Evening Star Newspaper, August 15, 1896, Page 19

PART I. Mr. J. Woodbury Newcomb had devoted his life to the science of criminology, and at the age of fifty years he was prepared to claim a leading place among experts in that tmportant department of knowledge. Returning to his native land, after a three years’ tour abroad, Mr. Newcomb began at once to revisit the prisons which been so interesting to him. He inves- ereaiens moraltid ‘Henal institutions of w England, completing the work in the spring of the year 1808. Passing to New York state, he devoted some days to the study of the prison at Sing Sing, and then he ran upon the adventure which forms the basis of this narrative. In the afternoon of a pleasant day in May he boarded a train for New York at the Sing Sing station, and secured a seat in a parlor car. Passing to the smoking compartment, e few minutes after the train started, he found tt occupled by three men, whose ap- fle Found It Occupied by Three Men. pearance bespoke them pleasant companions on a journey. They were quietly dressed in clothes of a dark color, not fashionably designed as were those of Mr. Newcomb, but such as might be worn by well-to-do n«rchants from ihe interior of the state, on a visit to the metropolis. Their demeanor also favored the same hypothesis, for they exhi cence and the cau! icity. Mr. Newcomb’s first advances in the direc- tion of sociability were received somewhat subjected to a close er, he did not “ said Mr. New- % agreeably. “Tt is an excellent prison; the best that I was ever in.” this ren one of the men facing him a lout of his waistcoat pocket end handed it to his neighbor with the mut- tered comment that it was a gift, and not a bet. recipient of the money, respond- ing weomb'’s courteous observation, Sing Sing is a good werden's a gentleman. I feel you do about it. If I were to be i'd rather go there.” Was 8 surprised by th remark that, for a moment, he was unal hesitation was viewed with- by his companions, who seemed ly as an ev of a cau- who had addressed . and manifestly with id. ‘We're all in the and mighty glad of Newcomb, mildly, why the gen- id you the sum the matter is of I will not venture to in- d that it had some con- Tae said the other promptly. “I bet lar that you'd just got out of the he teok me up. Then you let out in Sing Sing, and so he set- sined tly. Newcomb, and he perceived that the had come. Instead of king to cr:minals through the bars of lis, and in his character of the sin- i of the sinful, he was to be re- ceived into the'r confidence, as one of them- : initlated into their mysteries; re- galed with their stories told without reser- vation or motive for falsehood. The ad- venture would be the climax of his life's work. ‘as a fool to make the bet,” said the “Anybody can see what you are— nybody in the business. You're a confidence operator, that's the size of you, and I'll put up dollars to doughnuts that few tan touch you in your line.” “You flatter me," said Newcomb. turn, let me introduce myself. Woodbury—John Woodbury.” “In re- My name is “A good name," said one of the crooks, and the others nodded. “I’m Jack Pinney,” the criminal con- tinued. “If you want to know any more about me, ask the police. The gentleman | on my right is Bill Harris, better known than I am. On my left you will observe a tall, blond beauty who calls himself Frank Gleason. He is so smooth that he ean slide rp hill. He has been everywhere, speaks 100 languages, and cannot tell the truth in Following this introduction there was an interval of si during which Newcomb tly regarded the interesting trio into kind Providence had thrown Harris was rather short in stature and had a tendency to corpulency, which even the carefuily selected diet provided by the state had not wholly repressed. His face was firm, expressing the stolid pride of the euccessful business man. It was clear that he was one who despised frivolity and put his trust In hard and conscientious toil. Pinney was dark and lean—a man full of nervous energy. He had the ready address of the traveling salesman, and the super- ficial honesty which !s so necessary to that profession. Gleason, as has been disclosed, was of the blond type. He had an alr of cultivation and the manners of one who has moved in good society. Yet he was never the same man for many minutes consecutively, being totally destitute of sincerity. His bearing and even his countenance varied with the theme of his conversation; and he could seem to be anything from a Malay pirate to your family paysician. : ‘Can't you tell us a story, Mr. Wood- bury?” said Pinney. “We've got time on our hands and this compartment to our- selves. It se2ms to me that this crowd ought to spin some good yarns.” Nothing could have suited Newcomb bet- ter than this proposition. Stories were what he wanted, and he hastened to set the bail rolling by narrating an early ex- periencs which in certain compantes he might have kept to himself. But there he felt no hesitation. Even should the ‘story be repeated, no one would credit these men; and, in any case, the affair was so far in the past that it had taken on an im- personal characier in his thoughts. ‘My first crime,"he began; and Gleason interrupted, crying out: Good! I always like to hear about a n's first offense.” others coincided in this opinion, and mb continued: first crime possesses elements of neveity which, I think, will interest you. At that time I was a young man of very high ideals and ambitions. I believed that it was my misston to benefit the race. In short, | wished to be a philanthropist. But in order to fit myself for that calling, I felt tat an education was necessary. My par- ents had been peor, and I had obtained Very little schooling, though I had studied hard at ev epportunity. I longed for a lege training, and had a leaning toward viogical studies. nm this situation I applied to a wealthy uncle, who refused me cruelly. I could have borne his Woe seme: toward me, but his total laci® of sympathy with the cause to which I intended to devote my life shocked me unspeakably. I considered the matter thoroughly, and came to the conclusion that, for his own soul's sake, he should be forced to part with that smali part of his gigantic possessions for the geod of mankiad. “The way was easy. My uncle had a ttle boy—four years ol¢—of whom he was seid to be extremely fond. The child had never seen me, although I had often called | takirg fire. THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, AUGUST 15, 18996>-TWENTY-FOUR PAGES, upon my uncle both at his city house and at his magnificent summer residence on Long Island. My plan was to take away the child and hold him for