Read Under Orders: The story of a young reporter Page 20


  CHAPTER XVIII.

  WHO ROBBED THE SAFE?

  WHILE Myles Manning was struggling with one of the great trials ofhis life in New York, events were taking place at Mountain Junctionin which he would have been greatly interested had he known of them.In the first place, Ben Watkins’ uncle, the division superintendent,had returned, and, with the powerful aid of the 50th Regiment, N. G.S. N. Y., was proceeding vigorously against the railroad strikers inthat part of the country. Several leaders were arrested and locked upto await trial, but Jacob Allen, who was supposed to be chief amongthem, was not to be found, though every effort was made to discoverhis hiding-place and a large reward was offered for his apprehension.He had not been seen in town since the morning of his rescue from thejail, and, though his little house was closely watched, it could notbe discovered that he had any communication with his family. Still,the efforts for his capture were not relaxed, for the fall term ofcourt would open at Mountain Junction on the following Monday, and itwas deemed important that Allen’s case, together with those of hisassociates, should then be tried.

  The second event of interest to Myles was the return to town of BenWatkins himself, and the consequences that followed immediately uponit. He had been released by the strikers who captured him, togetherwith Lieutenant Easter and his command, in a town about forty milesaway, and left at liberty to work his way back as best he could. Thishe succeeded in doing, and he reached Mountain Junction about the sametime as his uncle.

  Ben became greatly excited when he learned of his uncle’s return andof Myles Manning’s departure. He inquired at the hotel office if thelatter had left any letter or package for him, and on being told thathe had not the young man broke forth into a torrent of abuse, notonly against Myles, but against all reporters, whom he denounced asa prying, sneaking set of fellows, unfit to be admitted into decentsociety.

  All this was heard by several persons, including Billings, who,concealed behind his immense shirt-collar, was sitting in the hoteloffice. He listened quietly for a few minutes, but when Ben began toinclude all reporters in his abuse the little man could no longer standit. He jumped up and, stepping squarely in front of the bully, declaredthat he was a reporter, and demanded that the other make an instantapology for his words, or prepare to suffer the consequences.

  “And who will make me suffer, I should like to know?” cried Ben, gazingwith contempt upon the absurd figure cut by this champion of reporters.

  “Perhaps I will,” answered Billings, affecting his languid drawl, “orperhaps I will leave it to my friend, ‘Lord Steerem,’ don’t you know.”

  “You impudent puppy!” screamed Ben in a fury, now recognizing Billingsas the reporter who had made him the laughing-stock of all New London.“If you weren’t so small as to be beneath contempt I’d thrash you towithin an inch of your life. Now clear out of here before I hurt you,and don’t you ever dare come in my way again.”

  “I’m a little threshing-machine myself,” answered Billings, coolly,“and I am geared up to just about your size, Mr. Bigman, So come on ifyou dare. I don’t care that”—snapping his fingers in Ben’s face—“foryou or your bluster.”

  Ben aimed a blow at him, which the reporter cleverly dodged. Beforethere was a chance for another, the by-standers, who were vastlyentertained by Billings’ exhibition of pluck, rushed in and separatedthe two, declaring that Ben ought to be ashamed of himself to strike ata fellow not half his size.

  Ben sulkily left the hotel, vowing vengeance against both Billings andMyles, while the little man, who was prevented from following him,entertained his captors with the story of “Lord Steerem,” the famouscoxswain.

  The division superintendent was a harsh man, who entertained noaffection for his nephew, and had only given him his position becausehe was his brother’s son. He suspected Ben’s unfitness for the place,and had been on the point of discharging him several times. Now, whenBen entered the office, he found his uncle greatly dissatisfied withhis conduct of affairs during the preceding four days.

  “If it had not been for your overbearing manner and absurd display ofauthority,” he said to Ben, “there would have been no serious outbreakhere, nor any destruction of the company’s property. Now I’ll troubleyou for the key to the safe.”

  With all his known faults Ben had never been suspected of dishonesty byhis uncle, who was obliged to trust his assistant implicitly in manythings.

  Ben hesitated a moment and then said that he had left the key in hisroom for greater safety, and would be obliged to go there for it.

  “A pretty place your room is to leave a thing of such value!” growledthe superintendent. “You should not have let it go out of yourpossession for an instant.”

  “I was afraid I might be robbed by the strikers,” answered Ben.

  “Nonsense! The strikers are not the sort of fellows to rob individuals.You ought to know that as well as I. Now hurry up and get the key. Imust have the books out of the safe at once.”

  Ben left the office and in a few minutes returned. With a well assumedair of agitation he said that the key was nowhere to be found, andthat it must have been stolen from his room during his absence fromtown.

  “Whom do you suspect of stealing it?” demanded his uncle.

  “I don’t suspect anybody unless it is some of the strikers.”

