CHAPTER XXXII—THE PERTURBATIONS OF THE BANK MANAGER.

Otago Witness, Issue 2664, 5 April 1905, Page 64

CHAPTER XXXII— THE PERTURBATIONS OF THE BANK MANAGER.

The windows ot the Kangaroo Bank were ablaze with light, although the town clock had struck 11. It was the dolorous hour ■wlieai the landlord of the Lucky Digger, obliged by relentless law, reluctanty turned into the street the topers and diggers who filled his bar. Bare-headed, the nails of his right hand picking nervously at the fingers of his left, the manager ol the bank emei'ged from a. side door. He glanced up the dark street towards the great mountains, which loomed darkly in. the Cimmerian gloom. "Dear me, dear me," murmured he to himself ; "he is very late. What can have kept him?" He glanced down the street, and saw the small semi-inebriated crowd wending its way from tire hostelry. "It was really a most dreadful storm — the most dreadful thunder storm I ever remember." His eye marked where the light from the expansive windows of the bank illumined the wet asphalt pavement. "Landslips frequently occur on newly-made tracks, especially after heavy rain. It's a great risk, a grave risk, this transporting of gold from one place to another." "Evenin', boss. Just a little cheque for twenty quid. I'll take it in notes." The. men from the Lucky Digger had paused before the brilliantly-lighted building. "Give him a chance. . . . Let him explain. . . . Can't you see there's a run on the bank!" "Looks bad. . . . Clerks in the street. . . , All lighted up at this time o' night. . . No money left." "Say, boss ; have they bin an' collared the big cafe? Do you want assistance?"' Hie manager turned 'to take refnge in the bank, but his tormentors were relentless.

"Hold on, mate — you're in trouble. Confide in us. If the books won't balance, what matter? Don't let that disturb your peace of mind. Come an' have a drink. . Take a hand at poker? . . First tent over the bridge, right hand side."

"It's n,o go, boys. He's narked because he knows we want an overdraft. Let 'im go and count his cash." The manager pulled himself free from the roysterers, and escaped into the bank by the side door; and the diggers continued noisily on their way.

The lights of the bank suddenly went out, and the manager, after carefully locking tie door behind him, crossed' over the street to the livery stabler, where a- light burned during the greater part of the night. In a little box of a room where harness hung on all. the walls there reclined on a bare and dusty couch a red-faced man, whose hair looked as if it had been closely cropped with, a pair of horse clippers. When he caught sight of the .banker, he siit up, and exclaimed, "Good God, Mr Tomkinton ! Ain't you in bed ?" • "It's this gold escort, Manning — it was due at 6 o'clock."

"Lcok here !" The stable-keeper rose from Ills scab, placed his hand lovingly on a trace which hung limply on the wall. "Don't I run the coach to Beaver lown? — and I guess a coach is a more tickliyh thing to run than a gold escort.. Lord bless your soul, isn't every coach supposed to arrive before dark? But tie-v don't.

• The road was slippy with frost — I had to come along easy,' the driver "11 say. Or it'll be, ' I got stuck up by a fresh in the Brown River.' That's it. I know. But they always arrive, some time or other. I'll bet you a fiver — one of your own if you like — that the rivers are in flood, and your people can't get across. Same with the Beaver Town coach. She was due at 6 o'clock, and here I've been drowsing like a morepork on this couch when I might have been in bed. An' to bed I go. If &lie comes in to-night the driver can darn well stable the 'orses 'imself. Good-night."'

This was a view of the question that had not occurred to Mr Tomkinson, but he felt he must confer with the sergeant of police. The lock-up was situated hi a by-street not far from the centre of the town. The sergeant, was sitting at a desk, and reading the entries in a big book. His peaked shoko lay in front of him, and he smoked a cigar as be pored over his took. He said nothing — he barely moved — when the banker entered ; but his frank face, in which a pair of blue eyes stood) well apart, lighted uip with interest and attention as Mr Tomkinson told his tile. When the narrative was ended he said quietly, "Yes, they may be weather-bound. Did you have a clear understanding that tlie gold was to be brought in to-day?" "It was perfectly understood."

"How much gold did you say there was?"

"From fifteen to twenty thousand 1 pounds' worth — it depends on how much the agent has bought." "A lot of money, sir — quite a nice little

fortune It must be seen to. I'll tell you Avhat 1 will do. Two mounted constables bLiill go out at daylight ; and I guarantee that if the escort is to be found, they will find it " "Thank you,"' faid Tomkinson "I liiink it ought to be ('one. You will send them out first thing in the morning? Thank yon. Good-nig-hl." As tbe banker turned to go the sergeantiope. 0 "Wait a moment," ho said. "I'll come with you." They walked contemplatively side by side till they reached the main street, Avhere a hiort^man stood, hammering at Manning's stable sate.

"Nobody in?" said the sergeant. "You had better walk inside and put the horse tip yourself."' "1 happen to know that the owner has gone to bed," said Tomkinson. XL s horseman pa^-scj through the gateway, and w?s about to lead his SAveating mount into the stables wher the sergeant stopped him. "Which Avay have you coano to-day?" he asked.

"From Bua-h Robin .Creek/ replied the traveller. "You have ridden right through since

morning?" "Yes; why not?" "Did you overtake some men with a packhorse?" "No. I passed Mr Scarlett, after a thunder storm came on. That was on the other side of the ranges."

"How did you find the rivers — fordable?"

"They were all right, except that on tliis side of the range they had begun to rise."

"Perhaps the men we are expecting," said the nervous banker, "took shelter in the bush when the storm came on. You may have parsed withovt seeing them." "Who are the parties you ai'e expecting?" asked the traveller.

"Mr Zahn, the agent of the Kangaroo Bank, was on the road to-day with a considerable quantity of gold," replied the sergeant. "You mean the gold escort?"' said the traveller. "It left about three hours before I did."

"Do you know Mr Zahn?" asked the serseant. "I do. I've sold gold to him." "I'll take your name, if you please," said the sergeant, producing his pecket-book. "Rr.Dker — Thonias Samuel Rcoker/' said

the traveller.

"Where are you to be found?"

"At the Lucky Digger." "Thank you," said the sergeant, as he closed his book with a snap and put it in his pocket. "Good-nighl." "Good-night." said the traveller, as he led his horse into the stable. "If I can be of any use send for me in the niom-

ing"lt's pretty certain tlmt this Kan never saw them," said the sergeant; "therefore they wero rot on the road when he passed thcni. They must have been, as yon say, in the bush. There is plenty of hope yet-, sir ; but I should advise yon to get up pretty early to-morrow morning, if you want to see my mounted men start. Gcodlught."

With a gloomy response Mr Tomkiuson turned liis steps towards the bank, there to toss on a sleepless had till morning.

be continued.)