharp eyes had detected what the other passengers had not--that
Travers had skilfully substituted another package for the one he had
picked up from the seat vacated by Carver.
Carver passed on into the next car, and Denton now concentrated his
attention upon Brandon and Travers.
He noticed in both traces of joyful excitement, for which he could
easily account. They thought they had succeeded, and each mentally
congratulated himself on the acquisition of a neat little fortune.
"They will get out at Portland," thought Denton, "and take account of
their booty. I should like to be there to see, but I am instructed to
follow my friend the bank messenger to Boston, and must, therefore,
forego the pleasure."
At Portland, Brandon and Travers got out of the cars, and took a hack to
the Falmouth Hotel.
They went to the office, and, calling for the hotel register, carefully
scanned the list of arrivals.
The afternoon previous they found entered the name of Colonel Johnson.
"Is Colonel Johnson in?" asked Brandon.
"We will ascertain," was the reply.
The bell-boy who was despatched to inquire returned with the message
that Colonel Johnson would see the gentlemen.
They followed the attendant to a room on the third floor, where they
found their employer pacing the room in visible excitement.
"Give me the parcel," he said, in a peremptory tone.
He cut the strings, and hastily opened the coveted prize.
But his eager look was succeeded by black disappointment, as, instead of
the bonds, he saw a package of blank paper of about the same shape and
size.
"Confusion!" he ejaculated; "what does all this mean? What devil's mess
have you made of the business?"