The Telegraph Messenger Boy; Or, The Straight Road to Success

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

  "We have two, in fact I may say three, for the copy of the first one thatwent down the river with me has never been handed you, and one came a dayor two after you left."

  "I know what they are, so you needn't mind about them. I will take thelast, if you please."

  "It arrived within the last half hour," explained Ben, as he handed thedamp sheet to him.

  The boy watched his countenance while Burkhill was reading it. It tookseveral minutes for him to study out its meaning, but he did so withoutthe aid of pencil or paper. A strange glitter came into his gray eyes asthe meaning broke upon him, and he muttered something to himself whichthe lad did not quite catch.

  Then he turned to the desk, and was engaged only a minute or two when hehanded a return message to Ben, paying for it as the man had done whoforwarded the other to him. It was this:

  "Uibu rthsr fybdumz Vhkk cf qdzex.

  "G. R. Burkhill."

  Applying his rule (which compelled him to go to the end of the alphabet,when, for instance, the letter "a" demanded to be represented by apreceding letter), Ben Mayberry very readily translated the cipher asfollows:

  "That suits exactly. Will be ready.

  "G. R. Burkhill."

  CHAPTER XVII

  DECIDEDLY MIXED

  During the summer succeeding the carrying away of the bridge whichconnected Damietta with Moorestown, it was built in a more substantialmanner than before. It was an easy matter, therefore, to cross from oneplace to another, and carriages and pedestrians went back and forthbetween the two States at almost every hour of the day. Damietta was alarge city, while Moorestown was only a small town; but the latter waspleasantly located and had a large and excellent hotel, where quite anumber of guests spent the most sultry months of summer.

  In Damietta were three banks, and the cipher telegrams which I have laidbefore the reader, beyond a doubt referred to one of them, but it wasimpossible to fix with certainty upon the right one. As a matter ofprudence, therefore, it was determined to keep the three undersurveillance. The Mechanics' Bank, as it was called before it adopted thenational system, stood on the corner, and the general impressionprevailed that this was the institution referred to, as it will beremembered that the word "corner" occurred in one of the telegrams.

  A few minutes' reflection convinced me that it was utterly out of thequestion for the intended robbery to succeed. Such desperate projectsdepend mainly on their secrecy for success. The watchmen in all the bankswere instructed to be unusually vigilant, the policemen were apprised ofwhat was suspected, a number of officers were to lounge upon the streetsnear at hand in citizens' clothes, and Aristides Maxx, one of the mostskillful detectives in the metropolis, was engaged upon the case.

  The general belief was that the burglars, discovering what thoroughpreparations were on foot, would not make the attempt. That sort ofgentry are not the ones to walk into any trap with their eyes open.

  Respecting Detective Maxx, there was much wonderment, and the mayor wasvexed that he did not show up. Some doubted his presence in Damietta, butthe superior officer of the city felt that courtesy demanded that Maxxshould report to him before trying to follow up any trail of his own. Ifhe was with us, he was so effectually disguised that no one suspected hisidentity.

  "I wonder whether that seedy, tramp-like fellow who stole the cipherdispatch, can be Detective Maxx?" said Ben to me on Wednesday nightbefore he started for home.

  "It is not impossible," I answered, "for detectives are forced to assumeall manner of disguises. He may have chosen to stroll about the city inthat make-up."

  "But if it is the detective, why did he go to all the trouble of copyingoff the telegram by sound when he could have got it from us with thetranslation merely by making himself known?"

  "I admit that, if he is a detective, he acts, in my judgment, in a veryunprofessional way. He was so persistent in his attentions that he musthave known he was sure to draw unpleasant, if not dangerous suspicion, tohimself."

  "Do you know," said Ben, with a meaning smile, "that I half believe thisstranger and Burkhill are partners? They have been here at the same time,they show interest in the same thing, and like enough are working out thesame scheme of robbery."

  This had never occurred to me, and I was struck with its reasonableness,when I came to think it over. The ill-favored individual signed the name"John Browning" to the dispatch which he sent some months before, as apretext for visiting our office so much--but that was clearly an alias.

  "Well," said I, "it is all conjecture any way. With the ample warning theauthorities have received, I do not believe there is the slightestprospect of a robbery being committed. I intend to retire to-morrow nightat my usual hour with little fear of my slumbers being disturbed."

  A few minutes after, we bade each other good-night, and wended our wayquietly homeward.

  My experience was singular, after parting with my young friend--notmeaning to imply that anything unusual occurred to me; but the mentalprocesses to which I was subjected that evening, in the light ofsubsequent events, were very peculiar, to say the least.

  I am convinced that the inciting cause was the remark made by BenMayberry to the effect that he believed the seedy individual was aconfederate of Burkhill, and that the two were perfecting a scheme forrobbing one of the banks--most likely the Mechanics'.

  "Ben is right," I said to myself. "His bright mind has enabled him tograsp the truth by intuition, as a woman sometimes does when a man hasbeen laboring for hours to reach the same point."

  But before I could satisfy myself that the boy was right, a stillstronger conviction came to me that he was wrong. The men were notpals--as they are called among the criminal classes--and they were notarranging some plan of robbery.

