THE MYSTERIOUS ROBBERIES AT ASHTONVILLE.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIV, Issue 304, 22 December 1903, Page 3 (Supplement)

THE MYSTERIOUS ROBBERIES AT ASHTONVILLE.

(Complete Story.)

It was after o p.m., and the litile bank in the budding town of Asbtruivill.- , had been closed fur the dny to the public by the message how who was now playing crickiM \ ; .■i-om-'v in an adjoining paddock. "I"ti«• rest -f the bank staff, consisting ol the maimed , und one clerk, wen , still at wi.rk ili iJj the modest building. Suddenly the manager* busy pen stopped, tie looked ncio;.-, at the clerk with self-accusation in iiis mild eyes.

"I'd nearly- forgot len that 1 promised Flora at dinner-lime to let you on" the moment the b. ill i-lnge.l, , ' he aaid. "She wants to see IJcssie Swan, aiul thinks of riding to the Mill this uft'Tnoon. No, don't slop t.> iirush those entries, Harry. I'll lix everything ujj. You gi'i away as fast ax you can. il you don't w:int to have Flora scolding her dad for nol 1- 'm ping his premise. ,.

So Harry l)urii|Ueri|ue grabbed his hat. and nothing loath .--lipped out into the sunshiny a'ternoon. tip If an hour later he and pntiy Flora Furnival were cantering along the road to Sloan's Timber Mill, very happy in ouch others company. For they were engaged lovers. And though Harry's present circumstances placed the prospect of their marriage soinrwhal indefinitely in the future, that did not trouble them. They were both very young, and could afford to wait. They returned home early in the summer evening, Flora bubhling over with the exciting news she had to impart.

Only think, father, what has happened:"' she cried, bursting into the sitting-room upon her pareuts, without waiting to remove her riding-skirt. "Jack Sloan rode into Ashtonville this morning nnd drew the usual money for the mill hands" wages to-morrow, didn't he? "Well, just imagine, he lost all the xnonev on his wav home!"

Mr Furnival. whose gentle face wore &n unwonted look of trouble, roused himself with a start from a fit of abstraction to echo his wife's exclamation:

"Lost it. My dear Flora, I don't see how he could! 1 myself gave it him, and saw him put it carefully into that strong linen bag of his, and then place the bag ir: the inside pocket of his coal.' .

'"It's the strangest thing imaginable, Mr Furnival," put in Harry Dunqueique. "Jack declares that he remembers feeling the bag in his pocket, heavy and bulky, just as he was passing Bassett's Jarni. and that he w.is getting near the Mil! when it suddenly struck him that the weight and bulk in his pocket, were no longer Ilu re. Putting in his hand lie found nothing but the empty bug tli;;i had hold I lie money. There wasn't 60 ni'.ich ;,;- n hole the size of .a pin's head in either bag or pocket, yet the cash had vanished to the last shilling of it."

"I've always thought Jack Sloan a silly young fellow." said Mr Kurnival, with angry incredulity, "but still I would have credited him witb more sense than to try to impose such an absurd tuek-and-bull kind of story as thai up n pr-pie. I; wo :ld have sounded more believable to have said that he'd been bailed up in broad daylight by a masked highwayman with a pistol! ] hope to goodness the foolish lad hasn't been playing any dishonest tricks."

'""'i Dad. yo\i surely can't think thnt, Jack has stolen the money himself?" cried liorn, ugh;.*t und reproachful. "He couldn't, h'f wouldn't! And if you only saw the poor boy! He is really half distracted about losing the money, and his father has been abusing him terribly for Ins carelessness."

■■' '-un'l <li:. -tm •( l.irk Sloan hna been careless, and Pin certain he is telling thr>. truth ns far as he knows it," saiil Harry thoughtfully. "But his story makes I he whole thing very incomprehensible. Jack, when he found the money gone, nirie slowly back as far as Bassett's farm, searching the road carefully in the expectation of finding it strewn with gold and silver, though it did seem impossible that the contents of the bag could have found their way to the ground without" his knowing it. But not a solitary coin was to be seen anywhere. And the two or three people he met coming from the direction of Ashtonville—decent men whom he knew well—all declared that Ihey had seen not?ii;i<jf of the missing money. Now, had it fallen on the road anywhere —a lot of loose gold and silver—they could not have failed to have seen it, for two of them had been rirling nnlj' n mile or so behind Jack all the way from Ashtonville."

