The Young Railroaders - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Jack was soon to have his opportunity of "seeing," though a more disagreeable experience was first to come.
V
AN ELECTRICAL DETECTIVE
"Orr, Mr. Black wants you."
Jack, who was pa.s.sing through the business department of the Hammerton office, toward the stair which led to the operating room, promptly turned aside and entered the manager's private room.
"Good morning, Jack. Sit down.
"My boy," began the manager, "can you keep a secret?"
"Why yes, sir," responded Jack, wondering.
"Very well. But I must explain first. I suppose you did not know it--we kept it quiet--but the real reason Hansen, the janitor, was discharged a month ago was that he was found taking money from the safe here, which he had in some way learned to open. After he left I changed the safe combination, and thought the trouble was at an end.
"Last Tuesday morning the cash was again a little short. At the time I simply thought an error had been made in counting the night before. This morning a second ten-dollar bill is missing, and the cash-box shows unmistakable signs of having been tampered with.
"Now Johnson, the counter clerk, to whom I had confided the new combination (for it is customary, you know, that two shall be able to open a safe, as a precaution against the combination being forgotten)--Johnson is entirely above suspicion. Still, to make doubly sure, I am going to alter the combination once more, and share it with someone outside of the business department. And as you have impressed me very favorably, I have chosen you.
"That is, of course," concluded the manager, "if you have no objection."
"Certainly not. I am sure I appreciate the confidence, sir," said Jack quickly.
"Very well, then. The combination is 'Right twenty, twice; back nine; right ten.' Can you remember that? For you must not write it down, you know."
Jack repeated the number several times; and again thanking the manager for the compliment, continued up-stairs to the telegraph-room.
Two mornings later Jack was again called into Mr. Black's office. For a moment, while Jack wondered, the manager eyed him strangely, then asked, "What was that combination, Jack?"
"Right ninety--no, right thirty--Why, I believe I have forgotten it, sir," declared Jack in confusion.
"Perhaps you have forgotten this too, then?" As he spoke the manager took from his desk a small notebook. "I found it on the floor in front of the safe this morning."
"It is mine, sir. I must have dropped it last night. I worked extra until after midnight, sir," explained Jack, "and on the way out I chased a mouse in here from the stairway, and when it ran under the safe I dropped to my knees to find it. The book must have fallen from my pocket.
"But what is wrong, sir?"
"The cash-box is not in the safe this morning."
Jack started back, the color fading from his cheeks as the significance of it all came to him.
"And now you pretend to have the combination entirely wrong," went on the manager.
Jack found his voice. "Mr. Black, you are mistaken! You are mistaken! I never could do such a thing! Never!"
"I would prefer proof," Mr. Black said coldly.
Jack caught at the idea. "Would you let me try to prove it, sir? Will you give me a week in which to try and clear myself?"
"Well, I did not mean it that way. But, all right--a week. And if things do not look different by that time, and you still claim ignorance, you will have to go. That is all there is to it."
"Thank you, sir."
At the door Jack turned back. "Mr. Black, you are positive you returned the box to the safe?"
"Positive. It is the last thing I do before going home."
During spare moments on his wire that morning Jack debated the mystery from every side. Finally he had boiled it down to two conflicting facts:
"First: That the box was placed in the safe the night before, and in the morning was gone; and that, besides the manager, he was the only one who could have opened the safe and taken it. And,
"Second: That, of course, he knew his own innocence."
The only alternative, then, was that Mr. Black had been mistaken in thinking he had returned the box to the safe.
Grasping at this possibility, Jack argued on. How could the manager have been mistaken? Overlooked the box, say because of its being covered by something?
"Why it may be there yet!" exclaimed Jack hopefully. And a few minutes later, relieved from his wire for lunch, he hurriedly descended again to the manager's office.
"Mr. Black, may I look around here a bit?" he requested.
"Look around? What for?"
"To see if I cannot find something to help solve this mystery," responded Jack, not wis.h.i.+ng directly to suggest that the manager had overlooked the box.
"So you keep to it that you know nothing, eh? Well, go ahead," said the manager shortly, turning back to his desk.
Jack's hopes were quickly shattered. Neither on the desk, nor a table beside the safe, was there anything which could have concealed the missing box.
Stooping, he glanced under the table. Something white, a newspaper, leaning against the wall, caught his eye. With a flutter of hope he reached beneath and threw it aside. There was nothing behind it.
Disappointedly he caught the newspaper up and tossed it into the waste-basket. Suddenly, on a thought, he recovered the paper, and opened it. On discovering it was the "Bulletin," a paper he knew Mr. Black seldom read, the idea took definite shape. And, yes, it was of yesterday's date!
"Mr. Black," exclaimed Jack, "this is not your paper, is it?"
Somewhat impatiently the manager glanced up. "The 'Bulletin'? No."
"Were you reading it yesterday, sir?"
"Well, I don't see what you are driving at--but, no. It was probably left here by Smith, one of the express clerks next door. He was in for a while yesterday on some telegraph money-order business. Yes, he did have it in his hand, now I remember. But why?"
At the mention of Smith's name Jack started, and there immediately came to him a remembrance of having a few days previously seen the express clerk on a street corner in earnest conversation with Hansen, the discharged janitor.