Chapter XXIV. The Burglary.

Driven From Home

by Horatio Alger

Carl seated himself behind a stone wall on the opposite side of
the street from the factory. The building was on the outskirts of the
village, though not more than half a mile from the post office, and
there was very little travel in that direction during the evening.
This made it more favorable for thieves, though up to the present
time no burglarious attempt had been made on it. Indeed, Milford had
been exceptionally fortunate in that respect. Neighboring towns had
been visited, some of them several times, but Milford had escaped.

The night was quite dark, but not what is called pitchy dark.
As the eyes became accustomed to the obscurity, they were able to see
a considerable distance. So it was with Carl. From his place of
concealment he occasionally raised his head and looked across the way
to the factory. An hour passed, and he grew tired. It didn't look
as if the attempt were to be made that night. Eleven o'clock pealed
out from the spire of the Bap- tist Church, a quarter of a mile away.
Carl counted the strokes, and when the last died into silence, he
said to himself:

"I will stay here about ten minutes longer. Then, if no one
comes, I will give it up for tonight."

The time was nearly up when his quick ear caught a low murmur of
voices. Instantly he was on the alert. Waiting till the sound came
nearer, he ventured to raise his head for an instant above the top of
the wall.

His heart beat with excitement when he saw two figures
approaching. Though it was so dark, he recognized them by their size
and outlines. They were Julius Gibbon, the bookkeeper, and Phil
Stark, the stranger staying at the hotel.

Carl watched closely, raising his head for a few seconds at a
time above the wall, ready to lower it should either glance in his
direction. But neither of the men did so. Ignorant that they were
suspected, it was the farthest possible from their thoughts that
anyone would be on the watch.

Presently they came so near that Carl could hear their
voices.

"I wish it was over," murmured Gibbon, nervously.

"Don't worry," said his companion. "There is no occasion for
haste. Everybody in Milford is in bed and asleep, and we have
several hours at our disposal."

"You must remember that my reputation is at stake. This night's
work may undo me."

"My friend, you can afford to take the chances. Haven't I agreed
to give you half the bonds?"

"I shall be suspected, and shall be obliged to stand my ground,
while you will disappear from the scene."

"Two thousand dollars will pay you for some inconvenience. I
don't see why you should be suspected. You will be supposed to be
fast asleep on your virtuous couch, while some bad burglar is robbing
your worthy employer. Of course you will be thunderstruck when in
the morning the appalling discovery is made. I'll tell you what will
be a good dodge for you."

"Well?"

"Offer a reward of a hundred dollars from your own purse for the
discovery of the villain who has robbed the safe and abstracted the
bonds."

Phil Stark burst out into a loud guffaw as he uttered these
words.

"Hush!" said Gibbon, timidly. "I thought I heard some one
moving."

"What a timid fool you are!" muttered Stark, contemptuously.
"If I had no more pluck, I'd hire myself out to herd cows."

"It's a better business," said Gibbon, bitterly.

"Well, well, each to his taste! If you lose your place as
bookkeeper, you might offer your services to some farmer. As for me,
the danger, though there isn't much, is just enough to make it
exciting."

"I don't care for any such excitement," said Gibbon,
dispiritedly. "Why couldn't you have kept away and let me earn an
honest living?"

"Because I must live as well as you, my dear friend. When this
little affair is over, you will thank me for helping you to a good
thing."

Of course all this conversation did not take place within Carl's
hearing. While it was going on, the men had opened the office door
and entered. Then, as Carl watched the window closely he saw a
narrow gleam of light from a dark lantern illuminating the
interior.

"Now they are at the safe," thought Carl.

We, who are privileged, will enter the office and watch the
proceedings.

Gibbon had no difficulty in opening the safe, for he was
acquainted with the combination. Stark thrust in his hand eagerly and
drew out the box.

"This is what we want," he said, in a tone of satisfaction.
"Have you a key that will open it?"

"No."

"Then I shall have to take box and all."

"Let us get through as soon as possible," said Gibbon,
uneasily.

"You can close the safe, if you want to. There is nothing else
worth taking?"

"No."

"Then we will evacuate the premises. Is there an old newspaper
I can use to wrap up the box in? It might look suspicious if anyone
should see it in our possession."

"Yes, here is one."

He handed a copy of a weekly paper to Phil Stark, who skillfully
wrapped up the box, and placing it under his arm, went out of the
office, leaving Gibbon to follow.

"Where will you carry it?" asked Gibbon.

"Somewhere out of sight where I can safely open it. I should
have preferred to take the bonds, and leave the box in the safe.
Then the bonds might not have been missed for a week or more."

"That would have been better."

That was the last that Carl heard. The two disappeared in the
darkness, and Carl, raising himself from his place of concealment,
stretched his cramped limbs and made the best of his way home. He
thought no one would be up, but Mr. Jennings came out from the
sitting-room, where he had flung himself on a lounge, and met Carl in
the hall.

"Well?" he said.

"The safe has been robbed."

"Who did it?" asked the manufacturer, quickly.

"The two we suspected."

"Did you see Mr. Gibbon, then?"

"Yes; he was accompanied by Mr. Stark."

"You saw them enter the factory?"

"Yes, sir; I was crouching behind the stone wall on the other
side of the road."

"How long were they inside?"

"Not over fifteen minutes--perhaps only ten."

"Mr. Gibbon knew the combination," said Jennings, quietly.
"There was no occasion to lose time in breaking open the safe. There
is some advantage in having a friend inside. Did you see them go
out?"

"Yes, sir."

"Carrying the tin box with them?"

"Yes, sir. Mr. Stark wrapped it in a newspaper after they got
outside."

"But you saw the tin box?"

"Yes."

"Then, if necessary, you can testify to it. I thought it
possible that Mr. Gibbon might have a key to open it."

"I overheard Stark regretting that he could not open it so as to
abstract the bonds and leave the box in the safe. In that case, he
said, it might be some time before the robbery was discovered."

"He will himself make an unpleasant discovery when he opens the
box. I don't think there is any call to pity him, do you, Carl?"

"No, sir. I should like to be within sight when he opens
it."

The manufacturer laughed quietly.

"Yes," he said; "if I could see it I should feel repaid for the
loss of the box. Let it be a lesson for you, my boy. Those who seek
to enrich themselves by unlawful means are likely in the end to meet
with disappointment."

"Do you think I need the lesson?" asked Carl, smiling.

"No, my lad. I am sure you don't. But you do need a good
night's rest. Let us go to bed at once, and get what sleep we may. I
won't allow the burglary to keep me awake."

He laughed in high good humor, and Carl went up to his
comfortable room, where he soon lost all remembrance of the exciting
scene of which he had been a witness.

Mr. Jennings went to the factory at the usual time the next
morning.

As he entered the office the bookkeeper approached him pale and
excited.

"Mr. Jennings," he said, hurriedly, "I have bad news for
you."

"What is it, Mr. Gibbon?"

"When I opened the safe this morning, I discovered that the tin
box had been stolen."

Mr. Jennings took the news quietly.

"Have you any suspicion who took it?" he asked.

"No, sir. I--I hope the loss is not a heavy one."

"I do not care to make the extent of the loss public. Were there
any marks of violence? Was the safe broken open?"

"No, sir."

"Singular; is it not?"

"If you will allow me I will join in offering a reward for the
discovery of the thief. I feel in a measure responsible."

"I will think of your offer, Mr. Gibbon."

"He suspects nothing," thought Gibbon, with a sigh of relief.