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~ have a key Vd.
see what amount of mischief the young |
small and keen, like magpies, and these were
Joe Buiktrd’s, a fellow who sold rum in the
village, and was generally considered his own
best customer. Bullard moved along so as
to meet Deacon Thurber when he arrived at
the grocery, in which, though it was early,
were some habitual Joungers.
“Fine mornin’, deacon,” said Joe. |
“A glorious anniversary of a glorious
day,” replied the deacon. .
“The boys made a heap 0’ noise, deacon,
sence midnight.”
“Boys will boys,” said the deacon,
looking around with the air of a benevolent
philosopher announcing @ novel discovery.
“What was you lookin’ at just now, dlea-
on—over yonder?” said Bullard, jerking his
_ thumb toward the bank.
“T was wondering,” replied the deacon,
“what Si Pettingale was doing. Seemed to
me-I saw him climbing out the bank win-
ow.
“Why, that’s sing’ler, now ain't it?” said
Bullard. “1 thought I seen him, too.””
Just then Si,straggling into the grocery
for something, remarked to the loungers :
“What do you suppose them boys hev
done?” Might’s well tell you, cos’ you could
n’t guess in a million ages.”
He winked his lonely eye, and then added,
with a double length of drawl:
“They bin — and — blowed up — the
bank!’
“ Psho !”’ said one of the loungers. ©“ This
ain’t April Fool’s Day, Si in’t there the
bank, standin’ up all right?”
“Thet’s go,” rejoined Si; “but jest you
go an’ look inside.”
“Tsaw you coming out the window,” in-
terposed the deacon, ‘and I—”
“No, deacon,” said Si, “you seen me look-
in’ in, not comin’ out.’
«Seems to me,” answered the deacon, em- |
phatically, resenting the interruption, “as if
you was coming out!”
“T thought so, too,” remarked Joe Bul-
lard. “Tey say seein’s believin’, but ef
you weren’t droppin’ out thet
won’t never believe myself again.
“You'll hev lots 0’ sympathizers,”
swered Si; “but it don’t matter,
what you thought you saw. Fact remains,
them boys hev raised Cain with the insides
o’ thet bank. Why, Joe, the innerds 0’ thet
bank looks ez if it hed the stomachache try-
in’ to swaller your note for thirty days.”
The loafers laughed, and the deacon, sinil-
ing grimly, said:
_ Well, as one of the directors, I happen to
So perhaps I'd ter go and
seamps have committed.’
So saying, he walked off, a twinkle of boy-
ish remembrance softening his gray eyes, and
the loungers followed.
He ascended the granite steps, unlocked
the door and advanced, glancing at the broken
window on the right, and then at the riven
counter, which curved to the corner where
the safe stood. As the deacon walked round
this curve, his look of «wonder ripened into a
stare of astonishment.
“Mercy on us! Why—my—good—breth-
ren,” he gasped, ‘the safe’s burst open!
Whee bless my stars, everything seems gone !
vhy—”*
The deacon paused, breathless, or as if
struggling with an idea which he couldn't
quite express.
he others pushed forward, except Si Pet-
tingale, who, leaning carelessly over the
wrecked counter, said, musingly :
“Wal, ef this old safe hain’t been blowed
an’ robbed, I’m a bald eagle.”
Then the deacon regained his mental equi-
poise, and said, authoritativel,
Yt
“Obadiah Smith, go and fetch the consta-
While Obadiah was speeding on this er- |
rand; the deacon said, severely :
“Mr. Pettingale, how did you happen to
be climbing out of the bank this morning?”
efore Si could reply, Joe Bullard, seeing
his chance to repay Si’s last hit with interest,
remarked, in a sort of confidential tone:
“What's the use, deacon, of axin’ him any
conundrum o’ thet kind; he ain’t ’bleeged
fo eriminate himself nohow, ’ecordin’ to
jaw.”
~ Si slowly turned
drawled out: :
“Is thet what your lawyer told you, Joe,
las’ time you wuz up?”
he bystanders laughed a little at this, but
it was an uneasy laughter that seemed to
-cover a rising suspicion.
Then a mysterious silence settled down
like a cloud upon the scene till in came the
constable.
_ After searching twenty minutes, that func-
tionary looked gravely at the increasing
‘crowd before the counter.
“Feller-cit’zens,” he said, “itll be a
mighty bad Fourth for some of us, Pm
-afraid, for it’s a clean sweep. The thieves
haven't left a dollar’s worth of stuff—not a
bond nor a copper, by thunder!”
‘ale faces were before him—faces of men
whose little savings had thus vanished ; but
whitest of all seemed the face of old Mr.
