Читать книгу The Rider of Waroona - G. Firth Scott - Страница 6

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At five minutes to ten the following morning Eustace awakened to find the sunlight streaming into his room, the bank in absolute silence, and his head so light and dizzy he could scarcely stand when he sprang out of bed.

He glanced at the alarm clock on the mantelpiece. The alarm was set for six, the hour at which Eustace almost invariably awakened. He had no recollection of hearing it ring that morning, yet only a touch was required to show that it had gone off at the proper time.

His wife still lay in deepest slumber.

"Jess! Jess!" he cried, as he shook her. "Wake up, Jess! It's nearly ten o'clock. Wake up! Wake up!"

She stirred heavily, uneasily, drowsily.

"Wake up! Wake up!" he repeated. "Look what time it is."

She sat up with a gasp, pressing her hands to her head.

"Oh, what is it?" she exclaimed. "My head! How it throbs!"

"It's nearly ten o'clock," Eustace cried. "I don't hear anyone moving. The bank must be open in five minutes."

He hurried across the landing to his assistant's room and unceremoniously opened the door.

His assistant was in bed in a heavy sleep.

"Harding! Fred! Wake up, man! Do you know what time it is?" he said, as he grabbed the sleeper's arm and shook him so vigorously that he pulled him half out of bed.

Sleepily Harding's eyelids lifted to reveal glazed and lack-lustre eyes.

"What's up?" he mumbled. "What's the matter now?"

"Look at the time," Eustace cried excitedly.

Harding pushed his hand under his pillow, raised himself on his arm and flung the pillow over.

"Where's my watch?" he exclaimed. "Where has it gone?"

"Don't you hear me say it is nearly ten o'clock? What on earth do you mean by sleeping to this hour when the bank ought to be open?"

Harding blinked at his pyjama-clad manager.

"You don't seem to have been up so very long," he grumbled. "But where's my jolly watch gone? I'll swear I put it under my pillow last night. Are you having a joke? Have you hidden it?"

"I have not touched your watch. I tell you it's ten o'clock and the bank——"

"Then someone has stolen it," Harding exclaimed as he sat up.

The pupils of Eustace's eyes contracted to pinpoints. With an inarticulate cry he dashed from the room and rushed to the stairs. He heard his wife call from the servant's room but paid no heed to the words.

Down the stairs he plunged, springing across the passage to the door leading from the residential portion of the building to the banking chamber.

The door was locked.

"Thank God!" he exclaimed. "I was afraid it had been broken into."

He ran upstairs again, meeting his wife at the top.

"I can't wake that girl, Charlie. What shall I do?" she said.

"Shy cold water over her," he answered abruptly as he went on to his room, where he seized his clothes and fumbled nervously for his keys.

They were in the pocket where he always kept them.

The discovery reassured him. Whatever else had happened, the bank was safe, for without the keys no one would be able to get at the cash. It was curious how everyone in the house had overslept themselves, but that was a detail to be unravelled subsequently. For the moment he must race into his clothes and be downstairs in time to have the bank's doors open to the public by ten.

He was nearly dressed when Mrs. Eustace returned to the room.

"Charlie, whatever has happened? Bessie can hardly stand. She's exactly as if she had been drinking."

"Oh, don't bother me about Bessie," he said petulantly. "It's ten o'clock, and the bank is not open."

He pushed past her and sped down the stairs. Despite his efforts to recover his confidence, his hand still trembled as he unlocked the door leading to the bank and entered the office.

One quick glance round set his mind at ease. The place was in the same state of neatness and order as when he and Harding locked up the night before.

He crossed to the street door, unlocked and unbolted it and pulled it open. As he did so, Harding came in through the private entrance.

"I say, Eustace, hang it, what have you done with that watch?" he asked. "It's not in my room. Where have you put it?"

"I have not seen your watch. Make haste and get the safes open and the books out. Look at the time," Eustace replied sharply.

The keys of the big safe, or strong-room, as they termed it, were kept in a smaller one, to which there were two keys, Eustace and Harding each holding one. The last vestige of fear passed from Eustace's mind as the keys of the strong-room were found lying in their usual place. He sighed with relief as Harding picked them up, unlocked the heavy door and, swinging the handles, threw the strong-room open.

The tray on which the cash had been placed after balancing the previous evening was in a small upper compartment resting on the books. It was the usual practice for Harding to remove it and hand it over to Eustace, who checked the contents while the books and documents necessary for the day's work were being arranged.

But Eustace was too impatient to wait for the ordinary methods. As Harding pushed back the safe doors and bent down to remove the keys, he reached over him and caught hold of the tray.

Instead of being heavy, as it should have been with all the gold, silver and copper coins, it came away in his hands light—and empty!

His face went livid. He reeled back against the counter, letting the tray fall to the floor.