"Well, as it can't have evaporated into air in his pocket, it comes to this—it must have been stolen from him!" exclaimed Mr. Furnival, with an irritability quite foreign to his mild nature.

"But Jack declares he never met anybody, or so much as drew rein, from the time he left Ashtonville until he missed the money." replied Harry Dunquerque. "Really, the affair seems an utter mystery." '"Like all similar mysteries, you'll find *t capable in time of a rational solution." rejoined Mr. Furnival impatiently. And he relapsed into silence, while the others continued to discuss, with consideiable excitement, the surprising disappearance of ihe mill employees' wage money. Mr. Furnival's abstraction and irritability was explained later on when lip accompanied Harry to the gate, on the latter's departure home to the house where he boarded. '""Harry," said he abruptly, "who came into the bank when I was away at dinner to-day ?" Harry's undisguised surprise at the question was visible enough on his face in the bright moonlight. "Let mc think!" he answered. "Why. nobody came in. Not a solitary soul. I had the place to myself all the time. For, you remember, Bobbie went off to bis dinner before you, nnd he didn't come back until you returned." "I didn't wish to speak about it before Flora and her mother," said the manager in a low voice, "but, after you left this afternoon, [ found that the bank had been robbed to-day of nearly a hundred pound*."

'"'Robbed? To-day?" cried Harry in consternation. "Surely there must be -some mistake. Why, to-day has been Buch ft particularly quiet day for a Friday. There hasn't been half-a-dozen people inside the bank doors all day, and none of them people you could dream of suspecting. Besides, it would be a sheer impossibility for any one to get at any money unknown to you or mc, and one >r the other of us has always been be- % aid the counter/

'•Impossibility or not, the thing has happened. Do you think I'd have spoken unless I'd made absolutely sure that ihere was no mistake? that the money was gone without the faintest doubt?' -, 'asked Mr. Furnival a little impatiently. J Brown of Pokorua came in just b"e- ---: fore 1 went out to my dinner, you re- ! member, and he paid into his account ! - I, ' — £ "- ( » in small cheques and the j rest in gold and notes. He had sold i sonic heifers at the cattle sale over at Marstoirs Flat yesterday, he told mc. I duly counted and noted the money, and put it into one of the drawers before I went out—a parcel by itself. It was only after 1 had sent you off to your ride I with Flora that, happening to open the I drawer, I founjl only the small cheques. Tlie rest of the money had disappeared— every coin of it A glance at the books showed mc that there was no way of I avoiding the natural conclusion—the money has been stolen. Stolen during :he time I was out at midday. For it [ was in the drawer when I left the bank. I and it was certainly not taken out of the drawer after 1 returned."

"But it most assuredly was not taken while you were away," cried Hcrry decidedly. "I was behind the counter all the time, and, as 1 told you, not even so much as a eat came inside the bank.' . Then, as he suddenly remembered his companion's remark of an hour ago about Jack Sioan, he cried out horrilied, "Good heavens! Mr. Furnival, you surely can't suspect that I've had anything to do with the disappearance of the money?"

"No. Harry, no, my boy; I'd as soon think of suspecting myself!" cried the elder man warmly. And, indeed, that candid young face with the clear, steady eyes and strong mouth which confronted him in the moonlight would have quickly dispelled any suspicions he could have harboured of it's owner's guilt. "I'm afraid I made a rather long dinner hour of it," he went on after a pause, following some chain of thought of his own. "But I was out of tobacco and I went down to Carroll's to buy some, and fell in with that young fellow who's living just now at 'The Crown,' Hudson Savernake, you know. He is an uncommonly pleasant chap, and we got talking, and I turned into the River Reserve to show him the view from the knoll there. And all that wasted a lot of time. Ido wish I hadn't been so long away from the bank." His tone was deeply self-reproachful.

'"But it couldn't signify anyhow," said Harry Dunquerque. wondering. "As I told you, nobody came in when you were out."