Adams, who, a few days before, on acco
toward Bullard and
h
of failing health, had sold his grain business
winder, I
GOLDEN DAYS.
JANUARY 7,. 1888.
and also most of his property for cash down,
and had banked the money, together with a
quantity of stocks and bonds.
Mr. Adams said nothing to his neighbors,
but tottering from the bank, betook himself
iome.
Ilow heavily the years seemed to hang
upon the old man as he came into his yard!
Suddenly-he was greeted with a deafening
whoop by the twenty young savages who
had breakfasted in his barn, and Erny called
out:
“Gran’ther, make us a speech.”
‘The poor old man began:
“My boys, this is a bad day
and youd bett
Which the savages thought must be meant
for a joke, so they laughed and hurrahed for
Gran‘ther Adams.
“Boys, boys!’ he shouted, “Vm not jok-
ing. You'd’ better disperse to your hones.
The bank was robbed last night, and_ some
of your fathers are mighty nigh ruined, as—
for our town,
r all go home.
boys’ untimely merriment jarred him so that
tears forced their way as he hastened into
the house.
Unable yet to realize the calamity, but
as Lam.’
: Bravely had he kept up till then, but the
silence gathered closer round Erny, their
leader.
It was the glorious Fourth, and the glori-
Fous sun was laughing broadly in the sky,
and they had_ plenty ot powder left to con-
| tinue their mimic battles or play Indian till
| midnight, but somehow the flavor of their
| fun seemed to evaporate.
| » “Erny, let’s go back to town and see the
|
ank,” suggested one, in serious tones, ex-
pressing the general wish.
ight,’? sai “You
Erny, gravely.
stay here awhile with
ight, acl
| go along; I guess LIL
| gran’ther.””
ed the house.
|
| CHAPTER Il.
| It was a pretty little cottage, covered with
| dainty, fragrant honeysuckles and great,
glowing trumpet-flowers, about which the
bees buzzed and the humming-birds hovered | fi
} all day long.
| Erny was too young to care, for the beauty
of nature, but the splendor of this day, be-
| ing in so strong and strange a contrast with
t
the calamity just announced by his grand- |
| fathey, impressed him deeply.
Ie stopped among the trutnpet-vines at the
sitting-room window and looked quietly in,
There was his mother trying to comfort his
grandfather, and saying, in her sweet, hope-
ful way:
“Well, maybe the thieves will be caught,
grandfather, and even if they are not, you
can start. in business again, ean’t you?”
“No, Jane,” said old Mr. Adams, “when
L sold out to Mr. Fitts it was understood that
I shouldn’t start the same business again
within twenty miles of here—and all my
bonds were there, too,” he sobbed, his
| thoughts reverting to the safe.
“Not all your bonds, father,” said gentle
rs. Adams, with a tone of tender reproof ;
‘your bonds of family love and neighborly
affection are still around you. The Lord
giveth, you know, and taketh away our
treasures in Iis wisdom.””
“Yes, yes,” muttered the old man, rather
testily, “but I don’t see why He gave my
treasures to the thieves.’””
«There are many things we don’t under-
stand at first, but we sce them all in Ilis
good time. Perhaps this trial is sent us to
make a man of Erny.
grown boy, and so full of mischief, that I’ve
| been worrled about him lately So now if
we are tobe poor, grandfather, why, Erny
| will have to ‘quit fooling,’ as Si Pettingale
| says, and go to work in good earnest.”
.** That’s so,” replied the old man, somewhat
cheered; “I never thought of that. my
is old enough to earn his own living, and he
ought. Work’s the best thing in the world
to keep a boy from coming to grief.”
The young Indian chief, ambushed amid
the trumpet-vines round the window, felt a
thrill of indignant amazement that his mo-
ther and grandfather should speak of him so
disparagingly.
Thrusting bis head through the vines into
he room, he roared out:
“Tm glad you’ve lost your old bonds any-
way, and I won't earn my living. Pll go
Vest aud join the savages.”
“Erny,” exclaimed his mother, with a hor-
rified expression, for she had known nothing
of his Indian “make-up” that morning, and
his looks scared her almost as much as his
words shocked her.
“frny,” said his. grandfather, severely,
“you've been listening. I didn’t think
you'd do a mean thing like that.”
{~ “J didn’t mean to listen,” replied Erny,
| “and I didn’t think you and motlter would
say mean things about me, behind my back.”