a moderate ransom, barely enough to give me the edu- cation which was necessary to fit me for a useful career In the world. “After my uncle's refusal of my request, I made a considerable sudy of the situa- tion. The family was then at the country house, and I took lodgings near by. { soon discovered that the task which I had set myself would prove extremely easy. For a large part of every evening the child was left practically unguarded. The room where he slept was high up in the house, but one of {ts windows could be reached by @ series of ascents from one to another of the roofs of the various portions of the structure. To descend with the boy would have been no difficult undertaking for so active a youth as I then was. I believed that I could stifle his cries by wrapping his head in some soft coverings taken from his little crib. “In order to guard against discovery in case ‘he should make an outcry, I chose a night when there was to be a great ball at the house. The place would ring with mu- sic, and with the various noises incident to the festivities, I belleved that I could re- move the boy, undetected, and take him to @ fisherman’s hut in the woods, where I would care for him most tenderly until such time as the ransom should be paid. “At 10 o'clock of the night in question I stood beside the sleeping boy, and no one had seen me enter. With great dexterity I wound tke soft coverings about his head, giving him air, but smothering his cries. Then I bore him to the window. Thus far I had not the smallest reagon to suspect that my attempt had been discovered. What, then, was my surprise, when, of a sudden, the house was in an uproar. It was as if I had been detected in the act and the hundred guests of my uncle were rushing out of the house to pursue me. ‘For a moment I stood by the window, spellbound, utterly at a loss to understand tne situation. The most tremendous outcry rose all around me; and, at last, in the taidst of it I detected the horrible word ‘Fire! “Almost instantly a ewirl of smoke rose up to where I stood. Turning, I rushed to the door, and into the hall. The frightened maid, who should have thought only of her charge in that moment of peril, was fleeing down the stairs. I looked down after her, and saw a sheet of flame sweep across her path. She dashed through it, her garments It appeared that she escaped, “For a moment I stood by the win- dow, spellbound.” but no one could have gone down that way after her. The passage was blocked. I ran to another stairwey. It was impassable with smoke. ‘Nearly stifled, I rushed back to the win- dow. The smoke whirled after me, driving me to the roof. Then a part of the light fabric of the house, upon my left, blazed up. All was bright as day. Below me I saw many faces, and among them my un- cle's, and the agonized countenance of his wife. She wax on her knees. Her arms were extended toward the window of her child's room. “In the sudden glare my own form stood out clearly. +Instantly a great shout arose. Some called for ladders. Others cried to me to descend, this way or that. I knew the way well enough, and I climbed along the root with ease. But at last the fire came so near that I was forced to jump. It was only a little distance, but, hampered by my burden, which no danger would make me relinquish, I did not ailght squarely upon my feet, and so I sustained a painful Jury. But the child was wholly unharme The wrappings about his head had pre- vented him from trhaling fire or smoke. I placed him in his mother's arms and saw her tears fail upon his face. “A trifling exercise of ingenuity enabled me to account for my presence. I said that I had been loitering in the grounds, listen- ing to the music. After receiving the com- mendations of all I made my way to my lodgings with great difficulty, for, when | the excitement had in some degree left me, my injuries asserted themselves. I took Ye my bed at once and summoned a physi- clan. “The next day my uncle called, as I knew he would. I had prepared myself for the interview, and had resolved to take no more of the bounty that his gratitude would offer than enough for my frugal needs at collegs C “My uncle thanked me cordially, and pre- sented to me a silver watch which had long been an heirloom—so long, in fact, that it had ceased to have any value as a timepiece. In subsequent years I spent much money in the vain attempt to have it repaired. “I was in bed four weeks, but by the great skill of my physician I escaped being a cripple. His bill was $207, and as I had not the money, I referred the matter to my uncle, who advised me not to pay, on the ground that the charge was exorbitant. I did not take that view of it; I simply told the doctor that I had nothing. He then put the matter in the hands of an attorney. “Now, gentlemen, was it not clear that it was my uncie’s duty to pay that bill? I thought so then, and have never seen reason to change my mind. I argued and pleaded with him, but he refused. There was but one way in which I could make him do his duty and save the reputation of our family. I secured one of his check blanks and drew a check for the sum, signing my uncle’s name in a very careful and competent manner. The check, as I argued, would hardly be noticed in the bank account of a man so rich as my uncle was reputed to be. Yet, strangely enough, the check came back, not because of the signature, but because the account was al- ready overdrawn. “The doctor's attcrney made a great out- cry about it, and that led to the discovery of the fact that my uncle's wealth was a bubble. It also burst that bubble. His credit was gone, and that was all that he had had to live upon in some years. “Of course, he detected the forgery, but before he could get the machinery of jus- tice at work against me certain complica- tlons in his own affairs forced him to leave the country forever. My crime was never brought home to me; yet it seems to me that I was sufficiently punished by the loss of the college course which I should other- wise have had, and by the great trouble with that old silver watch. “Such, gentlemen, is the story of my first crime, frankly told. I trust that you will respond in the same spirit, with plain, un- varnished narratives.” “You can rely on me for that,” said Bill Harris, gazing at Newcomb with admira- tion. “I am only a second-rate Mar, any- way, and have no business in the present company. However, I will tell a true story by and by, but I think that Frank Gleason had better follow cur friend Woodbury, if there is no objection.” PART Il. To the imputation upon his veracity Frank Gleason retorted that the story which he was about to tell was strictly true. He added