"Gone!" he cried. "The money's gone!"

Harding started up and stood staring, first at Eustace, then at the tray lying on the floor.

"Gone?" he echoed. "Gone? How can it have gone?"

"It has—the tray is empty," Eustace gasped in reply.

Harding looked from the tray to the open safe. His glance rested on the drawer where the bank-notes were kept. He took hold of the handle and pulled the drawer out.

It was empty.

In an inner recess, guarded by second-locked doors, the gold reserve was kept. The night before the bags of gold had filled it to the doors.

Harding tried the handles. They held. The locks had not been forced.

"Have you the keys of the reserve?" he asked.

With shaking hands Eustace produced them and stood watching, as the doors were unlocked and swung open.

The recess was as empty as the cash tray.

Dumbfounded, Harding turned to Eustace who, with his face ashen, stared blankly at the empty recess. Then a wild light leapt in his eyes and he seized the handle of a drawer in the counter where a loaded revolver was kept lest at any moment an attempt was made to rob the bank during office hours.

Harding sprang to his side and gripped his arm.

"Not that," he cried hoarsely. "Hang it, man, pull yourself together. Think of your wife!"

"It's ruin—ruin for me. Better finish it," Eustace muttered.

Holding him back with one hand, Harding pulled the drawer open with the other to take the revolver away. But the drawer was also empty.

"That has gone as well," he cried, letting go his hold of Eustace as he stooped to peer into the drawer.

Eustace sank into a chair and buried his face in his hands.

"Oh, this is terrible—terrible," he moaned. "Terrible, terrible."

The door leading to the house was flung open and Mrs. Eustace faced them.

"Charlie!" she exclaimed. "My rings and jewellery have vanished. The cases are all empty. I am certain—why, what is the matter?" she broke off to ask as she caught sight of her husband.

She glanced from him to Harding.

"What has happened?" she said wonderingly, as she advanced further into the office.

Opposite the open doors of the strong-room she saw the empty cash tray lying on the floor, the note drawer pulled out, the vacant space of the reserve recess.

"Charlie!"

Her voice went to a shriek as the truth flashed upon her.

She rushed past Harding and flung herself on her knees beside her husband, her arms around him, her face upturned to his.

"Oh, Charlie, Charlie! Whatever are we to do?" she cried.

"Shall I go over to the police-station? We had better report it at once," Harding said quietly.

Eustace raised his wife from her kneeling position.

"You must not come in here now, Jess," he said. "Go and learn, as nearly as you can, what has been taken from the house. Harding and I must send word to the head office."

He led her from the room and closed the door after her.

"We shall have to use the code, I suppose," Harding said, as he returned. "If you will read out the words, I will write them."

Eustace sank into his chair again and sat staring blankly in front of him.

"Come, come, old chap," Harding exclaimed, as he laid his hand on his manager's shoulder. "Don't give way. There's a mystery in all this. We shall want all our wits to clear it up as it is; don't make it worse."

Eustace raised his head.

"But who can have done it, Harding? Who can have done it? Every place locked up and yet the money has gone! No one knew all that gold was here."

"You and I knew it."

"My God! You don't mean——" Eustace cried as he sprang out of his chair. "You don't——"

"Steady, old man, steady. Keep your head. There's nothing to be gained by getting excited. You and I knew it was here and someone at the head office knew, as well as the fellows at Wyalla. Some word may have leaked out while it was on the road. There's no saying off-hand; what we've got to do is to keep cool and go slow if we're to clear ourselves. I'm as much concerned in this matter as you are."

Eustace shook his head.

"No, Harding. I'm manager, and all the responsibility is on my shoulders. Whatever comes to light, I'm ruined. The bank will fire me out directly they hear of it—and this was my first branch too."

"I would not look at it like that," Harding replied. "No game is lost till it's won. I'll send Brennan over as I pass the station. He may be able to throw some light on it. Come. Let us draft the report for the head office."

But Eustace was too unnerved to render any assistance, and it was Harding who, single-handed, drafted and coded a brief message reporting what had been discovered. Not until this message was handed to him did Eustace move.

"That's my death warrant," he said gloomily as he signed it.

Harding took the message and left the office. The township boasted only one street, the bank being at one end, the post office at the other. Midway between the two was the police-station, where the one constable responsible for the maintenance of law and order within the district resided.

"Get over to the bank, will you, Brennan?" Harding said as he entered the station. "You'll have your hands full this time. There's been a robbery during the night, and all the cash cleared out."

"What's that, Mr. Harding? The bank robbed? You don't mean it!"

"Go and ask Eustace; he'll give you all the details. It's floored him. Hurry over, there's a good chap. I'm on my way to the post office to wire to the head office; I can't stay now."

Ten minutes later the news was known from one end of the township to the other, and was travelling in every direction through the bush to the outlying stations and selections.