“We were not saying mean things, Erny
| dear,” answered his mother, softly; ‘‘ we
were only thinking it was time a. great,
such an over-
a
®.
| strong boy like you should be doing some-
thing better than playing tricks the year
| right key, for Metacomet, the
|
| ferret, he was a fat little man with sleepy
| , : . :
eyes, who. kept rolling and smoking cigar-
ettes.
|
| tew inquiries, he sought the grocery-store,
feeling uncomfortable, the boys in awkward |
The others darted otf, and Erny approach- |
| round and playing Indian on_ his country’s
birthday. And now that misfortune has
come to us, I shall be ashamed of my boy if
he doesn’t aet like a man.”
His mother had evidently touched the
chief of the
morning, retired to his boudoir (the barn),
and speedily transformed himself into Erny
Adams once more.
To many in Sandys besides Erny’s grand-
father that Fourth was a dark day ; for, un-
Hess the thieves were captured, how could
jsun set, hope seemed setting, too, for not the
the bank pay its depositors? And as the
shadow of a clew was found. Therefore,
next day a detective was summoned from
New Yor
This personage at first rather disappointed
the people, because, instead of looking won-
drously watchful and lean and sly, like a
In fact, he didn’t fulfill at all the
popular idea of what a detective should re-
semble.
After examining the safe and making a
and asked the proprietor to talk about the
robbery with all who entered, while he sat
listening.
Before long the grocery became crowded,
and old Mr. Adams, pushing through, said to
the detective, in almost tearful tones:
“Well, sir, do you think there’s any hope
any chance of catching them ?”’
“Chance?” said the detective. ‘ Yes,
there’s always chanee. Hope? Well, there’s
always that, too. Not so much in this case,
Tadmit, for do you know” (here he spoke
louder, and evidently at the crowd), ‘I’ve
seen a good dea, and do you know, it’s my
private opinion that your old-fashioned town
has got something to brag of, at 1 ”
Ile paused to light a ci
crowd pressed closer
“Yes, gentlemen, to my mind, this rob-
bery is about the smartest and the cutest
that’s ever been done in this State.”
“Why so?”
“Weill, I’m always ready to give my rea-
sons when T’ye got any. . Reasons, you
know, don’t cost a man a red—and mine are,
first, it wan’t done ina hurry, but easy and
isurely-like.””
east.
igarette, and the
tice that many eyes fixed on him at'the word
leisurely, so he moved uneasily.
“Secondly,” resumed the detective, seem-
ing to relish his own voice immensely, ‘just
mark the cuteness of it. hose’ thieves
learned that the boys here intended to start
their Fourth o’ July explosions about mid-
night, and they chose that time for theirs,
too, so people who waked up would lay it
to the boys, and just growl a little and go
to snoozing again. It zas cute, wasn’t it,
ow 2”?
‘Adjusting another cigarette, he chuckled
to himself.
“©Cute? Roll me up and putf me out if
it wasn’t!”
A faint buzz, something like applause,
rose from the crowd,
“Now,” continued the speaker, “I was
called down heve to give an opinion, and ve
done so on the bare facts ve gathered—
perhaps I’ve a theory besides, and perhaps
Lhaven’t—but the question now is, whether
you people wish to employ me further, and
on what terms. All you have to do is
make me an offer, and you won't find me
close. Close? Why, on the contrary, I’m
open as the day.””
“What's your usual price for catehin’
thieves, sir?” asked one simple-minded fel-
low, and the crowd laughed, but hushed as
Mr. Adams quavered out:
“What’s your theory, sir? What is it?
VI give you half of what you recover that
belongs to me.”
The detective laughed softly, and said
kindly: ’
“Yowre wild, sir, youre wild! I don’t
want unfair wages. 4 expenses, or ten
dollars a day for three months, and two thou-
sand dollars if Irun the rogues down, will
satisfy me, and T guess the directors won't
find any trouble in agreeing to that.”
“Aye,” said Deacon Thurber, “Vl answer
for them, brother. You go right ahead. Vil
pay your expenses myself. Now let us know
what your theory is.”
“Just this, my dear sir. I think, as the
robbery shows such familiar knowledge of
this town and this bank, and especially of
its large deposits lately—I think one of the
gang must have been living here for some
time. Perhaps he may be a citizen; per-
haps’—here the detective’s sleepy eyes ap-
peared to dilate and take in, preparatory to
taking up, the whole assembly, as he said,
with impressive slowness—‘ perhaps he may
be in this very room. .
Si Pettingale stared angrily, for why did
every eye seem glued ‘on him, and why did
every eye seem following as he walked out
of the store muttering:
“'Thet New York idjut could talk an owl
plum silly.” A
‘A briet whispering now ensued between
Deacon Thurber and the detective, of which
the crowd could only catch the words
s
ie
Si Pettingale, standing near, began to no-) tiny
“Search-warrant”” and “No time like the
present.
