CHAPTER XXVTHE MILLION DOLLARS
HadLarry exploded a bombshell under the other man’s car, the effect on him would not have been any more startling. And yet, aside from the number of the car, the young reporter had no way of being sure that the man in it was the absconder. Indeed, when he looked at the shrunken frame of the driver, and noted as well as he could behind the goggles the unshaven, haggard face, it was not a bit like Norton’s. Yet Larry was sure he was right.
Indeed the man’s action on hearing the fateful words was proof enough. He seemed to shrink down in his seat. His hands dropped from the steering-wheel. He gazed blankly at Larry through the big goggles.
“The—the million dollars,” he faltered.
“The million dollars, Mr. Norton,” said Larry calmly. “I’m from theLeader, and I’ve been following you several days.”
“The million dollars,” whispered Norton huskily. “The million dollars—yes—yes——”
With a hand that trembled he reached for thespark and gasoline levers, and closed them. The car which had been throbbing and trembling, for it was running free with the clutch out, after the stop became silent. Larry had also shut off his power.
“Well?” asked Larry significantly.
“I—er—I—” began the man, his voice shaking.
“Wait!” cried Larry sternly. “Don’t say you haven’t got it. It’s in the valise you carry. I know the whole story! I’ve been on this case from the beginning. I followed Witherby to Chicago, and found that he was innocent. I know you are guilty. You have the million. I want it—for the bank, and I’m going to get it!”
Larry’s voice rang out clearly.
“Mr. Norton, you may be a desperate man, but I’m desperate, too. I’m going to get it, too. I’ll meet force with force!”
There could be but one meaning to that. Norton glanced apprehensively at Larry. The young reporter had one hand in his coat pocket. For an instant the absconder had a wild thought of fight or flight. And then his nerve failed him, and he wilted.
He had made a hard journey, without proper food or sleep, and he was all but exhausted. Larry, though having had a hard time, was still fresh and vigorous. He faced the man relentlessly. Norton quailed before the clear eyes of the young reporter.
“I—” he began again. Larry took a step toward him.
“There is the million!” the absconder suddenly exclaimed, and, tossing aside a lap-robe, he disclosed a valise strapped to the seat beside him. “Take it!” he cried. “I’m glad you found me. Now maybe I’ll get some sleep!” and leaning his head on the steering-wheel, he sobbed bitterly.
It was some minutes before Larry knew what to do, for he was much affected. Then he said gently:
“Mr. Norton, you had better come back with me. If you flee it will only make it worse for you, and you will be caught in the end. Will you come?”
“Yes,” was the muffled answer. “This is the end. I’m all in!”
Larry reached for the valise, and opened it.
“The money’s all there, except a few thousands that I spent,” said Norton. “I can pay those back by selling my house. Oh, what a life I’ve led these last few weeks! What a life!”
It needed but a glance to show Larry that the million was almost intact. Only one of the original packages of thousand-dollar bills had been opened, and that was not much depleted.
“We’ll go back in my car,” suggested Larry gently. “I think it is in better condition than yours, and we can send for yours later.”
Indeed, Norton had driven his car relentlessly and carelessly, and it was much damaged.
Larry stowed the valise carefully in his auto, and then having placed Norton’s car to one side of the road, the journey back to the nearest town was begun. The two did not talk much on the trip. Norton sat with bowed head, and occasionally tears fell from his eyes. Larry was genuinely sorry for him, though he knew that punishment must follow, even though the money was recovered.
“I’m afraid—it seems a harsh thing to do—but I’m afraid I shall have to give you into custody,” said Larry gently, as they reached the outskirts of the New York town.
“Yes,” was the quiet answer. “I sha’n’t resist. I—I think perhaps to-night I may get some sleep, even though in a police cell. You—you don’t know what it is to lie awake—night after night—listening for some one to come and—and arrest you,” he faltered.
Poor, weak Norton was taken to the town jail, and, out of his own pocket, Larry arranged for better care of the prisoner than would ordinarily have been given. For Norton did not retain one cent for himself. He insisted on emptying his pockets into the valise containing most of the million.
“It all belongs to the bank,” he said simply. “I’ll make up the rest.”
“I’m sorry that I have to write unpleasant things about you,” said Larry, as he thought ofthe necessity of getting a story to theLeader. “But it is my duty.”
“I know,” answered the absconder simply. “I’ll tell you all that you don’t know, which isn’t much, I guess,” and he smiled sadly. “I’ll tell you how I got the money.”
Which he did. It was very simple. For a long time he had noticed that large sums were often put in the bank’s valise, to be taken by messengers to various financial institutions in New York. This valise, after being filled and locked, would be set down near the cashier’s desk, until the messengers called for it, or until the Consolidated men were ready to take it away.
It was from this that Norton got the idea that he could take this bag unobserved, and substitute for it another just like it, but containing bricks instead of bills. He resolved to take a large sum instead of a comparatively small one, and bided his time.
Though he had lived a quiet life up to the time of his temptation, he had in the past few months lost much in speculation, and he needed a large sum to meet his debts. So he decided to take the million.
The first thing needed was a valise exactly like the one used by the bank. Norton got off one day, put on a false beard, and bought the valise of Miss Mason.
The fact that he and Witherby looked alike from the back had deceived the young lady.
Once he had the duplicate valise, Norton filled it with bricks from some left by a mason who made repairs at his house. No one saw him take them, as he wrapped them up after dark.