that a man who had led such a life as his did not need to invent stories of marvelous adventure. This prop- osition he proceeded to prove by sketching @ strangely varied career, with great clear- ness and exemplary brevity. “As to the lttle affair I’m going to tell you about,” he said at last, “tt was not much to boast of, and the only reason why I like to tell the story 1s because it marks the cross roads of life with me, It was the first time that ever I went wrong. “It happened this way, Brother FWooa- bury,” he continued, turning to the penol- ogist. “I was brought up in a western town, and got a fair education in the schools and in a little academy that the folks out there were rather proud of. A few years later I drifted into New York, without any money, and chanced to run across a man whom I had known at home, He had started with a little money, and had built it up to a fortune in New ‘York, He seemed to be glad to meet some one from the old place, and was sympathetic when he learned that I was out of. work and low tn potket. If I would call on him at his office the next day he would try to find me something to do. I went there, ex- becting to get a soft job, and what do you Cena! me The position of night Is furniture Toland Cley. ture factory in Long “From that moment I hated the man, and made up my mind to get square with him, That was the only reason why I took the Job. It was worth $10 a week. Think of that! Well, I went to work, and every week I charged him, in my mind, with the amount that he ought to have paid me over and above what I got. He was going in Gebt to me pretty fast, although he didn't know it. “Late one afternoon I went to the factory to begin my regular night's work. Gray- I'ing—that was his name—was in the office, talking with his partner, Bob Stetson. The office was a little one-story building con- nected with the factory by a covered walk. I saw the two men through a window. They were talking across a big pile of money that lay on Grayling’s desk. Pres- ently I saw Grayling put the money in the safe, and then Stetson went away. “A few minutes later I showed up in the office. Grayling told me he was going to be there till midnight, and that I needn’t come over from the factory before that time. Ordinarily I was supposed to make my regular rounds hourly. “Grayling went out for his dinner, and came back about 7 o'clock. I took a look at him through the window. He was at work on the books, and the safe was open. The money was in that safe. I had been thinking about that. It seemed to me that there ought to be some way to collect what Grayling owed me, according to my figuring. Probably I tould get a few dol- lars extra, if I worked it right. “I was new at that sort of business then, and naturally didn’t know just how to go to work. Of course, I might have walked into the office, and probably I could have krecked Grayling on the head without any trouble. But I hesitated at that. Murder isn’t in my line, and, besides, I didn’t know how much money there was in the pile that I had seen. Moreover, loaded revolver quite handy in a drawer of his desk, as I had discovered while glancing over his papers one night after everybody had gone home. “Perhaps I might have given up the job, but luck was in my favor. About 9 o'clock, as I was standing by the window of the office looking in, and thinking, a boy came along carrying a tin pail. He had his hand on the knob of the office door when I spoke to him. ““What have you got there? he told me it was coffee for Mr. “He always has it sent over when he works late,’ said he. ‘It's to keep him aweke, I suppose. I bring it around’ from the resiaurant, Just befcre we close up, and I put it on the gas stove in the back office so that it will Keep hot.’ ““That’s a pretty good dea,’ said I. ‘Could you get another pailful for me?” “He was ng; and after he had car- ried in Grayling’s coffee, he trotted back to the restaurant after mine. While he was gone, I ran aro the corner to a drug store, where I bought some laudanum othache. Pretty soon the boy cat h my pail of coffee, and I paid him When he had gone I dosed the said I; and Grayling. the pri coffee with laudanum very carefully, for I That didn’t want any accident to happen. vas why I got the second pailful. t if I tried to dose Grayling’ while it was on the stove and he in the next room, I might get nervous ‘and make a mistake. “Having fixed the coffee all right, I silp- ped tuto the back room through a rear door of which I had the key, and I shifted the two pails without making a sound. Then I took his pali over to the factory, and put it in a warm piace in the boiler room, thinking that I might need it later, to brace my nerve. I waited helf an hour by my watch—which appeared to be going a good deal slower than usual—and then I went into the passage that led to the office. I didn’t dare to open ihe door at first, but I could see fairly well through the kayhole. It was not so convenient as the window: but I didn’t ike to be seen there too often, in case anybody should be passing. “Grayling wzs drinking his coffee. There were two cupfuls. I was a-wishing that he wouldn't drink all of the last one; but he aid. age where I stood got hotter and hotter till the sweat ran off my forehead. I thought that he would hear tt dropping on the floor. “After ne had drunk his coffee, he sai down before his desk, and presently his head fell forward into his hands. I thought he was gone, but he roused himself; got up, and hegan to pace the floor. I heard him mutter about being sleepy. When he passed his chair I could see him through the key- hole, and I saw that he hesitated every time. He wanted to sit down; he wanted to throw his head upon his hands on that desk and sleep and sleep. I knew just how he felt, and I knew, too, that he would have to come to it before long. At last he sat down in a decisive way, shaking his head “I anw Grayling put the money in the anfe.” and shrugging his shoulders. He was go- ing to do some work. No more sleepiness for him. He picked up some papers and rattled them briskly. Then he began to crumple them in his fingers. His hands dropped upon the desk; his head dropped lower and lower over them, and suddenly he was asleep. Or dead? I didn’t dare to think of it. “I had watched him so closely that it seemed as if the drug had worked upon both of us, steadily, evenly. My arms and legs were like lead. But my head seemed to be cool—cooler than usual. I could think of an enormous number of things in a sec- ond. Some of them were of a nature to frighten a man. But then there was the money; I never quite forgot that. “Opening the door noiselessly, I entered the office and went to Grayling’s side. He was sound asleep. I turned to the safe. The money was there in a little drawer. It was locked, but the key was in the lock. My hand was on the key when I heard a sound—a footstep. Some one was coming. I was panic-stricken. Instinctively I-sprang behind one of the big doors of the safe. There I stood trembling, it seemed, a long time. I knew that some one was in the rocm, but how he had come or who he was I could not guess. “It was useless to stand there. Discovery was certain. There was no hope except in a bold and sudden dash. Drawing the re- volver which I carried for protection while on my watch, I sprang out into the room. In that instant I was face to face with Stet- son. It was his life or mine. I leveled the revolver at him. “ ‘Hands up!’ I cried. “ ‘Gleason!’ he screamed, starting back. ““That’s me, id I, ‘and I mean bust- ne: “He sank upon his knees. “ ‘In the name of heaven,’ he cried,hoarse- ly, ‘do not betray me. He drove me to it. With his infernal cunning he was dragging my share in our joint enterprise out of my han I had to kill him to save myself from ruin.’ “The back part of my mouth was so dry that it rustled when I tried to speak, and my brain was reeling, but I managed to gather sense enough to take the amazing tip that he had given me, and breath enough to say: ‘Sit down, Mr. Stetson, and try to be calm. I will hear your story. “It burst out of him like a torrent of fire. He told how Grayling had cheated him; had imposed upon his plicity to make him Grayling kept a | And while he was doing it, the pass- | ' sign documents that would beggar him. Those documents were in that safe,in Gray- ling’s private drawer. Yet to get them was not enough, ‘for he would still be in his part- ner’s clutch.; So he had planned murder. “Knowing Grayling’s habit ia the matter of coffee, he}had decided that therein lay his opportunjty. So he had provided him- self with had secreted himself in a closet inthe fick office—returning af- ter a pretel ot ving the factory as usual. Whend® had brought in the cof- fee, and had gone, Stetson had crept out of the closet} and_had poured his poison into the pail. she had. returned to his concealment. 3 “A few minutes ater I had come in, a humble Instrument in the hands of Provi- dence—and removed the pail which contained thé fatatdose, substituting that which I had mildly.-drugged. Often have I reflected, since that, how wonderfully I was guided on that night, and how merci- fully my life was spared. For I had come as near as possible to drinking the coffee which I had taken from that .room! 1 thought !t would brace my nerves, and only the sickening thought of the drug that I had used prevented me from taking the fatal dose. As It chanced, I poured It out upon the ground. “Returning now to Stetson, you will readily perceive how he came to take the couree he did. Being discovered by me be- side the body of his victim—as he sup- posed—there was no recourse for him but confession. Yet he begged that I would have mercy and shield him. “Well, now, do you know, Mr. Woodbury, I couldn’t do it. Of course, it wasn’t busi- ness. I might have been blackmailing him yet. But the fact is, that coming face to face so suddenly with a rascal worse than “Gleason?” he screamed, back, atarting elf made me an honest man by sheer ve of contrast. m sorry for you, Mr. Stetson, said I, ‘but 1 can’t shield a murderer. I must do my duty.’ “With that I threw open the window and called for help. It happened t there was a policeman on the corner. He came in response to my catl and arrested Siet- son, who was in a pitiable state of ccl- lap Then I got a doctor, who worked over Grayling until he brought him to his senses; but he said that a half hour more would have put the man beyond the reach of help. I don't believe it. In my opinion Grayiing would have waked ap all right; but naturally the doctor wanted as much credit as possible. “When the circumstances were explained to Grayling he was overcome with grati- tude toward me for saving his life. Well, 1 had saved it, though he diun't know just how it had been done. “He shook me warm- ly by the hand, and then, tottering over to the safe, he opened the Urawer and gave me the roll of bills that I had plauned to take.- The bills were all ones—s ven dollars in all. Suppose that I had killed him for go little! It wasn’t as much as he according to my calculation. But r tried to get even. I was afraid of is, Stetsyn got “Speaking of Tuck,” said Harris, when pason had concluded his story, “I should ay that was pretty goo “The worst luck in the world,” rejoined Gleason. “Nothing more disastrous can happen to a man than that he shouli es- cape just punishment for his first crime. Had I been fortunate enough to be caught it might have accomplished reform, such an escape as lhat which I have de- scribed led me to think myself the especial favorite of $ wal the tempter elvel and He pronounced t 1s. with, wood elocutionary effect, but they failed tovim= pres ewcomb, who had too eleariy in mind the character which Gleason had given himsdf In his tntroductory remarks. The criminologist made no verbal com- ment, however, byt contented himself with nyentally adding gross and palpable hy- pocrisy to the list of Gleason's crimes. “It Is your turn now, Mr. Harris sald. “What story will you give us. “The story of what we.call in.my pro- fession ‘An Inside Job,’ " replied Harris. PART HL have always been a hard-working man,” said William Harris, the - safe- breaker. ‘As a rule I've earned what I've got, though I haven't always got what I've earned. Many's the likely safe I've cut into to find nothing but a set of books with the balance all the wrong way. Yet there are men in my line who can’t open a to- mato can without finding {t full of green money. : “This affair that I'm going to tell you about ts one of the few really easy things thet ever came my way. It was like find- ing money. Col. Bob Tracy, president of the Fairfield Granite Company—with offi- ces in the Clyde building on Pine street near Broadway—had drawn $199,000 out of a bank and put it into the company’s safe for usé early the next-motning.” All at my pal, Danny Walsh, and I had to do was to walk in and get it. 