CHAPTER V.
MARK AS A HERO.
THE situation was critical. That the wild-eyed visitor was demented,there was hardly a doubt, but his madness was of a most dangerouscharacter.
The eyes of all were fixed with terror upon the innocent-looking valisewhich he held in his left hand, and in the mind of all was the terriblethought, DYNAMITE!
"Well, will you give me the money?" demanded the crank fiercely.
"I--I don't think I have as much money in the office," stammered thepallid banker.
"That won't work," exclaimed the visitor angrily. "If you can't find itI will send you where you won't need money," and he moved his arm as ifto throw the valise on the floor.
"I--I'll give you a check," faltered Luther Rockwell, the banker.
"And stop payment on it," said the crank with a cunning look. "No, thatwon't do."
"Give me half an hour to get the money," pleaded Rockwell desperately."Perhaps twenty minutes will do."
"You would send for a policeman," said the intruder. "That won't do, Imust have the money now. Or, if you haven't got it, bonds will answer."
Luther Rockwell looked helplessly toward the two clerks, but they wereeven more terrified than he. There was one to whom he did not look forhelp, and that was the telegraph boy, who stood but three feet from thecrank, watching him sharply. For a plan of relief had come into the mindof Mark Mason, who, though he appreciated the danger, was cooler andmore self-possessed than any one else in the office.
Standing just behind the crank, so that he did not attract hisattention, he swiftly signaled to the clerks, who saw the signal but didnot know what it meant. Mark had observed that the dangerous satchel washeld loosely in the hands of the visitor whose blazing eyes were fixedupon the banker. The telegraph boy had made up his mind to take adesperate step, which depended for its success on rapid execution andunfaltering nerves.
Luther Rockwell was hesitating what reply to make to his visitor'sdemand when Mark, with one step forward, snatched the valise from theunsuspecting visitor and rapidly retreated in the direction of the twoclerks.
"Now do your part!" he exclaimed in keen excitement.
The crank uttered a howl of rage, and turning his fierce, bloodshot eyesupon Mark dashed towards him.
The two clerks were now nerved up to action. They were not cowards, butthe nature of the peril had dazed them. One was a member of an athleticclub, and unusually strong.
They dashed forward and together seized the madman. Mr. Rockwell, too,sprang from his seat, and, though an old man, joined the attackingparty.
"Quick!" he shouted to Mark. "Take that valise out of the office, andcarry it where it will do no harm. Then come back!"
Mark needed no second bidding. He ran out of the office and down-stairs,never stopping till he reached the nearest police station. Quickly hetold his story, and two policemen were despatched on a run to Mr.Rockwell's office.
They arrived none too soon. The crank appeared to have the strength ofthree men, and it seemed doubtful how the contest between him and thethree who assailed him would terminate.
The two policemen turned the scale. They dexterously slipped handcuffsover his wrists, and at last he sank to the floor conquered. He waspanting and frothing at the mouth.
Luther Rockwell fell back into his seat exhausted.
"You've had a trying time, sir!" said one of the policemen respectfully.
"Yes," ejaculated the banker with dry lips. "I wouldn't pass through itagain for fifty thousand dollars. I've been as near a terrible death asany man can be--and live! But for the heroism of that boy--where is he?"
The question was answered by the appearance of Mark Mason himself, justreturned from the police station.
"But for you," said the banker gratefully, "we should all be ineternity."
"I too!" answered Mark.
"Let me get at him!" shrieked the crank, eying Mark with a demoniachatred. "But for him I should have succeeded."
"Was there really dynamite in the bag?" asked one of the policemen.
"Yes," answered Mark. "The sergeant opened it in my presence. He saidthere was enough dynamite to blow up the biggest building in the city."
"What is going to be done with it?" asked the banker anxiously.
"The policemen were starting with it for the North River."
"That's the only safe place for it."
"If you have no further use for this man we'll carry him to thestation-house," said one of the officers.
"Yes, yes, take him away!" ejaculated the banker with a shudder.
Struggling fiercely, the crank was hurried down the stairs by the twoofficial guardians, and then Mr. Rockwell, who was an old man, quietlyfainted away.
When he came to, he said feebly, "I am very much upset. I think I willgo home. Call a cab, my boy."
Mark soon had one at the door.
"Now, I want you to go with me and see me home. I don't dare to go bymyself."
Mark helped the old gentleman into his cab, and up the stairs of hisdwelling. Mr. Rockwell paid the cab driver adding, "Take this boy backto my office. What is your name, my boy?"
"Mark Mason, No. 79."
Luther Rockwell scribbled a few lines on a leaf torn from his memorandumbook, and gave it to Mark.
"Present that at the office," he said. "Come round next week and seeme."
"Yes, sir," answered Mark respectfully, and sprang into the cab.
As he was riding through Madison Avenue he noticed from the window hisuncle Solon and Edgar walking slowly along on the left hand side. At thesame moment they espied him.
"Look, father!" cried Edgar in excitement. "Mark Mason is riding in thatcab."
"So he is!" echoed Mr. Talbot in surprise.
Catching their glance, Mark smiled and bowed. He could understand theiramazement, and he enjoyed it.
Mechanically Mr. Talbot returned the salutation, but Edgar closed hislips very firmly and refused to take any notice of his cousin.
"I don't understand it," he said to his father, when the cab had passed."Doesn't it cost a good deal to ride in a cab in New York?"
"Yes. I never rode in one but once, and then I had to pay two dollars."
"And yet Mark Mason, who is little more than a beggar, can afford toride! And last evening he was at the theater in company with afashionable young lady. Telegraph boys must get higher pay than hesaid."
"Perhaps, Edgar," suggested his father with an attempt at humor, "youwould like to become a telegraph boy yourself."
"I'd scorn to go into such a low business."
"Well, I won't urge you to do so."
Meanwhile Mark continued on his way in the cab. As he passed City HallPark Tom Trotter, who had just finished shining a gentleman's boots,chanced to look towards Broadway. As he saw his friend Mark leaning backin the cab, his eyes opened wide.
"Well, I'll be jiggered!" he exclaimed. "How's that for puttin' onstyle? Fust thing you know Mark Mason will have his name down wid deFour Hundred!"
It did not occur to Mark to look at the paper given him by Mr. Rockwelltill he got out of the cab.
This was what he read:
* * * * *
MR. NICHOLS: Give this boy ten dollars.
LUTHER ROCKWELL.
* * * * *
His eyes flashed with delight.
"This is a lucky day!" he exclaimed. "It's worth while running the riskof being blown up when you're so well paid for it."
Nichols, the chief clerk, at once complied with his employer'sdirections.
"You're a brave boy, 79," he said. "If it hadn't been for you, we'd allhave been blown higher than a kite. How did you leave Mr. Rockwell?"
"He seems pretty well upset," answered Mark.
"No wonder; he's an old man. I don't mind saying I was upset myself, andI am less than half his age. You were the only one of us that kept hiswits about him."
"Somehow I didn't think of danger," sa
id Mark. "I was considering how Icould get the better of the crank."
"You took a great risk. If the valise had fallen, we'd have all gone up,and he pointed significantly overhead. I am glad Mr. Rockwell has givenyou something. If he had given you a hundred dollars, or a thousand, itwouldn't have been too much."
"He told me to call at the office next week."
"Don't forget to do it. It will be to your interest."