"Yes, yes. But it has struck mc as just possible," went on Mr Furnival, hesitatingly, "that perhaps—it has been such warm, drowsy sort of weather, and the day has been so quiet—that, perhaps, you might have dozed a bit and somebody came in and stole the money while you were asleep." Plarry laughed out right. "Dozed! Xot much! I was grafting as hard as I could in order tofget away earlier in the afternoon, and I never was more wide awake in my life." "Then," said Mr Furnival, with a gesture of hopeless perplexity. "I'm at my wit's end to conceive how the money has vanished. But vanished It certainly has, and it will be a stiff undertaking for mc to make it good to the bank." "You won't have too," Harry assured him cheerily. '"Depend upon it, we'll find out what has become of that £01 and lay hands upon it before long. By Jove! doesn't it seem odd that there should be two cases in Ashtonville in which a good round sum of money has unaccountably disappeared —Jack Sloan's and this? I wonder if there is any connection between them?"

But he did not believe there was, for he was inwardly of the opinion that Mr Furnival must have unwittingly mislaid the sum which he declared stoicu-

But Harry was forced to give up this private opinion when he and the manager went thoroughly into the matter together at the bank, early next morning. For it was made clear to him that £31 of the sum paid in yesterday by Mr Brown, of Pokorua, was indubitably no longer in the bank. And. side by side with this fact was the apparent impossibility that it could have been removed from the bank by human agency. ■ "It seems like Black Art," said Harry with a rueful laugh, as he and Mr Furnival gazed at each other helpless and baffled.

This sentiment was echoed in connection with his own loss by Mr Sloan, sen., when he himself arrived a* soon a3 the bank opened, to fetch a fresh supply of money to pay bis employees-

"If Jack is telling the truth—and that T can't but believe—the money couldn't have been stolen from him on the road yesterday any more than it could have leaked out of the bag and his pocket," he asserted vigorously. "But it fairly beats mc to make out how all that solid coin was spirited away from the boy. Seems as if the devil himself must have had a hand in it."

"It would just about clinch that opinion of. his if lie knew that tnere had been a similar kind of disappearance of hard cash here," remarked Harry to Mr Furnival as Mr Sloan went out. Half an hour later Mr Hawkesbury came in. He was Ashtonville's principal grocer and draper combined- Just now he wore a rather worried look. In a lowered voice he explained his errand. He wanted Mr. Furnival and Mr. Dunquerque to be on the look-out for certain marked pieces of gold and silver and certain one pound notes in case of thfir raching the bank. "For the last week my till is being almost daily robbed." said Mr. Hawkesbury. "And I am nearly driven out of my wits, for I can't imagine now it id done, let alone who is doing it. You know I have nobody serving in the shop except my own family, and, as there are five of us, including my girl, you may be sure that the till has been well watched ever since we discovered what was going on. But the watching has been no good as far as discovering the thief, or preventing the thefts, goes." ■■■ Mr. Furnival and Harry Dunquerque'a concerned interest was even deeper than their exclamation told.

"Yes. though we are all living with our eyes on that till, the robberies are still going on," continued the worthy shopkeeper. "It's just as if an invisible hand was at world And, because there was nobody else I could psosibly suspect, I —Heaven forgive mc! —thought it might be my youngest boy's doing. f or no better reason than that the lad is fond of a good game of billiards, and I thought that that might be made to spell worse things, though he is as sober and good a lad as-could be. But when r taxed Jim with it—Oh, Lord! he made mo downright ashamed of myself." "I should think so!" put in Harry. mdignantly. "Why, Jim is as straight a chap as I know!" "Well, I expect Shfi at the

confounded business had gone some way to craze mc," said Jim's father penitently. "But now that I've turned detective on my own account, and the unknown thief has got a handful of my marked money. ' perhaps he'll betray himself before long. And yet, I dorrv, know. It's the wierdest thing I've ever come across. For my common sense tells; mc that nobody could possibly put his! band in that till without some of vs 1

.ti.iwing it." When the bank door swung to behind' Mr. Hawkeslmry, the manager and his' clerk looked at each other in blank dis-j may. "What has come to Ashtonvil]e?"| groaned the elder man. "A thief gifted with invisibility, it! would seem." responded Harry, trvins! to speak lightly. 'Tm persuaded novv i tliat the mysterious agency which is operating undetected on Hawkesbury's ] till, is the same that took the mill wage I money out of Jack Sloan's pocket yesterday morning, and Mr. Brown's gold and notes out of this drawer here-—be-1 fore our very eyes, it must hnvp been. I though we never saw it. It smacks uncomfortably of the supernatural, does! n't it?"

