The Missing Tin Box: or, The Stolen Railroad Bonds. Stratemeyer Edward

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      "Yes, sir. When I left Carson here alone I saw to it that both safes and the main desks were closed."

      "Why did you do that?" put in Mr. Allen, knowing well what the answer would be.

      "I saw no necessity for trusting Carson, who was totally unknown to us."

      "That was right, Hardwick." Mr. Allen turned to his partner. "I believe, Sumner, you took in Carson without recommendations."

      "I admit I did, Allen, but his face – "

      "Faces are very deceitful, very. It was poor business policy, Sumner. It would never have happened while I was around."

      "Well, I am the loser, not you," replied Mr. Sumner, rather sharply. He did not like the way Mr. Allen criticised his action.

      "Yes, but still, it might have been – "

      "But it was not," interrupted Mr. Sumner, dryly. "And as we are to separate on the first of the year, Allen, the least said on that score the better."

      "Well, just as you say," returned Mr. Allen, stiffly. "I hope you get your bonds back, that's all."

      "So do I," added Hardwick. "I don't want the least shadow hanging over my name."

      Mr. Sumner began to walk up and down the office uneasily. He was in a terrible state of mind. The loss of the bonds might mean utter ruin.

      He hesitated and looked at Hal. The youth noticed it, and springing forward, caught him by the arm.

      "Mr. Sumner, tell me you do not believe me guilty," he cried, with a curious lump rising in his throat.

      "Hal, I believe you innocent," returned the elderly broker.

      In after years the man looked back at those words. What had led him to utter them? Let the reader wait, and perhaps he will be able to reason the matter out.

      Mr. Allen sneered at the words, and Hardwick's lip curled.

      The youth noticed neither of them. The tears stood in his eyes, as he replied:

      "Thank you for saying that, Mr. Sumner," he returned, in a low voice. "I may be nothing but a poor-house boy, but I am honest, and will help you get back your bonds, and prove my innocence to the world."

      Again Mr. Allen's sneer was heard, and Hardwick's lip curled, even more than before. Neither Mr. Sumner nor Hal paid any attention to either of them. The broker stepped to the telephone.

      "Who are you going to summon?" asked Mr. Allen.

      "The chief of the police department."

      "That's right."

      The proper connection was obtained, and a long conversation ensued over the wires. At length Mr. Sumner closed the instrument.

      "A couple of detectives will be here in ten minutes," he said. "The chief says they are now with him and have nothing on hand to do."

      Hal listened to this statement with interest. He had often heard of detectives, but had never seen such a personage.

      Mr. Sumner continued to walk up and down. Hal watched him, the youth's heart beating rapidly.

      The clock hands moved slowly, but at last twelve minutes had passed.

      Then two young men entered. They were very ordinary looking individuals, and Hal was somewhat disappointed in their appearance.

      "We were sent here by the chief," explained one as he entered. "My name is Harry Parker. This is Ralph Hamington."

      "I am glad to see you," replied Mr. Sumner.

      "You have been robbed?" questioned Harry Parker, coming at once to the point.

      "Yes. A tin box, containing seventy-nine thousand dollars' worth of railroad bonds, has been stolen from that safe."

      Both detectives elevated their eyebrows at this statement.

      "Was the safe broken open?" continued Parker.

      "No."

      "Door left open?"

      "I think not."

      "When did you see the box last?"

      "Yesterday afternoon."

      "What time?"

      "A little before two."

      "You locked it up at that time?"

      "I am under that impression."

      "I see. When did you discover your loss?"

      "Not over half an hour ago."

      "Did any one beside yourself have the combination of the safe?"

      "Not to my knowledge."

      "No one in the office?"

      "I know nothing of it," replied Allen.

      "Who are you?"

      "Caleb Allen, Mr. Sumner's partner."

      "Oh!"

      "Neither do I," added Hardwick. "I am the book-keeper," he explained.

      "Who is this boy?"

      "He belongs in the office," replied Mr. Sumner.

      "I know nothing about the safe," said Hal, speaking up for himself. He began to believe detectives were very much like other men.

      "Please give me a list of the people who might have got at the safe during your absence," continued Parker, while his companion prepared to write down the names.

      "These gentlemen," began the elderly broker.

      "Yes."

      "The janitor of the building."

      "What is his name?"

      "Daniel McCabe."

      Hal started and wondered if the janitor could be any relation to Jack McCabe, his acquaintance of the previous day.

      "Go on," continued the detective.

      "A strange man was in yesterday."

      "Ah! tell us of him."

      Mr. Sumner told what he knew. Parker turned to Hal.

      "Would you know this fellow again, if you saw him?" he asked.

      "I believe I would."

      "Please describe him as closely as you can."

      The youth started and gave a pretty accurate description of his visitor. Both detectives listened attentively.

      "Perhaps it was Larkett," suggested Hamington, in an undertone.

      "Did the fellow have a cast in his СКАЧАТЬ