'd seen the colonel draw the money and put it into a iittle black bag. I had trailed him to his office and had seen him put the bag with the money into the safe. Danny. from a window across the alley, had watch- ed the safe all day. I had seen everybody leave the office, and had followed the cash- ier, Jim Wright, to the Grand Central ce- pot, where he had taken a north-bound ex- press. We had been a little afraid of Wright, because he sometimes came back to the office in the evening and stayed late. With him well out of the way there was nobody to trouble us, for the night watch- man of the building dozed in the lower hall and let things take care of themselves. “We got into the building through the roof, and came down to the fourth floor, where the Granite Company’s rooms were. It was about 10 o’clock in the evening, and there wasn’t a sound in the big structure except the watchmen’s snores. We picked the lock of the outer door of the Fairfield Company’s offices, and got through into the cashicr's room all right. There stood the safe, and a good one it was. Danny, who was an expert in such matters, said that we'd have to blow it. That meant quick work and a hasty exit after the ex- Plosion, so we started to look over the ground to see how we could get away. There was a second door leading out of the cashier's office, and I opened it. In a mor- tal instant I’ found myself in a lighted room, with Col. Bob Tracy right in the middle of it, staring at me across a deak covered witk papers. How he got there is @ mystery to me, for I had seen him safely started for home. .He must have come back while I was trailing the cashier. “The colonel.starjed up at sight of me, but he wasn’t. half;so much startled as I was. If It hadn't geen for Danny's nerve the game woyjd haye been up right there, for I couldn't haye done anything. But Danny got by me, and just as the colonel opened his mouth t® yell my pal stuffed a soft felt hat almost down his throat. Tracy fell back i1.to"a chair, and he found him- self looking down the muzzle of Danny's revolver. As that spectacle seemed to be sufficiently quieting,; Danny pulled his hat out of the colgnel’s mouth and began to state the case “Give us coitibination of that safe,’ says Danny. "We now what's there and we're going tahave it.’ ““My frienti,’ réplied Col. Tracy, ‘I won’ « we “Then you'll have to hold my hat again,’ said Da:§y, ‘and be'tied up neck and heel: while we blowiithe safe.’ “The colonel looked at the hat, and then he looked at my pal. Danny was grinning, which he never did unless he was really ugly, and when Danny was ugly it was positively sinful to fool with him. Col. Tracy seemed to grasp this fact in natural history by the right end, and so he said: “On second thought, I will give you the combination if I can find it. I cannot re- member what it is, but I have It on a slip of paper somewhere in my desk.’ : “The way in which he said this convinced us both. It is no uncommon thing for a man in his position to forget the combina- tion of the safe, and to depend upon a memorandum, We let him sit down to the desk and hunt for the slip of paper. ow, the queer part of the case is just here. ‘The colonel knew the combination perfectly well, and he also knew that he'd have to give it up eventually. He was only playing for delay. As a matter of fact— of course, entirely unknown to us—he had @n appointment with palf a dozen men who were to come to his office at midnight and transact a matter of business. One of he | sot it, if he hadn't been so free about show- Ent | explosive, either. mat | them, as I afterward learned, was coming in on a late train and going out on an early one; and that accounted for the un- usual hour. The colonel knew that the men would surely come, and that they would be right on time. If he could hold us so long, we were tra “So he began to hunt through his desk very carefully, and slowly, for the scrap on which the combination was written. Every now and then his face would brighten up, and he’d seize upon a bit of paper. Then he’d say: ‘Dear me, dear me; I was sure this was It; but it isn’t. Now, where can it be?” And he'd adjust his glasses on the bridge of his'nose, and beam upon us be- nevolently before proceeding with the search. I was completely taken in. I made up my mind that the colonel was a queer old crank, who had made up his mind that his hundred thousand was as good as gone, ard was taking it mighty easy, being satisfied to save his skin. But Danny got impatient by and by, and he began to help the colonel hunt, ripping things out of the desk and throwing them on the floor. The colonel remonstrated with him in the po- litest possible style, but Danny never could stand politeness; he hadn't been brought up to it. So he told the colonel to find that memorandum in one minute or we'd tie him neck and heels, stuff a handkerchief down his throat, and then blow up the safe. The colunel asked to see the hand- kerchief, and Danny got out his old red bandanna, whereupon Tracy weakened and produced the memorandum. Then we all went out into the cashier’s room, where the safe was. “We had lost three-quarters of an hour that way, and Danny wasted ten more minutes in impressing upon the colonel’s mind the fact that he would get shot if he attempted to raise a rumpus. Then Danny walked up to the safe with the memoran- dum in his hand; but before trying it he Gave a pull on the handle of the safe door, and, by the jumping Jupiter, the thing wasn’t locked! The language that Danny threw off of his mind when he found that out would have bored a hole in an ordi- nary old-fashioned safe. The colonel read him quite a lecture about it; but Danny wasn’t paying much attention to reform just then. He had opened the safe, and Was studying the inner doors, which were the hardest and strongest that ever I saw in a safe of that size. “They opened by means of a key fitting into a slot in the center of a round kaob lke the combination knob on the outside. ‘There's no picking such a lock as that, and the colonel said that he hadn't a key, but he thought that there waa one in’ the cashier's desk. He'd rather we'd use it, he said, than break the safe. So we opened the cishler’s desk, and the colonel found the key for us. Let me tell you the trick that he played right there. As a matter of fact, he hid a key in his pocket, and, of course, we'd have gone through him and ing us where the other was. Now this key in the desk was cracked right across, af- though the break didn’t show, and’ the colonel, knowing that the lock worked rather hard, was in hopes that the key would break in it. If it did, we'd have to bore through the door, and that would take tims “Well, it happened just as he had plan- ned. The key broke and the piece stuck in the lock, so that we couldn't pull it out. I never saw a man so mad as Danny was. But nothing could stop nim then. He got out his drills and went to work Itke a steam engine. In a little less than an hour he “Empty! he croaked.” had those doors open, and he didn’t use any I noticed that the colonel ot a little nervous when he saw how well Danny was getting along; and