Then the detective moved toward the door,
way being made for him with profound re-
spect. Many, indeed, showed a disposition
to attend him, but he gave them the slip,
and, getting the constable with two assist-
ants, he proceeded to Si Pettingale’s house
and served his search-warrant on that one-
eyed veteran.
Si, at first furious, soon began to regard it
asahuge joke, and chaffed the officers un-
mercifully. But the detective kept bis tem-
per, ransacked the house, and found no-
thing. Then, eying the yard closely, he sud-
denly remarked:
“Constable, we must sound that well.””
“Why, blesher soul!’ replied the consta-
ble, ‘“ that well’s been dry this twenty
year.
“So
much more reason to examine it,”
said the detective. ‘Get me a ladder or a
good long rope.”
na few minutes a stout coil was brought
him, and having tied one end toa tree and
let the rest run down the dark old well, he
lit a little pocket lantern (called a bull's-
eye) and climbed slowly down the rope.
CHAPTER III.
While the constables watched with consid-
erable curiosity the detective’s descent, Si
Pettingale, with his hands in_his pockets,
egan to whistle ‘Yankee Doodle,” but
broke off in the middle to remark :
“This Noo Dodginees "peers to
b’lieve in the old sayin’ *bout ‘Truth roostin’
at the bottom of a well,’ don’t he?”
Presently the detective reappeared, with »
the shadow of a smile in his dull eyes and a
small bundle of papers between his teeth.
Tossing these to the chief constable, he
turned to Si, saying, quietly :
“Hold out your hands, my man.”"
“What for?” said Si, flushing.
“For these little diamond bracelets,’ re-
plied the other, jingling gaily a pair of hand-
eu
itfs.
“What do you mean?” asked Si.
“To arrest you, my one-eyed beauty, for
robbing the bank.”” .
“Sho! is thet all? Why, I kin prove an
ali My wife knows 1 wuz in bed all the
me.
“That won’t wash,’ said the detective.
“Wife, you know, can’t bear witness for
her husband. So come now, my little joker,
your game’s up, and it’s my turn n 5
you just slip on these bracelets like a little
ady and save me time and trouble.”
Saying this in what he considered his most
taking way, he reached for Si’s right hand,
but before he could execute his purpose, Si’s
left knocked him down.
It was about the first act of promptness in
Si’s life, and he felt, after it, more surprised
than the sprawling detective.
Butin a trice the indignant veteran was
pinioned by the constables and hurried off to
jail, amid a popular excitement of feverous
intensity.
“Can you believe he did it?” said Erny’s
mother, when old Mr. Adams brought the
news.
“Tdon't know—it looks pretty bad,” an-
awered the old man, despondingly. ‘Tle
was seen climbing out of the bank by Dea-
con Thurber and others, and I’m told he act-
ed very nervous when that New York detec-
tive was talking in the store, and then some
of the bonds were found in his well.
“Whose bonds were they?”
“They weren’t mine, and they didn’t
amount to much,” replied he, rather sourly.
“T don’t know, Jane; it’s a puzzle, but ever
since Pettingale returned from the war he’s
been such a shiftless and do-little sort of
man,”
“Tm afraid that’s true,” said Erny’s mo-
ther; “but it’s hard to believe that a man
who’s bled for his country in a foreign land
would come back to steal from his country-
men and neighbors.”
“Don’t you think, gran’ther, the thieves.
in their flight might have dropped those
things in his well? Or they might have
been put there a-purpose,” said Erny, ‘by
old Deacon Thurber; he hates Si like poison
for being so jolly.”
“JIush, Erny,’” said his mother. “You
mustn’t say such things, or speak so disre-
spectfully of Deacon ‘Thurber. There isn’t
a better man in town.””
“J think Si Pettingale’s ten times better,
if he is in jail, and if I could, I'd help him
out,” said the boy, stoutly.
“Erny ! remonstrated his mother. “How
can you talk so?”
“Why, Jane,” said his grandfather, “I
think the boy’s right to stand up for_his
friends, especially when they’re down. Pet-
tingale was always kind to Erny, and to
believe he stole my bonds is very difficult
indeed.” :
It was really pitiful tosee how the old
man’s loss kept revolving round his mind
like the cruel cage round a poor gray squir-
rel, From morning to night he could talk of
nothing else, and he exasperated his neigh-
pors by dilating on his ill-Inck, as if he were
the only sufferer.