Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 248, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 November 1917 — The Protector of Finance [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Protector of Finance

Tales of Resilius Marvel, Guardian of Bank Treasure

By WELDON J. COBB

WITHOUT BENEFIT OF WAYBILL

A CRT, a eras*, a generat commotion, and echo and stir brought Resilius Marvel to his feet as though set on springs. Such things do not transpire in a well regulated bank save for some potent reason, and the quick mind of the head of the United Bankers’ Protective association' seemed to analyze the situation in a flash. I believe before he had crossed the threshold of the private office of the president of our institution, a peculiarly heavy crash had told him that one of the immense plate glass windows back of the currency pen had suffered; that the cry was that of a man In one of the cages; that the commotion was the mingled shuffling of the feet of the house officers drawn to an Irresistible focus by some extraordinary occurrence. I was in the wake of Marvel almost instantly, impelled by curiosity and wonder. The president of the bank had been going over the list of average balances, weeding out some clients whose business affairs showing symptoms of dry rot, was planning to have them rot somewhere else,- and preparing a package to hand to some unwary brother banker. So far as official ethics would permit, he peered through the open doorway at the gathering crowd about the currency pen. Marvel had parted the ranks in his swift, effective way. I was close at Ids heels. A picturesque spectacle gFTAOtpH lift Behind the railing a clerk was dancing up and down in a frenzy of uncontrollable excitement, one hand indicating a man crowded close to the outer counter slab of marble, the other waving towards a wrecked window, while he kept shouting wildly: I stared, undlsguisedly puzzled, at the man upon whom the gathering throng were massing. He was thin to the point of attenuation, his eyes twitched from nervousness or weakness, and his face was very pale. However, his colorless —Ups framed * smile —a smile apologetic, gentle, submissive, slightly cynical and triumphant. It was the smile of a man down and out morally, physically and financially, but that also of a person making a desperate cast of fate, and awaiting what might hinge upon the hazard of the die. He challenged the crowd pressing about him.not unperturbed, but with no alarm visible in his features. And then he made a slight forward movement as Marvel reached him. It was a gesture recog-

nizing power and protection. _ “A fair ending,” he said, looking my friend aquarely in the eyes. Marvel placed a hand on the man’s arm, but scarcely with force. The poor wretch, beside the husky officers grouping about him, appeared like some scarecrow bird in the net of the fowlers. Even then he was taken with a violent fit of coughing that racked his frame so that he was forced to hold swaying to the brass railing. He pressed a handkerchief to his lips. As he lowered it I noticed that it was streaked with blood. “Quick! What was it?” spoke Marvel authoritatively to the clerk behind the railing. > “He threw red pepper!” spluttered the teller. “I dodged. See —where it hit the slab. A little went in my eyes. Before I could get my revolver he pushed an arm over to the window guard.” “What did he get?” “Special package —180,000.” “Where is it?" “The window—the street!” rambled on the clerk. “He must have weighted it, for it went through that window like a cannon ball, and —” In a flash Marvel, both feet on the slab, swung over the wire netting, sprang to the ledge of the window and was scanning the street. All that he saw was a gathering, gaping crowd and two policemen pointing to a mounted officer down the roadway. “Automobile, I suppose,” commented my friend, and was back at the side of the culprit by the route he had left him. “Get us out of this crowd,” he directed me, and I made a path for him through the mob to the nearest office. The prisoner needed no urging to follow the pressure of Marvel’s urging hand. Our cashier had come up, and the door closed on the four of us. ‘•What did you expect to make out of this foolish break, Dan?” inquired my friend, not unkindly. “Not ten years,’’ responded the fellow, with a ghostly shadow of a smile. “There will be no trial, for the doctor has given me just ten days. I’m doped with strychnine, or 1 couldn’t hold up now. Get me where I can lie down, or you’ll have to carry me.” The man looked all he indicated — a poor wretch in the last stages of consumption. He had partially collapsed, and lay rather than sat in the big arm chair. All the time, however, there was a certain contented smile on his face. “You know me, Mr. Marvel,” he observed weakly—“not yet obituarized, although the records had it so. l r didn’t pull this off for myself/’ “Rather not,” replied Marvel. “Then —why?" Derby Dan, once famous as a bank