at the last he kept looking at his watch and smoking very hard. “It was twenty minutes to twelve when the doors swung open. There was the little black bag, and I saw the colonel look at it as _a schoolboy looks at an apple when a/ bigger boy has snatched it away from him. Ianny put his big hand on the bag and pulled it out of the safe. It was locked, tut he wre ed it open. “Empty! he croaked; and he was too hard hit to swear. “Col, Tracy came up out of his chair as if Nanny had exploded his whole safe- blowing outfit er tt. He forgot entirely that I was covering him with a gun, and had promised over and over again to shoot him if he moved. All he thought about w: that bag. He grabbed it out of Danny's hands, and pretty nearly turned the thing Inside out. ‘Then he dropped {t on the floor we looked blankly from one to the other | of us. Ul, it didn't take a very smart man | to see through the hole in that milistone. “Colonel Tracy,” said I, ‘youve been robbed. This is an inside job. Your cashier has got away with this money. if I hadn't heen the biggest stiff in the United States I'd have known it long ago, for 1 shadowed Wright this evening and saw him get out of town.” “Wright be possible’ e could have got at this safi erled Tracy, dazed. ‘It can’t Nobody ‘Of course, it was plain enough to me, but it took a bit of argument to convince him. When he was finally made to see it, jonel, in a certain sense we're all in same boat. You've been robbed, and we've been defrauded by the same man. Now here’s my proposition. You want your money back. I know where your cashier has gone and you don’t. I and my pal can chase and overhaul him and make him give up. We can get at hin: by tomorrow,where- ag it may take the police a month or a year. How much is it worth to you to have us do it? “ ‘Half the money,’ exclaimed Tracy, with flashing eyes. ‘Bring that rascal back or knock him on the head if you'd rather, and I'll give you $#,000, and be glad to do it. Not a word about this job, eitner. The un- grateful rascal! Why, I made him. I pick- ed him up when ne hadn't a cent. Get after him. Cause his arrest, and recover the money, and you have my word for what I'll do.” “I'd already told Danny that the cashier had taken a train for Montreal. and he was wild to get started after him. Of course whether we returned any of the money to Tracy would depend on whether we had to have Wright arrested or could work him alone. I was in favor of working It legit- imately, for I was willing to trust to Tracy’s word. “But here was the rub; both Danny and I were nearly broke. We hadn't enough to make the chase, for as a matter of fact we needed a spectal train to make a gure thing of overhauling Wright. I thought the case over for half a minute, and then told the colonel frankly how we were fixed. He went through his pockets and raised $57. Danny and I between us had about as much, It wasn't enough. “I asked Tracy if there was any place where he could raise money so late, and he said he might get it at one of the clubs. Danny said he could borrow fifty, perhaps, of a barkeeper that he knew, if the colonel would agree to make good, win or lose. The colonel said he would. Then he suggested that there might be a little in the safe. We'd been so rattled that we hadn’t thought of that. So we all went through the safe together, but we didn’t raise any except a few dollars in change. We had about de- elded that Danny should go to his friend, the barkeep, and the colonel to his club, and that the three of us should meet at the Grand Central station, when our delib- erations were interrupted by a loud sound of voices at the outer door, which Danny and I had locked. “It’s all right,’ said the colonel. ‘I rec- ognize their voices. They're friends of mine, and it’s a blessing that they've showa up just at this hour. We can borrow the money of them.’ “Danny gianced uneasily at the safe. “Shut the cuter door,’ said the colonel. “They'll never suspect anything. Just sit down and make yourselves at home. You'ra come friends of mine, you know, and you’y: to do a little business. That'll be all righ “He ran to the door, while Danny and I sat down and tried to look as if nothing had happened. I felt comfortable enough, for it's no hardship for me to play the gent, but Danny—well, he has not what you'd call a high society countenance. He looks like a crook, Danny does, I'm sorry to say. I told him to straighten up his necktle and pull dewn his cuffs, but he didn’t have any cuffs, and his necktie wasn’t so suitable to his complexion as if it had been made of rope. “In came the crowd—a lot of jolly fellows -laughing and talking. ‘Friends of mine,’ said the colonel, in- dicating us, and we got up and shook hands all around. “Well, Col. Bob,’ said one of the new- comers, when the hand-shaking was over, ‘can_we get right down to business? “Bure,” says the colonel. “Then the first thing is the money, the | it was drawn out of the j ene moment and far away hundred thousand plunks,’ returned the other man. ‘Where are they? “Right here,’ remarked the colonel, and he went into the inside pocket of his’ coat and pulled the money out! ‘Mother of Moses, think of it! He'd had that money in his pocket all the time we'd been fussing with that safe, and rigging up plans for chasing the cashier. We'd never thought of going through him: he'd acted so cool when we ceme near him, and So nervous when we got around to the safe, that he'd fooled us completely. ‘When the colonel showed the money his friends jumped on us. It was the signal that they'd agreed upon in the outer room while Tracy w bringing them in. As for me, I never raised a finger. Danny made a otge half-hearted fight and then went un- er. “We got five years for the job, and I'm just out. Danny died of heart disease soon after we reached Sing Sing. I suppose he must have got it when the colonel fiashed that roll. I did.” And the burglar laid his hand upon his ample bosom and sighed. PART Iv. The burglar had barely finished his story when the train which bore the party stop- ped with an unusual grinding of brakes and rasping of wheels upon the rails. So suddenly, :ndeed, was the speed arrested that the three criminais—who had been riding with their faces to the front—were brought to their feet, and they remained for an instant standing there in line as if they expected the angel of evil deeds to call tne roll of them. “I thought we were all going overboard,” said Pinney, glancing out of the window at the waters of the Hudson. The place was a little to the southward of Yonkers, where the railroad runs for a considerable distance upon an embankment raised but a few feet above the level of the river. “There's