On the day before the million was to be taken from the Consolidated to the other bank, Norton came to work in the morning carrying the duplicate valise As the clerks often came to the bank, thus equipped to go off on a week-end trip, nothing was thought of Norton’s act.
He put his valise—filled with bricks and newspapers as it was—in a small cupboard under his desk, which was a portion of the long, high one in the rear of the grilled cage.
Previously Norton had taken two of the old ledgers from the vault, and had cut off their leather backs. He also had a bottle of liquid glue in readiness.
The million dollars was placed in the mesh-lined bag, and set down on the floor near the chief cashier’s desk. It was now time for Norton to act. Watching his chance, he quickly “switched,” or transferred, the bags. The one containing the million he placed in his cupboard, and his own, with the bricks in, he placed beside the cashier’s desk. Then he closed the cupboard door, and went on with his work. No one had noticed his act. This seems incredible, but almost exactly the same thing was done in a big bank robbery in New York City not many years ago, and the newspapers of November, 1904, tell all about it.
Norton explained to Larry that the exchange was made in about five seconds, and at the time most of the other clerks, or cashiers, in the cage had their backs toward him. What followed is well known.
The messengers departed with the false bag, and the robbery was discovered. But no one knew who had taken the money, nor where it was. No one dreamed that it was in the cupboard, under the desk at which Norton was so innocently working.
Watching his chance, the absconder slipped into the vault with the bag containing the million. Unobserved he pulled out the two ledgers, smeared some liquid glue on their backs, and stuck the backs on the narrow end of the valise. The valise, with the money, he slipped into the space occupied by the books, the ledger backs being outward. It fitted perfectly, and no one looking at the row of old ledgers in the vault would have suspected that two of them consisted of backs only. They were just then, however, worth half a million each. The bulky pages of the ledgers, and the side covers, Norton hid under a pile of dusty, old books.
He now had the million safely hidden away, and it was an easy matter for him, each day, to slip into the vault, and take out a bundle or two of bills. For he had access to the vaults, often having to consult the books there. He always took care to go in alone. In this way, in abouta week, he had removed the million, leaving the valise where Larry found it.
And so he got the money, and no one suspected him, for he had a good reputation, and he remained at his work in the bank, though how much nerve it took only he knew.
The rest of the story, how Larry followed the wrong man, though the one to whom suspicion pointed, has been told.
“And now I’m ready to take my medicine,” finished Norton. “I thought, after deciding it was time for me to escape, that I could get away. But you caught me. Go, send in your story, Mr. Dexter.”
Which Larry did, by long distance ’phone. It was too late for the regular edition of theLeader, but Mr. Emberg ordered an extra, and thus Larry secured one of the biggest scoops of his life. For the story was a “beat,” and Peter Manton, when the extra came out, said:
“I told you so. I knew Larry would pull it off!”
“Extra! Extra!” yelled the newsboys, with copies of theLeaderunder their arms, as they raced about the City Hall, and along Park Row. “Extra! Full account of the million-dollar robbery! Robber caught! Million found! Reporter solves de big bank mystery!”
There is little more to tell. After telephoning in his story Larry deposited the money in the town bank, and started for New York. He badeNorton good-bye—and a sad farewell it was, but the clerk looked better than he had when Larry stopped him so suddenly on the road.
“I couldn’t have kept my secret much longer,” he confessed. “All the while I was working in the bank I never knew at what moment suspicion would fall on me. I’m glad it’s over.”
And Larry was, too, for he had worked hard. The million was soon taken back to the Consolidated Bank, and Norton was given a trial. He received a comparatively light sentence, in consideration of pleading guilty, and of returning the million, for he deeded his house to the bank. I am glad to be able to say that, years afterward, he came from prison a changed man, and until his death led an upright life.
“Well, Larry, I suppose you’ll give up reporting now,” said his mother, several days after the big case had ended. “You certainly don’t need to work so hard, after getting that big reward.”
“Oh, I can’t give up the newspaper business, mother,” he replied. “The ten thousand dollars is a nice sum, but I didn’t work up the case for that. I did it for the story and the ‘beat.’”
For Larry had refused to accept the full reward, but he took half, and donated the rest to a hospital recently founded by the doctor who had cured Lucy of her spinal trouble.
“Quit the newspaper game? I guess not!” cried Mr. Emberg, when Larry told him of Mrs. Dexter’swish. “We need you on theLeader, Larry. I’ll save the next big assignment for you.”
And what that assignment was, and how Larry “covered” it, may be learned by reading the next book of this series, to be called “Larry Dexter and the Stolen Boy; or, A Chase on the Great Lakes.”
“Mr. Dexter, I congratulate you,” said Director Wilson to Larry one day. “I admit I didn’t take much stock in you at first, but you have won me over. It was a great piece of work. And to think you thought my protégé, Witherby, was the thief!”
“Well, even he admitted that I had a good case against him,” said Larry. “By the way, how is he coming on?”
“Splendidly! He is going to be a great actor some day. I am glad I helped him, though I don’t say he did just right in leaving the bank so suddenly.”
Larry thought the same thing, and as he recalled the various steps he had taken in solving the bank mystery he had no regrets, for he knew that he had acted for the best, and had followed only natural clews. And now, for a time, we will take leave of the young reporter.
THE END