"Oh. there's a natural solution of flic' 1 mystery to be found if we were <>nly clever enough —that I don't doubt," re- ; turned Mr. Purnival, impatiently. ''Otii ]

two muddle-headed constables here worft be any pood; but. if llawkes bury's marked money doesn't trap the thief in a couple of days, we rm;.st send to Wellington for a first-class detective."

The next day was Sunday, and, on Monday morning, Ashtonvilio was thrown into a state of excitenfent by the news that there hnd been ;-, most mysterious robbery at "The Crown Hotel."

Mr. Furnival and Rnrry Drmquprqjie had kept, the knowledge of the bnpk robbery strictly to themselves. Messrs. Rloan and Rawkesbury had been dis criminating in their choice of the eirs to which they confided the tale of their losses. But poor Mrs. Pettifoy. the landlady of "The Crown," invoked the sympathy of all Ashtonville with !'.

loud cry of indignant consternation. Phf had had seventy pounds in noti's and loose cash locked up in her strong box at eleven o'clock on Saturday night; and when she opened it on Monday morning she found that, fifty pounds had disappeared. The key of the strong box had never left her person in tiie interval; the lock, which was of a very unusual make, had clearly not tampered with; nnd the strong box ilself had been locked up in her own wardrobe.

Ashtonville pounced upon this (inn mystery with avidity. Tt. would furnish food for talk to the township for ?iiam days. The stream of custom that ufc once set in towards "The Crown"' bni might he hold to suggest a laudable attempt on the part of the townsfolk to make good to the landlady the loss she h.'td just sustained. Mr. Fnrnival and Harry Dunqnerque hoard the details of "The CAwn" robbery with a feeling almost liko panic. "The invisible thief, again!" pried Harry. "Good gracious! if this sort of thing is going to go on, Ashtonville will be cleaned out of cash pretty soon, fhall we ever find the solution of those mysterious robberies!" The solution was nearer than he could have imagined. Early in the afternoon, while "The Crown" robbery sensation was still smoking hot to the good folks of Afihfonville. they were treated to another — bigger this one, but with the sobering touch of tragedy in it. News came thai there had been n terrible accident at Sloan's mill, and that the victim was Mr Hudson Savernake. the pleasnnf -spoken stranger, who had been slaying for the last ten days at "The Crown" on a fishing holiday.

The particulars of the accident were somewhat meagre and confused, but it was understood that Mr Savernakc hail taken a ride out to the mill, and was being "shown round" by young .Tack Sloan when some careless gesture of his brought his clothing in contact with the teeth of the great circular saw then in motion. The next instant the saw was whirling him round with it. As swiftly as possible the poor torn and battered body bad bepn released from its frightful position, but, even before the doctor galloped out from Ashtonville and gave his verdict it had been realised at the mill that Mr Savernake's injuries mv.st prove fatal.

Curiosity almost got the better of sympathy in Asbtonville when, early in the evening, a messenger rodo in from Sloan's Mill, in hot haste. And presently Mrs Pettifoy, of "The Crown."' in company with Mr Furnival, of the bank. and Mr Hawkesbury, and a valise, which was said to belong to tho dying man, ■were seen to drive away very rapidly in the direction of Sloan's Mill. The interested public of Ashtnnvillo decided, on the spot, that Sirs Pettifoy, kindly old soul, who had been rather "mothering" Mr Savernake during his stay r.t "The Crown," was now on her way to nurse him. Not being thoroughly conversant with the range of a bank manager's duties, they concluded, after a little hesitation, that Mr Fnmival must have been summoned by the dying man on business. But, when it came to accounting for Mr Hawkesbury's being sent for to the death-bed. Ashtonvillcrs declared themselves completely nonplussed. What could Mr Ravernake want at that time with the flourishing tradesman with whom, as likely as not, he had never exchanged a single word?