been an accident of some kt said Gleason. “I can hear people shouting ahead of us. Let’s go out and see what has happened.” The suggestion was accepted, and the four men hastily left the car. At first their view was blocked by the throngs of people that were pouring-out of the train, and mingling with a much larger number a,” that came down from the bank upon the ress uid left. After a brief struggle with the they came to a spot from which they c see what had barred the way of thei train. An express bound northward had been parUlally wrecked by the breaking of a wheel under the car immediately folloy ing the tender of the engine. A coupling had parted and the car had been almost demolished by those which came after i All the tracks were strewn with wreck age, and the express car had gone into the river, where a corner of its top could be seen above the water, No person had been eerlously hurt, but the rescue of the two men who had gone overboard with the express car had bee very near to a miracle. A telegraph wire had been tapped, and an official of the road was communica: with one of his supertors in New Ye The click of the instrument was fainuy audible to Newcombe as he stood surve: ing the scene. Presently Gleason touched him on the shoulde: He turned and saw that his companion’s eyes were burning with fierce eagerness. bo you know what that man Is graphing?” demanded Gleason. you're not an operator. Well, Til tell you what that sounder ‘say There's $80, der our eye! I don’t understand you,” ‘No; Il am, and said New- combe. “It was in the express safe, Gleason, continued “and it went overboard with the ve sent for wrecking apparatus. re going to pull the car out of the v, the question is, can we & Newcombe was astounded, “iow can we get it, with a thousand peo- atching us?’ demanded the criminol- “How could we get it, anyhow, while ocked up In a safe?” e's always @ way to get money if you want it badiy enough,” returned Glea- son, sententiously. That was all that he would say on the subject, but he remained for a long time staring down into the water, while he listened to the spasmodic clicking of the telegraphic instrument. At last a train with the appropriate wreckage appliances a rived, and, after considerable labor, a gr: chain was fastened to the express car, ar river. But the safe was not to be found. It had been dis- lodged by the shock of the plunge, and had passed out through the forward end of the car like an enormous cannon ball. Un- doubtedly it lay in the mud of the river bottom, and the task of finding it would | not be easy. “They'll have to send for a diver.” said Gleason. “By the Lord Harry, 1 wonder if I could do it!” “Do what?" queried Newcombe. Gleason did not immediately reply. scemed to be engaged in some such n effort as one makes in trying to remem a name that is on the tip of the tongue at the next. So absorbed was he that when Harris toucned him on the shoulder ke jumped as if he had been ened suddenly from sleep. #'BiM,” he said, dreamily, “I want that 8 ou can’t get it,” replied the burglay “but there are a number of articles dow the track that you can get. There are tw or three baggage cars all smashed to smithereens, and the contents ain't being half looked after. They’re just beginning to cart some of them to the station just above here.” “Never mind that,” said Gleason. “There's a better game going. Listen to me. You know that I'm a diver. Well, I know an other one, and he’s as big a rascal as I am. He has an outfit right here in Yonkers, and in two hours I can have it. He won't re- fuse me anything—he can’t. Then I'm going to offer myself tothe rallroad company to dive for that safe. “But you can Harris objected. open it under water, “Probably not,” said Gleason, “but we'll | get the money out of it some way. Now then, Woodbury, I will go and see m diver. You and Pinney stay here and keep eyes and ears open. In about an hour and a half you join us at the longest pier of the three that lie near together about a mile above here. We'll be there with the boat. Before Newcombe could decide what course he ought to pursue in such ex- ceptional circumstances Gleason had him by the arm and was hurrying him away. For the next half hour he followed the criminal’s guidance biindly. His mind was alternately busy with two considera- tions. First, in his character as a stu- dent of sinners, he rejoiced in this unrival- ed opportunity for observation. It was a demonstration tn crime—an illustrated lec- ture by a trio of eminent specialists. New- combe could not afford to miss such a great educatio.al treat. Second, as an nonest man, he was bound to prevent a crime. But how would that be best done? If, at that early stage of the proceedings, he denounced the thieves, no one would believe his story. It would be regarded as ludicrou: How could these men com- mit such a gigantic robbery in the pres- ence of thousands? It would be much better to let the conspiracy progress to a point near to success before interrupting it. Therefore, Newcombe attended Gleason in his visit to the diver, and listened to the negotiations for the boat and appar- atuvs. As the thief had said, the diver cou:d refuse him nothing. It was evident that Gleason held some disgraceful se- cret of the other's. Yet the diver refused to take any part in the adventur “I'll keep out of it,” he said. "m try- ing to live on the square now, and this thing is too risky for me. Steal my boat, if you want her, but I don’t want to know anything about it.” He then proceeded to give certain neces- sary directions, and he also furnished the keys of the lockers on the boat in which the diving apparatus was kept. Gleason departed in high spirits. He and Newcombe made the best possible speed for the pier where the boat lay. She was a rude craft, yet well adapted to her work. Gleason prepared to start the fire under the boiler of a little “don- key” engine which the boat carried. Meanwhile Newcombe went up to the town to buy certain necessary articles which Gleason could not find in the* boat's jock- ers. While he was gone Harris and Pinney arrived. Gleason had begun to be anx- fous about them, and he was overjoyed to see them drive down the pier, one on each side of a genial son of Ireland, whose day they seemed to have hired for the occasion. There was something like a big box wrapped rudely in canvas on the dray. Harris and Pinney, with the driver's help, set the box down upon the Pier. ‘What's that?” asked Gleason, when the Irishman and his equipage had disap- peared. “The biggest thing on earth!” cried Har- ris. “It's a safe of the regular express pattern, undoubtedly an exact model cf the one in the river. Gleason