sneak, shook his bony head slowly, “I’m through," he said. “There were two men outside in an automobile. .Ask them. It was the watching and waiting that played me out Tt was a good alm, eh?" and he looked towards the window, a glint of professional pride in his eye. “Call the floor officer," directed Marvel to the cashlen “Search him.” he ordered, as a man in uniform appeared. “It’s wasted time,” declared Derby Dan, and so it proved. Not so much as a scrap of paper was disclosed. Dan blinked and chuckled at Marvel “Derelict, no cargo abroad, and I’ll soon sink,” he said with a slight laugh. The officer had taken from his pocket the one article his clothes contained —a watch. “I’ll keep that to count the few hours left me, if you don’t mind," said Dan, but Marvel was giving the timepiece a close inspection. He opened the cases. I saw him gaze searchingly at the inside of the back case, then at the outstretched hand of Derby Dan, and then into Derby Dan’s eyes. The mocking' smile drifted from the face of the prisoner. “Have I hit it, Dan?" challenged Marvel, with one movement ripping the back case from the watch' and handing the denuded timepiece to its owner. “Only you,” admitted the prisoner in a subdued tone. “Not that you have one chance in a thousand of locating her.” “Think things over, Dan," said my friend, turning to leave the room. “You shall have good nursing. To make it still better, suppose you help me out where you can?” But Derby Dan shrugged his hatchetlike shoulders and was dumb. Marvel spoke an order to the officer respecting the disposition of the prisoner. Then he went to the teller’s cage, made some memoranda of the information received there, and whlked briskly towards the broad stairway leading to the street. “I suppose you read the oracle?” he interrogated, and then its I looked dubious he produced the one-half of the watch case. Pasted over its inner surface was the photograph "of a woman. It was the portrait of such a woman as one would expect a man of Derby Dan’s character to select — coarse featured, loud eyed, tawdry as “tcTneck and waist adornment. Still, a woman; and to Derby Dan the picture seemed so dear, that I doubted not for her sake he had risked a shot, to enrich her he had consented to spend the last poor fragment of his life behind steel bars. -

“He is clear game,” announced Resilius Marvel, "and will never -squeal. His hopes, however, must hinge on a division of the spoiL . Of course it’s the woman her pals will make for sooner or later.” "So you must find her.” "So I shall find her,” said Marvel swiftly. “The raid must have been timed to a second —and an inch. Derby Dan loitered up to that cage, and knows enough about bank routine to look over the notations on the packages. Then the red pepper that missed, a grab, the weighted loot, and a close calculation that did not miss, and I dare say a landing directly in the automobile, where his pals were ready for the word ‘Go.’ ” My friend had drawn the right picture of an actual happening we found when we reached the street The crossing policeman told of the crash of glass, a flying object, the whir of the auto, and . a flash to the corner ahead with a mounted officer in pursuit, who lost the trail amid the confusion of too many vehicles, with less than one-half a mile accomplished. And then as two of the bank policemen appeared leading Derby Dan between them, he gave a slight start of recognition, “Know him?” inquired Marvel. “Saw him before, that’s all,” was the response. “Where?” “Right at this letter box About twenty minutes ago. I saw him lean on it and watch the big clock up in the Board of Trade. Then he looked up and down the street. Then he drew an envelope from his pocket. He kept his eyes fixed on it for a few minutes, as if thinking deeply. Then he lifted the cover of the slot, shot it into the letter box and walked briskly into the bank.” Marvel whipped about He was scanning the printed schedule for collection of mail on the front of the box He glanced at his watch. His face expressed satisfaction. I knew it betokened that no collection had been made since Derby Dan had deposited a letter in the box Marvel took a pencil and a card from his pocket and scribbled a name and a telephone number. “Phone from the bank,” he directed me. “I will have to remain here. Tell Leslie to join me at once.” It was not fifteen minutes before a post office inspector arrived. He opened the box after a few words of conversation with Marvel It lacked twenty minutes of ten o’clock, and very few letters were mailed in the business section as early as that in the morning. Some twelve or fourteen were all the dropping shelf dis-