  “The strikers again! Always the strikers,” sneered the other. “Well,sir, we will soon find out. If the key was stolen it was done for thepurpose of robbing the safe. I shall have the lock picked, and if anything is missing I will believe that the key was taken from your roomas you say. If every thing is all right in the safe I shall be forcedto believe that you have lost the key, and have trumped up this storyto conceal your carelessness. In that case the position of assistantsuperintendent of this division will instantly become vacant, for Ishall have no further use for you.”

  An hour later the lock was picked and the safe opened. Thesuperintendent carefully examined its contents, taking from it everybook and bundle of papers.

  “Well, sir,” he said, turning to Ben after satisfying himself thatevery thing was as he left it, “what have you to say now?”

  “I don’t see any money package,” answered Ben, stooping and peeringinto the empty safe.

  “Money package! What money package?”

  “One containing a thousand dollars that came by express from thetreasurer the day you went away. I receipted for it in your name andlocked it up in the safe, but it doesn’t seem to be there now.”

  “No, I should say it wasn’t!” exclaimed the superintendent, ratherstaggered by this proof that his nephew’s story of being robbed wastrue, and, searching his face keenly, “You are sure there is no mistakeabout that package?”

  “Certainly not, sir. You will find a copy of the receipt I gave for itin the blotter and the sum entered in the cash-book.”

  Examination proved both of these statements to be true.

  “Did you say that the money came from the treasurer’s office?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then one or more of the bills it contained must have been marked, forthat is a precaution I never knew the treasurer to neglect.”

  A dispatch sent to the general office of the company, informing thetreasurer of the robbery and asking if any of the bills in that packagecould be identified, set his clerks to examining a certain littlememorandum-book.

  In a very short time a reply reached Mountain Junction. Yes, in packagenumber so and so, containing one thousand dollars, sent to the divisionsuperintendent on such a date, one fifty-dollar bill was privatelymarked in the manner usual with the treasurer.

  On the following day the division superintendent spent several hours inthe only bank of Mountain Junction, where he and the cashier closelyexamined every fifty-dollar bill among its deposits, but none bearingthe private mark of the treasurer of the railroad company was to befound. Just as they had satisfied themselves of this the proprietor ofthe principal hotel came in to make his weekly deposit
of funds, whichhe always did on Saturday.

  After he had gone the cashier returned to the private office in whichthe superintendent still sat.

  “Here are two more fifties that have just come in,” he said. “Perhapsyou had better look at them.”

  The first one was not marked, but the second! Yes, it bore the fatalsign, a tiny red cross made in a spot where it would never be detectedunless a person knew just where to look for it.

  “Then you’ve struck the trail at last?” said the cashier.

  “Yes, and I’ll follow it up close while it is fresh,” answered thesuperintendent. “What a bit of luck it is that this very bill should bepassed right here in town. Why, we’ll have the thief locked up insideof three days.”

  Then the superintendent went to the hotel, and taking the proprietor toone side, asked him if he could recollect taking in any fifty-dollarbills during the past week.

  “Yes, I took in two of them, and have just now deposited them alongwith some other money in the bank,” was the answer.

  “Can you remember who gave them to you?”

  “Oh, yes; one came from a drummer who left on Monday, the day beforethe strike broke out, and the other came from a New York reporter, whoonly went away yesterday.”

  “Was there any unusual circumstance attending the receipt of either ofthese bills?”

  “No—why, yes, there was too! The reporter was an impudent young dog,and didn’t have any money when I first asked him to pay his bill. Hewas going out of town and I made him leave his watch as security.The next morning he redeemed it and paid his bill with one of thosefifties.”

  “Do you remember his name?”

  “No; but it is on the register. Here it is. Manning; Myles Manning, NewYork City. I think he was a friend of your nephew. Anyhow, they haddrinks together the night he came.”

  “Will you kindly send a messenger to my office with word that I shouldlike to see my nephew here for a minute?”

  “Certainly.”

  When Ben came he found his uncle sitting with the landlord in thelatter’s room.

  “Do you know a New York reporter named Manning?” was the first questionput to him.

  “To be sure I do. He was in my class at X——, and was out here thisweek doing the strike for the _Phonograph_.”

  “What sort of a character does he bear?”

  “Why, pretty fair, I believe; but of course I wouldn’t like to say anything against an old classmate.”

  “In the present case if you know any thing about the young man it isyour duty to tell it. He is suspected of taking that thousand dollars.”

  Ben gave a well-acted start of surprise.

  “Oh, that can’t be,” he said. “Myles Manning would never do such athing as that. He may be a little wild, but he couldn’t be a thief.”

  “What do you mean by a little wild?”

  “Oh, takes an occasional drink and plays a game now and then.”

  “Did you and he drink together the night he came here?”

  “I believe we did have one or two glasses.”

  “Did he get drunk?”

  “No, not exactly what you might call drunk.”

  “Did you play cards?”

  “Yes, we had a game or two.”

  “For money?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did Manning win?”

  “Well, no, not exactly.”

  “Did he lose?”

  “I believe he did.”

  “How much?”

  “Pretty near all he had, I guess. At least he complained of beingcleaned out.”