was positively dazed by this great news. ”) lying there in the river) 19 “Where did you get it?” he exclaimed. “It was in one of the wrecked baggage cars,” replied Harris. When I saw that various things were being carted around to the station I hired that Irishman and his dray, stole an expressman’s coat and pinched that safe. Of course the rail- road men thought it was going to the freight house with the rest of the stuff. “And now, Glearon, of course you see my plan,” he continued. “We must hot up the other safe, and then deliver thi one. Before they can get it open we can skip with the $80,000. Am I understood Gleason nodded. The three men ho the safe on board the boat. Just as t had fin‘shed the k Newcombe arrived with a high official of the railroad, whom he had met cn the way to the pier where the boat 1 ‘The official had heard that @ diver’s boat kept there, and was anx- fous to get the use of It. The whole mat- ter was arranged between him and W bury before they reached the pier. The criminologi:t had most shrewdly played the part of agent for the minals. As the ratuway officlal satled down to the scene of the wreck in the boat, there was no opportunity for the crooks lo combe about their acquisition of Arrived upon the scene, the ra was set ashore. Then Gleason, the diver’s suit, went over the side and di appeared beneath the water Harris and Pinney operated the machin- ery which furnished air to (Heason, wh! Newcombe was stationed in the how of tt Loat, where he drew in or let out the r by which she was anchored, according ‘0 directions given by Harris, who judged of the diver’s movements by the action of the air pipe and safety cord. After about twenty minutes Gleason sig- naled to be drawn up. When his helmet had been removed he held whispered versations with Harris and P’ combe could not hear what they he done 89, the events of the day would have shaped themselves differently As a matter of fact, Gleason reported that he had found the safe. It was, as they had supposed, identical with the ore which they had stolen, unfortunately, it bore a letter A ini for some unknown reason upon its s “We have ty change our plan,” sald Giea- son, “and this is what wll do; Fl cet ropes around that safe and we'll hoist it up on the side of the boat away from the shore, and hang it In slings, three or four feet under the water. Then I'll that I can’t find it, and ae soon as t gets low I'll give up the Job for the n We'll tow the safe to some good place hoist it in.” The three men felt that this plan involv- ed less risk than the other, and they won- dered why they had not thought of i in the begin” Gleason went into the wa- ter again, and in the course of half an hour his design had been accomplished. | Newcombe did not know what had b | done. He thought that om spoke when he finally announced to on the bank that h fe, and would have 4 not tind to give up the nions had ay the scene, arrived at this Junety | raflroad and express officers m | tempt to urge Gleason to work. The anchor w boat slowly back towal from which she . Newcombe fel and h. It w his char sing busi acquaint claim him on foliowing @ 0 p the which he had prac apon them we no goo!l, H » appear his true character, in order that he might say a few wore at parting which would help these misguided men toward And s0, with little pre truth to Harris, Gleason 9 ed for a as the boat had sta surprise of the three men They list to his story a » his exhor- tation in a sort ¢ which seer to him to be very nr ing. “Mr. Newcomb believe that your words ground, and have save 1 companions from the per noof a crime. As a matter of fac sweombe, we have stolen t “Impossib “Yet true,” sald Gleason, an to Newcombe’s wonderin had come out of the t been set into th s cabin “And now,” on continued prove that fe” the crimi at though we continue in our wicked w take your advice and unv done. Mr. Newcombe, will you um restore this Safe to its And will you plead for us with cried Neweombe, pro’ had the boat reach embe rushed « Was py) the dray, and Newcombe took th It was agreed that the three ¢ rn, wi en might prayer for forgiveness at Was the sensation when Newcombe appeared with iray and the safe at the scene of the wreck. The divers bh st i that the safe was not on the ttom, and suspicion had besan te dawn upon the blue-coaied officials of line. 7 aneed upon Neweonbe, w smiling agreeably, satu driv seat of the dray “I return to you your treasure quite un- harmed,” he said. “1 desire no thanks, on! mercy.” “The man is crazy'” exclaimed one of the j Officers. “This is not the right sate. Why, jit hasn't been wet. And, besides, where ja the letter A? “Nevertheless, this Is the safe," said New- combe, with so much calmness that he im- pressed all his hearers. “Open it and be convinced. But first tell what was in the other safe.” Nothing but the package of m wae Said one of the men. “All the papers and books were in another car.” As he spoke he worked the co: of the lock, and, being an expert in that matter, he soon su eded in opening th safe. Throwing back the doors, he piunge in his hand ard drew forth a sealed He broke the seal and drew fe ty one-thousand-dollar J U's all right,” he said bination ‘This must be the safe. But how you got tt, and how it escaped going overboard, is more than 1 know. You will have to expluin that to the police. “Willingly,”” said Newcombe, and he sub- mitted to arrest At that moment Harris, Gleason and Pinney stood with staring eyes before an empty sate that stood open in the cabin of the diver's boat “We're dished!" said Gleason. “But how? How? “Woodbury has done 1 ney. “Reformer 1 don't responded Pin- think. Why, I knew when my eye first lighted on his face that he was a confide man.” “Well, I suppose there's nothing but skip.” growled Harris. to do The others mut assent, and un- mooring the boat they satled acr the river, and Vanished inio the wilds of New Jersey. abe endured a captivity of about ys, at the end of which tine th mystery of the whole affair was explain- ed and New was vindicated. Tut he had lost a pound of Mesh a day and was really far from well The mystery of the transfers of the money from one safe to the ovher was | black and deep for many days, but at last it was clucidated 5 en re bed by a dishonest exy in pot in New to ke plunder with him t the other safe, which was being «ht» an express agent in Albany, a friend whom the thief could trust, and with whom h had often divided the proceeds of rebber- on The scheme w 1 undoubtedly hav sded but for the strange charce th | the three crooks and the crim j ogist acted as the agents of providen returning the $3,000 to its rightful cus- todians. (The end.)