Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 24 June 1936 — Page 21
DNESDAY, JUNE 24,1086 ___
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ARDING walked up the narrow ‘pathway, slashed through the brush for the power company’s right-of-way, until he came to the top of the hill overlooking the little town of Randall. He stopped, looking down on the twinkling lights. There were not many, as it was well past: midnight. . He glanced up at the power lines far above his head, and grinned. His plans were worked out in detail, and there was plenty of time before the 3 o'clock freight pulled through, bound for the city. From a satchel, he took a coil of stout cord with a weight on one end. He swung it in a circle a couple of times, then hurled it high into the air, retaining the end without the weight. He heard the wires sing as the cord fell across them. The weight plopped into the bushes a few yards away. He slipped on his gloves, then began to pull the cord, hand over hand, It slid noiselessly across the wires. He pulled slower, his eyes shifting to the lights of the town. He heard a faint click as the narrow copper band on the other end of the cord touched the outside wire. “He jerked easily. A blinding flash of blue-green flame followed, as the copper rested across the wires. Below, in Randall, every light had blinked out. Harding pulled the cord free, jammed it and the weight into his
bag, and started down the hill-|
side. Nd J 2
'“NTERING Randall, he moved through alleyways until he reached a rear window of the Farmers and Merchants Bank. Brief work with a jimmy opened it. There was* a burglar-alarm’ attachment but, with no ‘electricity, there was no alarm. Harding grinned. Inside the bank he found the door of the old-fashioned vault, and made the necessary preparations to blow it open with as little noise as possible. When everything was ready, he lit a fuse, then ran for the back office. ‘There was a dull thud that shook the building, but made little noise. Harding waited a moment, then crept back to the vault. A single flash of his light showed his work was that of a master, The vault lock was broken neatly, and the door gaped open. He quickly stuffed bundles of curfency into the satchel, closed it, Shen made his exit through the back window. He closed the window to postpone discovery of his visit as long as possible, He grinned as he moved up the alleyway. He crossed a deserted street and entered a dark little park.
DAILY SHORT STORY
By Wilfred Brown=—— ry pr A I py alae
of Time
UST then, the flashed on. Harding cursed silently, and melted into the shadows of a tree. He hadn't expected the power company to get service resumed so soon. He saw a police-
Well, evidently, there was no alarm yet. The clock in the window of the telegraph office across the street said 1:30. Harding grunted. He had made better time than he expected. There still was an hour and a half until the freight train was due to pass through. : He sat down and leaned against the tree trunk. He was hidden there, safer than he'd be down by the railroad tracks. He dozed . . .
» » »
UDDENLY, he came awake with a jerk. Was that a train whistle he had heard? But the clock said only 2. Harding grinned. He must be getting jumpy. And then; he hard it again, the undoubted shriek of a locomotive, then the rumble of cars on tracks, a couple of blocks away. Harding leaped gto his feet, grabbed his bag, and ran. He stumbled and Half-fell as he reached the railroad tracks. The Jast éar of the freight had just rattled by. The engine whistled as it picked up speed. 3 Harding was on the tracks, running madly. He had to catch that train and get away. He was gaining. . ... ‘ Then, a shadowy figure wit a lantern loomed ahead, by the cross ing watchman’s little house. “Just a minute, fellow!” the watchman called. “Whats’ all the rush? * Stop!”
» s # :
"ARDING caught the glint of a gun. He stopped, breathless. “I—I'm trying to get home,” he panted. “Haven't any money, an’ wanta make the freight.” The watchman raised his lantern. “Yeah? Well, I think well just hold you for investigation. Come on. He motioned significantly with his gun. Harding had no answer to that gun. With the incriminating satchel in his hand, he was escorted back to the center of town, on his way to jail. As they passed the telegraph office, he noted that the clock in the window said 2:15. ] “Say, when did they change the time of that train?” he asked. The watchman glanced at the ‘clock. “No change. That electric clock is an hour slow, ‘counta the power -being off a while ago.” . . THE END
(Copyright, 1036, by United: Feature
Syndicate, Inc.)
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