  “Did he complain of this to you?”

  “Yes, and tried to borrow money of me to pay his hotel bill.”

  “And you refused to lend it?”

  “Yes. I told him I was short myself.”

  “What did he say to that?”

  “Oh, he got mad and said he was bound to have his money back some way.”

  “Did you win his money?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Who did?”

  “I think Lieutenant Easter must have won it, for he was the only oneplaying with us.”

  “While Manning was in your room did he know that the key of my safe wasin your possession?”

  “I think he did.”

  “What makes you think so?”

  “Because it fell from my pocket when I drew out my handkerchief whilewe were playing cards, and I said then that I guessed it was not safethere, and that I should hide it in my room.”

  “Did he see where you put it?”

  “I don’t know, but he might have, for I had no thought of concealing itfrom him.”

  “Have you had any other cause to be suspicions of him?”

  “Not in connection with the money.”

  “In connection with any thing else, then?”

  “Well, he did seem to be pretty thick with the strikers.”

  “In what way?”

  “In telling them of our plans. Both Lieutenant Easter and I thought hetold them of our plan to send a train through, and so gave them thechance to capture it and us. Manning was with us, and when they askedhim what he was doing there, he produced a note from Jake Allen, whichsaid he was their friend and must be treated as such.”

  “How did they treat him?”

  “I don’t know; but he was the only one left behind when they carried usoff, and that looked very suspicious to me.”

  “Well,” said the superintendent, “from all accounts this Manning is afellow who will bear pretty close watching. I won’t say yet that herobbed my safe, but I must confess things begin to look that way. Iwish you would show me your room, Ben, and the one Manning occupiedwhile he was here.”

  So the superintendent, his nephew, and the landlord went up to No. 16,where Ben showed the corner of a bureau drawer in which he said the keyhad been hidden. Then they went to the room that had been Myles’, onlythree doors away. In answer to their knock Billings’ voice shouted:“Come in!” He now occupied it, and was sitting up by the window writing.

  “Excuse the intrusion,” said the landlord, “but these gentlemen have aparticular reason for wishing to see this room, and I thought perhapsyou would not mind.”

  “Oh, not at all,” answered Billings, scowling at Ben. “I will leave andlet them have it all to themselves if they say so.”

  They did not say so, and he did not leave, but sat watching themclosely and wondering what they were up to.

  Ben in particular seemed anxious to examine every article of furniturein the room very closely. He looked behind the bureau and peered underthe wash-stand.

  “What do you expect to find?” asked his uncle.

  “I don’t expect to find any thing, but I thought it just possible thathe might have hidden the envelope somewhere in this room if he took it.Of course he didn’t, though. He wouldn’t do such a thing. Hello! what’sthis?”

  As Ben uttered this exclamation he was gazing intently at the floorclose to one wall of the room and near the door.

  “What’s what? I don’t see any thing,” said his uncle, looking at thefloor.

  “Neither do I,” replied Ben, “but I just trod on something that feltlike paper under the carpet.”

  “Of course,” broke in the landlord, “we always put paper under ourcarpets.”

  “But this has a peculiar feeling, like an extra thickness of paper.”

  “Why don’t you look under the carpet, then, and see what it is?” askedthe superintendent.

  “I would rather not, uncle. He is my friend, you know.”

  “Nonsense! I hope he isn’t your friend if what we suspect of him istrue. But step out of the way and let me see what wonderful discoveryyou have made. It is probably only a crease in the floor paper.”

  So saying the superintendent stooped, inserted his hand beneath theedge of the carpet and drew forth the identical express envelope thatthe package of missing bills had come in.

  The three looked at each other without a word
, while Billings pretendedto have resumed his writing.

  When they were again in the landlord’s room the superintendent said:

  “Proof is accumulating so fast against this Manning that I shallprocure a warrant, send it on to our New York detective, and have himarrested.”

  “Oh, uncle, don’t do it?” exclaimed Ben. “Remember that he is agentleman, and that a thing of this kind would ruin him.”

  “Your kind heart does you credit, Ben, but in a case of this sortmercy must give way to justice. Yes, it is clearly my duty to have himarrested. At the same time I shall write out a full account of theaffair and send it to the president of the road, so that he will get itthe first thing Monday morning. He can then decide what is to be done.”

  The superintendent did as he proposed, and his letter was the first onePresident Walker Saxon, of the A. & B. Road, saw lying on his desk ashe entered his office Monday morning. He had intended stopping at theoffice of the _Phonograph_, in which he was a stockholder, and speakingto the city editor about Myles Manning, but as it was early he changedhis mind and decided that he would first go to his own office andglance over the mail.

  At the same time a dispatch directed to Myles lay uncalled for in thecity room of the _Phonograph_. It came from Billings, and was:

  “Look sharp, old man. Suspect B. W. is making trouble for you here. Do not know yet what it is, but will post you as soon as I get on the inside track. Pretty sure I shall have to thrash him yet.”