played. Most of them bore return addresses on the corner, and clearly to be seen were business documenta One, a plain envelope, bore crude handwriting and the direction: “Nancy Wands, “42 Markham St., “City." _ “This is what I am after," declared Marvel. “To make sure—yes.” At a nod from the inspector he ripped open Ahe envelope. ■< His rapid eye took in the contents of a single sheet covered with penciled words. He glanced at me and 1 joined him, .We crossed the street and repaired to- thA office of the United Bankers' iPsoteetive association. . My lriend. was busy telephoning police., headquarters for a few minutes. Then as he went into another room he placed the intercepted missive before DM)- Ai-i ~ “Dear Nance,” it ran. “If I was ever type- blue it's now. Luck has been hard with mei not fit to work. You’ve stuck by,,me. you and the kid, halfmeal or nomeaL There was only one way to wogfc.put what I’m at, and your 'share wjjl ,h 9 over ten thousand, for I shall rpake ja big grab. Don’t try to -look me up or dome near me, for that might queer everything. Get your share, plant it, don’t waste any coin on the widow weeds, and settle down somewhere out of range of the old The boys will bring you the share soon as they £eeL thej’re -safe. I’ve done this for you and the kid. Kiss her for me. Good-by. Dan.” Marvel beckoned to me from the doorway of the next room. He had two wardrobes open, and thrown across a table a part of their contents. I noted two_ suits of coarse common clothes _pnd caps to match. "We may have some rough work, at, least an experience among rough people,” he advised me, and proceeded to exchange his attire for one extremely I Jtnow that the garments I donned were ill fitting and smelled musty. The suggestion of rough people was fully carried out as we reached the vicinity of Markham street. No. 42 turned out to be a ramshackly two-story house. It backed on extensive freight yards and its rear fence was in ruins—used up for suel — its shed kitchen ready to fall over. We passed it on the other side of the apd made , a complete circle of it several times before Marvel deter-

mined on a of procedure. He halted in'thesheffer freight car. “I am going to visit thia Nance of our friend, Derby Dan,” he said. “When I go around to that side door, slip' across the yard and. get into that old shed. The* men We are after may be there now, may have been there and gone, may 'arrive at any moment. Here.” “Here” was a weapon—compact, deadly looking and ready for use. I accepted it with some temerity.—lts possession certified to a promotion as friend and counsel of Resilius Marvel, yet it gave me an uncanny shiver. ‘Eighty thousand is no bagatelle, remember,” observed Marvel. “Pump it dry, if the crisis warrants it.” ' J I watched Marvel get around to the front of the house, walk to its side entrance and knock on the door. I caught the outlines but no clear sight of- the face of a woman who answered his summons. There was a parley and my friend was admitted past the doorway. He later told me of his reception. At a glance the Nance of the letter and the photograph was revealed. Her reception of Marvel was chary and suspicious. He had removed the letter from the envelope, and as he seated himself on a chair in the. poqr room he'handed this to the yroni-. an without any immediate, word of explanation. „ „ ... ... Marvel watched her. eyes her throat throb, the hand, bolding the brief scrawl grov/shaky with excitement. Then the woman stood looking; at the floor and evidently trying to digest the contents of the r missive. She' raised- her eyes next, bpring Marvel through and through. ‘ ‘ 7 • , b • “Is that ail?” she challenged.. ‘Until the .boys come,” replied' my friend’succinctly. “I’m to say nothing —only* to look on.” ■ ' * ' "What for?” “To see that the pie is cut in three equal pieces. It’s a big one.” Nance sat down in a chair and let * I /? V

the little one toddle about the floor. Now ehe' was trying to think things out harder than ever. She spelled Per way laboriously a second time through the scrawl. Then she pressed It to her lips, .threw her apron over her face and sobbed as If her heart would break. Anon she lifted a tear-stained but stony face, and fell to studying Marvel. My friend had so placed himself that he had as complete a view from the window of the room of the- street and the yard as was possible His senses were on the alert, to ward off suspicion on the part of the woman, to be afforded the privilege of remaining where he was until the men he expected should arrive. Marvel experienced no uneasiness as to Derby Dan sending his wife a warning, for he had given the police explicit instruction respecting their prisoner. The little child had roved about the rdom. She was quite friendly with Marvel. She hung about his knee and he paid her some attention. She played with the buttons of his coat and climbed up on the rounds of the chair he sat in. My friend experienced some unrest and considerable chagrin as he saw the little one todding across the room to her mother, crowing triumphantly. In one hand ( the child had Marvel’s handkerchief, in the other the envelope that had contained the letter he had just -delivered to its mother. The mother had a keen eye. Marvel dared not manifest any particular Interest in the recovering of the envelope. He simply smiled, tracing the incipient pickpocket in this progeny of crime as the mother snatched the envelope from the hand of her child. Nance regarded the envelope with a .shrewd eye. Illiterate though she might be, she was shrewd enough to reason out the situation. Her eyes were lifted to Marvel. She held the envelope extended, a direct challenge. “I am lawyer enough to always know what I am going into,” said my friend quickly. “Oh, you are a lawyer?” slowly and speculatively spoke the woman. “I didn’t say so,” observer Marvel. “My good woman, do not disturb yourself with arriving at any conclusions until our friends arrive.” The woman was on her guard, but did not venture to commit herself