The farther it travelled the more astounding it became, and yet the form in which Brennan telegraphed it to his Inspector showed it to be sufficiently startling and mysterious.

When the reports had been wired away, Eustace recalled an incident he had forgotten in the excitement of the initial discovery.

During the evening, soon after sunset, a stranger called at the bank. He came to the private entrance where he was seen by Eustace, who described him as a well-built man of medium height, with sandy hair and beard and, by appearance, an ordinary bushman. He said he had come in from a distant station with a cheque he wanted to cash, but as the bank was closed for the day, Eustace told him he would have to come again in the morning. He had gone, mounting his horse and riding away in the direction of the hotel where stockmen usually congregated.

Brennan went to the hotel in search of him, but no one knew anything about him there, nor had anyone else seen him either in or out of the township.

"But he must have been seen," Eustace exclaimed impatiently, when Brennan returned to the bank with the news. "He must have been seen. He could not have vanished."

"Did anyone else see him besides you when he called?" Brennan asked.

"No, I was passing the front door at the moment he came. No one else saw him, so far as I know. But he must have been seen in the township. He must have gone to the hotel."

They were standing in the bank office, Brennan on one side of the counter, Harding and Eustace on the other.

"You didn't see him?" Brennan asked, looking at Harding.

"No, I didn't see him," Harding answered.

"But you heard me speak to someone—I came into the dining-room and told you it was a man who wanted a cheque cashed," Eustace exclaimed.

"That's right," Harding said quietly, "I was going to say so when you interrupted me."

There was a hum of voices outside and half a dozen men came into the office—Allnut, the largest storekeeper in the town; Soden, the hotelkeeper; Gale, the local auctioneer; Johnson, the postmaster, and two men who were strangers.

"Here, Soden," Eustace cried, as soon as he caught sight of the hotelkeeper. "Do you mean to say that the man I told Brennan about never came to your house last night?"

Soden, a slow-witted, heavy-built man, shook his head.

"Not a sign of him, Mr. Eustace," he answered. "But these two men came in just now. They've got something to say," he added, turning to Brennan.

One of the two men stepped forward.

"We didn't think much of it in a general way," he said, "leastways not until we heard at the pub about the robbery. You see, me and my mate camped last night about five miles out on the road. As near as we can say, it was somewhere about midnight when Bill—my mate," he added as he waved his hand towards his companion, "looked out of the tent. 'Hullo, Jim,' he says, 'what's this? Here, come and look, quick.' You see, from where our camp was we could get a view half a mile down the road. Well, when I looked out I saw, coming along the road at racing speed, a pair-horse buggy with two men in it. The chap who was driving had the horses at full gallop as they passed the camp, but it wasn't him so much that I noticed as the horses. You see, they were both white—white as milk. The moon was up and they showed real pretty."

"White?" Brennan exclaimed.

"White as milk," the man replied. "That's what made Bill call out. We didn't know there was a white horse in the whole of Waroona, let alone two of them."

"Was that on the main road?" Brennan asked.

"On the main road—just about five miles out."

"I know every horse in the district, and there's not a white one among them," Gale said.

"These were white—white as milk," the man repeated. "It was what made us look."

"If the horses were galloping the tracks would still show in the road," Gale said to Brennan. "Shall I ride out and have a look?"

"If you've got a buggy, me and my mate will come too and show them to you," Jim exclaimed resentfully.

"That would be better," Brennan said.

"Come along then," Gale exclaimed, and left the bank with the two men.

As soon as they were gone Brennan turned to Johnson.

"Two white horses can't go far in this district without being noticed. Will you wire round to the different telegraph offices and ask if anything of the kind has been seen or heard of?"

"They cannot have gone more than a hundred miles since midnight, can they?" Johnson asked.

"A hundred? No, not fifty," Allnut exclaimed.

"Well, we'll say a hundred. I'll wire to every telegraph office within a hundred miles. I'll send or bring you word within half an hour."

"Supposing there is any truth in the yarn," Soden remarked slowly, "how is it going to help? I brought the men along, not because I believed their yarn, but because it seemed to me they might know more about the robbery than they would care to have known."

"There's no harm in sending off those telegrams, anyway. I'll get away and put them through," Johnson said as he went to the door.

He stood for a moment looking out along the road.

"I fancy that's Mrs. Burke coming," he called back over his shoulder to Eustace.

Soden, Allnut, and Brennan, at the mention of the name, moved towards the door, and Harding came round the counter to join them.

"You had better see her, Harding," Eustace said under his breath. "Tell her everything will be all right so far as she is concerned. We cannot say more until we hear from head office."

The other three men were already out on the footpath in front of the bank entrance. Eustace slipped into the little ante-room that served as the manager's private office, as the sound of a vehicle pulling up outside the bank reached him.