The Sword of Damocles Part 44

"Yes, and is, as I am sure Mr. Stuyvesant will second me in a.s.serting, honesty to the back-bone."

"Janitors always are," observed the detective; then shortly, "How long has _he_ been with you?"

"Three years."

Another "humph!" and an increased interest in the ink spot.

"That is not long, considering the responsibility of his position."

"He was on the police force before he came to us," remarked Mr.

Sylvester.

Mr. Gryce looked as if that was not much of a recommendation.

"As for the short time he has been with us," resumed the other, "he came into the bank the same winter as my nephew and myself, and has found the time sufficient to earn the respect of all who know him."

The detective bowed, seemingly awed by the dignity with which the last statement had been uttered; but any one who knew him well, would have perceived that the film of uncertainty which had hitherto dimmed the brightness of his regard was gone, as if in the other's impressive manner, if not in the suggestion his words had unconsciously offered, the detective had received an answer to some question which had been puzzling him, or laid his hand upon some clue which had till now eluded his grasp. The inquiries which he made haste to pursue, betrayed, however, but little of the tendency of his thoughts.

"The janitor, you say, knows the combination by which the vault doors are opened?"

"The _vault doors_," emphasized Mr. Sylvester. "The safe is another matter; that stands inside the vault and is locked by a triple combination which as a whole is not known to any one man in this building, not even to myself."

"But the boxes are not kept in the safe?"

"No, they are piled up with the books in the vaults at the side of the safe, as you can see for yourself, if you choose to join Mr. Folger."

"Not necessary. The janitor, then, is the only man besides yourselves, who under any circ.u.mstances or for any reason, could get at those boxes after business hours?"

"He is."

"One question more. Who is the man to attend to those boxes? I mean to ask, which of the men in your employ is expected to procure a box out of the vaults when it is called for, and put it back in its place when its owner is through with it?"

"Hopgood usually does that business, the janitor of whom we have just been speaking. When he is upstairs or out of the way, any one else whom it may be convenient to call."

"The janitor, then, has free access to the boxes at all times, night and day?"

"In one sense, yes, in another, no. Should he unlock the vaults at night, the watchman would report upon his proceedings."

"But there must be time between the closing and opening of the bank, when the janitor is alone with the vaults?"

"There is a s.p.a.ce of two hours after seven in the morning, when he is likely to be the sole one in charge. The watchman goes home, and Hopgood employs himself in sweeping out the bank and preparing it for the business of the day."

"Are the watchman and the janitor on good terms with one another?"

"Very, I believe."

The detective looked thoughtful. "I should like to see this Hopgood,"

said he.

But just then the door opened and Mr. Folger came in, looking somewhat pale and disturbed. "We are in a difficulty," cried he, stepping up to the table where they sat. "I have found two of the boxes unlocked; that belonging to Hicks, Saltzer and Co., and another with the name of Harrington upon it. The former has been wrenched apart, the latter opened with some sort of instrument. Would you like to see them, sir?"

This to Mr. Sylvester.

With a start that gentleman rose, and as suddenly reseated himself.

"Yes," returned he, carefully avoiding his nephew's eye; "bring them in."

"Hicks, Saltzer and Co., is a foreign house," remarked Mr. Stuyvesant to the detective, "and do not send for their box once a fortnight, as I have heard Mr. Sylvester declare. Mr. Harrington is on an exploring expedition and is at present in South America." Then in lower tones, whose sternness was not unmixed with gloom, "The thief seems to have known what boxes to go to."

Bertram flushed and made some pa.s.sing rejoinder; Mr. Sylvester and the detective alone remained silent.

The boxes being brought in, Mr. Gryce opened them without ceremony.

Several papers met his eye in both, but as no one but the owners could know their rightful contents, it was of course impossible for him to determine whether anything had been stolen from them or not.

"Send for the New York agent of Hicks, Saltzer and Co.," came from Mr.

Sylvester, in short, business-like command.

Bertram at once rose. "I will see to it," said he. His agitation was too great for suppression, the expression of Mr. Stuyvesant's eye, that in its restlessness wandered in every direction but his own, troubled him beyond endurance. With a hasty move he left the room. The cold eye of the detective followed him.

"Looks bad," came in laconic tones from the paying teller.

"I had hoped the affair begun and ended with my individual loss,"

muttered Mr. Stuyvesant under his breath.

The stately president and the inscrutable detective still maintained their silence.

Suddenly the latter moved. Turning towards Mr. Sylvester, he requested him to step with him to the window. "I want to have a look at your several employees," whispered he, as they thus withdrew. "I want to see them without being seen by them. If you can manage to have them come in here one by one upon some pretext or other, I can so arrange that screen under the mantel-piece, that it shall not only hide me, but give me a very good view of their faces in the mirror overhead."

"There will be no difficulty about summoning the men," said Mr.

Sylvester.

"And you consent to the scheme?"

"Certainly, if you think anything is to be gained by it."

"I am sure that nothing will be lost. And sir, let the cashier be present if you please; and sir," squeezing his watch chain with a complacent air, as the other dropped his eyes, "talk to them about anything that you please, only let it be of a nature that will necessitate a sentence or more in reply. I judge a man as much by his voice as his expression."

Mr. Sylvester bowed, and without losing his self-command, though the short allusion to Bertram had greatly startled him, turned back to the table where Mr. Folger was still standing in conversation with the director.

"I will not detain you longer," said he to the paying teller. "Your discretion will prevent you from speaking of this matter, I trust." Then as the other bowed, added carelessly, "I have something to say to Jessup; will you see that he steps here for a moment?"

Mr. Folger again nodded and left the room. Instantly Mr. Gryce bustled forward, and pulling the screen into the position he thought best calculated to answer his requirements, slid rapidly behind it. Mr.

Stuyvesant looked up in surprise.

"I am going to interview the clerks for Mr. Gryce's benefit," exclaimed Mr. Sylvester. "Will you in the meantime look over the morning paper?"

"Thank you," returned the other, edging nervously to one side, "my note-book will do just as well," and sitting down at the remote end of the table, he took out a book from his pocket, above which he bent with very well simulated preoccupation. Mr. Sylvester called in Bertram and then seated himself with a hopeless and unexpectant look, which he for the moment forgot would be reflected in the mirror before him, and so carried to the eye of the watchful detective. In another instant Jessup entered.

What was said in the short interview that followed, is unimportant. Mr.

Jessup, the third teller, was one of those clear eyed, straightforward appearing men whose countenance is its own guarantee. It was not necessary to detain him or make him speak. The next man to come in was Watson, and after he had gone, two or three of the clerks, and later the receiving teller and one of the runners. All stopped long enough to insure Mr. Gryce a good view of their faces, and from each and all did Mr. Sylvester succeed in eliciting more or less conversation in response to the questions he chose to put.