by asking any leading questions. Apparently she accepted the situation as it .presented. The instructions of Derby Dan influenced her to act as a lay figure in the case. She arose 1 finally and busied herself washing out a tattered red neck scarf. Then she went out into the yard and hung it across a bit of clothes line. Marvel told me afterwards that he was certain this was a signal for prospective visitors. At least it probably was a notification that some one was in the house —a stranger. Still, the woman acted natural, although expectant and restive during another hour. Then something happened. I had meanwhile kept at my post in the shed, peering froip its darkest corner through the many gaps in the broad, warped boards of which the rattletrap was constructed. I was nervous about the weapon Marvel had given me. I did not wish to keep It in my hand, I had less desire to. stow it in my clothing. So I placed it on a cob- - webbed shelf, and tried to be patient, and hoped to be useful somewhere along the line. I crouched back, feeling the crisis had arrived, a*, the door by the shed facing the alley moved sharply on its one creaking hinge. Then a voice—low, imperative: “Hold on —don’t go in.” “Why not?” “Look at that red scarf.”, I could not view the speakers, but the sunlight silhouetted twjo figures in sßkdow, their attitude strained and full of caution. “That’s right, but it’s not the stayaway call. Go slow, that’s all.” “We’ll take the roof route, to play safe. The window’s open. Me first—follow or wait, suit yourself.” “11l follow^—go ahead.” ' The crazy roof of the tottering shed creaked ominously. The shallow boards bent until I could see a pair of nimble feet scudding for safety to a window sill on the second story. The flight was made with apparent success. Then the rubbery roof again .<■ L. • , 'I ■

rebounded. Number two tried to follow his leader. There was a sharp snap. A board crashed in two, and with the parted timbers the man came hurtling downward, struck the ground with a groa% and lay there inert. I acted on impulse. There was not a doubt in my mind that the two men were the persons for whom Marvel was waiting. Through the open roof 1 could see the first man clinging to the sill of window, wavering ar if in doubt as to what course he should pursue. I hastened his decision. Reaching out for the weapon Marvel had given me, I "pumped it dry" agaifist the ground in a corner of the shed. The fallen man stirred, but he did not open bis eyes. The -man overhead must have seen me. With an exclamation of manifest dismay he let go of the window support He made a smooth, splendid slide the length of the roof and landed with a dead clump on the ground with both feet The next instant he swung into view at the open doorway of the shed, A glance revealed the condition of his comrade, the same glance took me in, empty weapon extended. He backed away with a scowl, flitted across the yard and cleared about all that was left of the fence, the top stringer, on the fly. I heard a door in the house slam. It was Marvel, coming out. It was Marvel, his eye fixed on the flying fugitive, to whom I shouted, rather incoherently: '‘The two men—l’ve got one here, unconscious.” Then I saw, first the fugitive disappear around the corner of a long line of freight cars, then Marvel in pursuit, vanishing in turn. I took it upon myself to stand not two feet away from my captive. I leaned over and prodded his clothing, dreaming of sure glory should I find the SBO,OOO package aboard of him. It was not, and the man roused up under my rather clumsy handling. He rolled over and finally sat up, rubbing his confused head with a wry grimace of pain. “Sit still,” I ordered full valiantly, the empty .weapon extended, and it served as a quieting menace.

As I glanced towards the house I saw the woman Nance come out into the yard, leading the little child by the hand. She wavered irresolutely for a moment or two and looked all about the place. Abruptly she snatched up the child and ran towards the street, leaving the house open and unguarded. Had I been unhampered I would have detained her, for she wa* in a measure one of the central figures in the case in hand. However, I reasoned that my duty was with the man who had fallen into my power so accommodatingly. My prisoner had an evil eye, and in a clear test of physical strength he was far my superior. His fall had clearly crippled his normal activity, and the leveled weapon did the rest. It was nearly half an hour before Marvel reappeared. One hand was in a side coat pocket. In front of him, two paces ahead, was the man who had slid the roof. As soon as my captive could get onto his feet and steady himself there was a group of four. Marvel made his prisoner pilot the way. A street corner was reached, a police officer summoned and we were soon at Central station. Marvel showed no self-glorification, but was very particular as to the disposition of the prisoners. After they had been searched and were removed to separate cells below stairs, almost immediately the turnkey came to the door of the stairway and beckoned to my friend, who joined him after & word to me to await his return. At the end of an hour Marvel returned. The cloud of thought was not yet dispelled from his faoe. He had a.card in his hand, and he dame over and sat down beside me with the air of a person a good deal tired and somewhat disturbed.