But Ashtonville could not ho more puzzled in the case of Mr Hawkcsbury than were all the trio, ■who ocrupir-d Airs Pettifoy's big dog-cart, in regard to the reason which had made Mr Sarernake summon them, each and all, with such surprising urgency to his death-bed. But they lost sight of their bewilderment in a great access of sympathy and awe. when they entered the room in which the frightfully injured man had been placed to die. Swathed in ghastly suggestive bandages, he lay flat on his back in the bed, and as the door opened to admit thfl three for whom he had sent he turned his eyes towards it. "Furnival, Hawkesbury, Mrs Pettifoy and Sloan—yes, that's all of them,' , he murmured as if speaking to himself. Except that the peculiarly piercing quality of the gaze of his black eyes remained unaltered, he was no longer recognisable as the fine, handsome young fellow of whom Ashtonville had had ppproving knowledge for the last ten clays. The circular saw had, indeed, been very cruel to him.

Mr Furnival, who had found Mr Hudson Savcrna]~e, on more than one occasion, a very pleasant and interesting companion, approached the bedside, and tried to find words to express his painful feelings of sympathy. The jttercxDg eyes fixed. ».h.emsehres on

the bank v manager's fade. ■'JJuii'i. waste your sympathy on mc," said the faint Mjiee. "I am a scoundrel/ Before those in the room could qiiite realise that the words wore not the outcome of delirium., lie won't on, speaking slowly and v.iih painful stoppages. '"Perhaps it was 'he Power Who sees sent mc ou: here to-da , , on an i Ie \ him --to ibis tj.u luyhow, i iiuVi: been given Lime to repent. . . . and to undo the potty villainirs which 1 have practised in AshtonviiU—n- ver elsewhere before in my life, believe inc. .. . I Lav en , t always been a scoundrel."

He broke ofT to take a stimulant from the doctor, and then proceeded with his confession to the group of utterly iiinnzed people areund thY bod. "In vender valise, which 1 asked 3lrs Petti foy to bring here with her tonight She will lind the fifty pounds she iiiJs<t'.l from her strong-box this morning. The money that disappeared from the hank Is there too, Mr Furnival, .. . and the money Jack yioan couldn't think how he lost on his way home on' Friday morning. The greatest part of the wish I've been supplied with from your till is there also, Mr Eawkesbury Jiiu I'm iifyaid I've spent 1 of it. ... 1 was frightfully hard up. I came I<> Ashionville, (hitching aimlessly iit the skirts of (,-lianci , hoping (hat something u■■r,'l ii.!;;:,)- turn v.T) f.ir me'somehow.

I'ut noihinj; did. A>;d 10 keep my head above water . ... the thought came to mc to turn to account the power that I've .... always known I've had. My villainy was thr meanest of its kind

. . . utterly despicable. . . . I'ut it answered wcl'. and when 1 fo\md I could <TPt money ... so easily and safely viii of [liiwkpsbr.ry's till, I. . . tried for bigger sums. And yesterday I took lifiy pounds from you, Mrs Pcttifoy, .. . atul you have been very kind to mr\" Mrs Pettifoy'a over-strained feelings had found v. hi in /subchu-d subs, th;it wore oddly punctuating the dying man's utterances.

"But I seemed to have lost my conscience. I only thought of scooping as much as 1 could out of Aslrlonvi.Me, and then going .. . elsewhere to try the game-afresh. 1 thought " '"But whal was I'm: game? However did you niiui.igi , to ■.:■•'. money out of my til! with all of v.= watching so close?" hurst out -Mr Hawkesbury, so curious ii> learn this secret sis to be oblivious ot everything else for the moment.

"1 made your sou. Jim, give it mc," replied Savprnako. "Xo. don't swear! the lad is all right . . . a good lad. lie .. . doesn't know. ... I hypnotised him." Then, in accents growing ever feebler, he went on to speak of the remarkable mesmeric powers which be had known to be his ever since he "was a boy — power so grcal tbat in the course of an ordinary interview lie was able to send !i!t subjects into a hypnotic trance, even without their knowledge or volition; and, while in this trance, to lay upon them his commands to do a given 1 hing at. ;i given lime, and to forget all

about if, alter it was done, and even up 1o the moment of doing it. It was a terrible power for .1 man to possess, but the dying Raveraake swore to his listeners that he had ticvr-r used it to any bad purpose except in 11:0 rases they knew of. lie was not able to exercise this power over everybody, or to ils complete extent over a great many. liut still tlio number was not few of those, whom he could make absolute and uneonseionsi slaves of hi.s will. And lie hud found some of that number in Aslitonville.

lie had easily established, unknown In the lads themselves, a complete ascendancy over young Jim llawkeshury and .lack Sloan, the one of whom he had (-01110 lo know at the. billiard table in ihr "Crown/ , and the other when idling in the liver near Sloan's mill. And when tempted by the devil and his own necessities In: compelled Jim, by hypnotic .suggestion, to keep him freely supplied with the cash of Ilawkesbury peri\ while the poor lad retained no knowledge of his nefarious aelions beyond Hie moment of their performance. Then, emboldened by Ids eaay success with Jim, Savernake brought oil his bigger coups.