“It results in this,” he said, and reversed the card so I could view what he had penciled upon it: “E. N.—16791." I looked over the initials and number vaguely. “What does it mean?” I asked. “You tell me," replied Marvel, and then his chin sank into his hand in his old thoughtful way, and I did not disturb him, for I knew he was wrestttfig with some intricate problem. “The two fellows we have caged,” he volunteered finally, kings in their crooked profession. The one I chased down had carried the booty.” "When he reached that woman’s house?” “Yes. We found the notation strip of the stolen package in his pocket. He led me a stern chase —over tracks, under cars, through them, over their tops, and finally threw up his hands when he knew I would shoot When I ran him down he had planted the package, for it was not upon him.” “Where r “Somewhere while momentarily out of my sight among that interminable network of tracks. When they put him below I had him locked next to the inspection cell.” “What is that?” “An adjoining compartment whence a prisoner can be closely observed with no knowledge of the fact The first thing my man did was to laugh—it was cunning triumph, or nothing. Then I noticed his Ups move constantly as though he was memorizing something. He searched his pockets, as if for a pencil stub, found none, and then, taking the pin in,his tie, scratched something on one of the bricks of .the whitewashed wait I at once had him .removed to another cell. I visited hjs first place of abode. He had scratched on the brick -what you see there —‘E. N.—16791.' “A few minutes later I had him

the old cell and inspected cell No. 3 ±fter some trouble I found what I was looking for. Again ‘E N.—16791, scratched on the wall. Something to be remembered, don’t you see?" I saw partly, and Marvel did not just then enlighten me any further. According to the way he had figured It out, the money package had been planted between the time his man had slid the kitchen shed roof and his final capture. As the chase had lasted a full half hour and bad covered nearly a mile of territory, I glimpsed a difficult task before my friend. We went back to Markham street to find the house locked up and deserted. Marvel walked through the rear yard and was going over his own tracks. He proceeded leisurely, and I had ample time to reason or test the play of my imagination. lam not inventive, and no suggestions came to my fnind. It must have been an hour later when we came to a little telegraph shanty in the center of the great switch yards. The man in charge sat at his table, his feet crossed upon it. Marvel entered unceremoniously. "I want to ask you a few questions, my man,” he announced, “if you have the time, but just then there came a call on the ticker. "Fifty-seven out,” spoke the operator rapidly. “I’ve got some details to take. Will you sit down and wait for me ten minutes?” Marvel bowed assentingfy. We took chairs. Marvel sat thinking deeply. I noted that his eyes were fixed on the open window, his senses mechanically taking in the busy drone of the ticker, for he was expert in that direction, although very little interested him at present outside of the unsolved problem of the missing bank money. Suddenly my friend started so suddenly that I stared strangely at him. His eyes * sought the ticking instrument. Hie hand made an involuntary movement as if to halt its progress at some specific point He arose to bis feet eagerly, I fancied, and stood nearer Jo the operator's table. The man in charge was receiving the message and checking off on a typewritten list The “N. M.” of the code, announcing the end of the message, had scarcely sounded before Marvel was touching the man on the shoulder. "Look at your list,” he directed to the wandering operator. “Checking oft a train, weren’t you?” “Empty out freights over the southern branch, yes.” “Half way down: ‘E. N. —16791.’* “Oh, you read me, eh?” spoke the operator with a fraternal smile. "I’ve got it —Interested?” "Slightly. What’s the cart’ "Eastern Nebraska railroad —empty grain special 16791.” “Going or gone?* The operator wheeled in his chair and darted a quick glance at the shanty clock. “An hour out,” he replied. Marvel vouchsafed no explanation. He seized a tab of yellow blanks and his hand sent a pencil drifting over it rapidly. “Get that quick as you can to the division superintendent,” he directed. “Hello!" exclaimed the man, glancing over the message. "Resilius Marvel—we’ve heard of you! Here she goes, best I can put through.” Within twenty minutes my friend pressed close to the operator as a challenge click of the ticker apprized his well-trained ears that the reply was coming. “E. N. sidetrack at Junction B. and guarded. Special engine wait ing for you at Siding 4. Crew instructed. Command us. James B. Rappelye D. Sethis was chopped up into fragments by the operator verbally as it came over the wire. We reached Junction B. after a free and easy dash that was inspiring for its jolting novelty. We found two trackmen in charge of freight car 16791 of the Eastern Nebraska line. It was "special” for carrying thirty per cent, bulk of millet and fine grain seeds, and had a double damp proof sheathing, open at the top about tour feet from the floor base. Resilius Marvel got a piece of heavy wire from the flagman and began to prod for the package the clever bank thief had dropped into what he had considered a safe nest. At twenty minutes of three, precisely five hours after Derby Dan had stolen the |BO,OOO package of treasury notes from the bank, that goodly sum* once more rested within the vaults of that institution.