A casual remark-, dropped by Jack Rloan. indicating that that week he would have to ride in to Ashionville early on l'Yiday forenoon to fetch the mill employees wage-money from the bank, sent S;/J make, on the morning in question, to a lonely spot on the road beyond LJnssett's Farm, to intercept the youth on Iris way home. Jim, reining up his horse in answer to the scoundrel's friendly greeting, was. in a few instants, completely brought under the spell of the other's extraordinary mesmeric powers. 'When requested to do so, he cheerfully emptied the contents of his cash bag into Ravernake's pockets. The latter then sent the lad on his way again with the whole, episode, of their meeting completely "wiped out of his mind.

The scoundrel made an imobtrusive return to Ashtonville through tho scrub along the river bank in good time to keep an appointment which he had mads with Mr Furnival on the previous night, when lie and that gentleman hod been quietly smoking their pipes alone together in the vicarage garden. Trying his marvellous powers on the mild, unassertive bank manager, he found him a highly susceptible subject, and, without scruple, lie at once proceeded 'to turn the fact to hi 3 own criminal advantage. He told Mr Furnival to bring him tomorrow, in the dinner hour, whatever gold and notes he could conveniently lay his hands on in the bank. The order was certainly not registered in Mr Furnival's normal consciousness; but, nevertheless, at the appointed the poor man met his villainous hypnotiser, and, in the privacy of (he River Heserve. put into his hands the identical notes and gold, for the disappearance of which he was afterwards so utterly unable to account. The task of getting money out of simple Mrs Pettifoy had perhaps been the easiest of all. to Savernake, Living in the Fame house with her, he couM hypnotise her a dozen times a day if he wished. A whispered suggestion, on the Sunday afternoon, had sent the mesmerised woman at once to her strong box, and fifty pounds passed from that info his well-locked valise.

It was with the greatest difficulty that Hudson Savernake delivered himself of lii-s sluimeful confession, and he lay al-

most r.s cmo dead when lie had struggled through to the end. Five persons, including 'the doctor, had listened to his faltering utterances in astounded silence. Four of these five had been filled, in addition, with burning wrath and indignation to lea.m with what humiliating ease they themselves, or .their sons, had been made to sprve as the unconscious tools of a villain in his acts of p.udaciorts dishonesty.

But an awful Nenie-is had overtaken the villain, and the span of life now remaining to him was too short to be measured by hours. This knowledge kept words of anger or reproach from the lips of those he ha-d wronged so shamelessly. The dying -nan opened his eyes after a pause and looked feebly from one to the other. ''1 had to speak the truth before I liu'd," he muttered, faintly. "I don't a.=k you to forgive mc. . . But I've given you your money back again, and . . . Nobody need know the ptu-t I've made you play. The doctor here knows this deathbed confession isn't for the public ear . . . Furnival and Sirs Pcttifoy won't give themselves away by speaking out. And Sloan and Hawkesbury will hold their tongues, not to make laughingstocks of their boys.'' , ITe seemed 'to be speaking rather to himself than to those about him, and his voice now trailed off almost into inaudibility. "I'm glad all the world won't know what a scoundrel I've been . . . for I haven't always been a scoundrel. . . . And there's smother and the girls in the Old Country, and . . . and . . ." The voice passed into a silence that it never broke again, and two hours later Hudson Savernake was dead.

The strange story of his villainy was buried in the grave with him. The few to whom it was known kept the secret— for obvious reasons, since they were mainly those whom he had made his victims and innocent accomplices by virtue of his abnormal mesmeric powers. So it comes about that the robberies at Asbtonville last summer are still generally regarded as insoluble mysteries in that rising New Zealand township.