  While I was clear on this point, I was totally unable to form any theoryto take the place of the one I had demolished.

  Who was the pretended John Browning, and what was the dark scheme thatwas being hatched "in our midst," as the expression goes?

  These were the questions which presented themselves to me, and which Icould not answer in a manner thoroughly satisfactory to myself.

  "They are all wrong--everybody is wrong!" I exclaimed to myself;"whatever it is that is in the wind, no one but the parties themselvesknows its nature."

  This was the conclusion which fastened itself in my mind more firmly thelonger I thought.

  "Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty, and it is the only thingwhich will protect us in this case--helloa!"

  So rapt was I in my meditation that I had walked three squares beyond myhouse before I awoke to the fact. It was something which I had never donebefore in all my life.

  CHAPTER XVIII

  BETWEEN TWO FIRES

  In the meantime, Ben Mayberry underwent an experience more peculiar thanmine.

  I cannot speak of the mental problems with which he wrestled, but, as heexplained to me afterward, he had settled down to the belief that theMechanics' Bank was the one against which the burglars were perfectingtheir plans. He was hopeful that the only outcome of the conspiracy wouldbe the capture of the criminals, though he felt more than one pang whenhe reflected that the principal one was a relative of Dolly Willard, whowas the personification of innocence and goodness to him.

  Ben had acquired the excellent habit of always being wide awake,excepting, of course, when he lay down for real slumber. Thus it was thathe had gone but a little distance on his way home when he became awarethat someone was following him.

  I doubt whether there is a more uncomfortable feeling than that caused bysuch a discovery. The certainty that some unknown person, with no motivebut a sinister one, is dodging at your heels, as the mountain wolf slinksalong behind the belated traveler, awaiting the moment when he can springupon him unawares, is enough to cause the bravest man to shiver withdread.

  The night was very dark. The day had been cloudy, and there was no moon;but
Ben was in a large city, with an efficient police system (that is,equal to the average), there were street lamps, the hour was notunusually late, and there were other persons beside himself abroad. Andyet, in the heart of the metropolis, at the same hour, crimes have beenperpetrated whose mystery has never been unraveled to this day.

  Ben Mayberry may have felt somewhat uneasy, but there was not so muchfear as there was curiosity to know what earthly reason any living mancould have for following him in that stealthy fashion.

  Surely no one could suspect him of being burdened with wealth. The onlyarticle of any account about his person was a silver watch, which hadcost him sixteen dollars. He never carried a pistol, for he saw nonecessity for doing so. If he should find himself beset by enemies whowere too strong to be resisted, he could run as rapidly as any person inthe city, and a short run in Damietta was enough to take him to a placeof safety inaccessible to his assailants.

  When he turned into the narrow street which led across the bridge wherehe had his affray with Rutherford Richmond and his companion, hereflected that it was perhaps the most dangerous spot in theneighborhood. There was a single lamp just before stepping on the bridge,where one might run against another before seeing him.

  He hesitated a minute as he made the turn. It was easy enough to reachhis home by a different route, which was somewhat longer, but which waswell lighted all the way, and there could be little risk in taking it.

  "I'll stick to the usual way," muttered Ben, striding resolutely forward;"I don't believe anything like murder is contemplated."

  At that moment he would have felt much more comfortable had he possesseda pistol, or some kind of weapon, but he did not hesitate, now that hehad "put his hand to the plow."

  A minute later he stepped on the bridge, where the gas lamp shone uponhim, and, with his usual deliberate tread, passed off in the gloom of theother side. The instant he believed himself beyond sight of his pursuer,he quickened his gait but continually looked back in the hope of gaininga view of the man, for the boy was naturally eager to learn who it wasthat was playing such a sinister trick on him.

  Just beyond, on the limit of his field of vision, Ben saw a shadowyfigure cross quickly, to the other side of the street. The stranger didthis before coming within the glare of the lamp, which would haverevealed him too plainly to those who might be curious to secure aglimpse of his features.

  An instant later his footfall was heard on the bridge, and he was walkingrapidly toward Ben, crossing again to the same side of the street, assoon as over the stream. The boy stepped lightly but briskly forwarduntil he reached Carter's Alley, into which he entered a couple of yards,and then came to a sudden halt.

  At the moment of doing so, his foot struck something hard. He knew whatit was, and, stooping down, picked up a large stone, which he heldtightly grasped in his hand. Such a weapon was very formidable in thegrip of a vigorous boy, who could throw with the skill and accuracy ofBen Mayberry.

  The lad had scarcely halted when he caught the tip, tip of his pursuer,who was evidently determined to overtake him before he reached thelighted regions beyond. Ben was astonished just then, to note that asecond person was just approaching from the opposite direction in thesame guarded fashion.

  "It must be there are two of them," was the sensible conclusion of theboy; "they have agreed to meet here, where I wouldn't have much showagainst them."

  It followed that the party of the second part was waiting for the comingof young Mayberry, doubtless with the understanding that his partner incrime should follow him to a certain point near at hand, when the twowould close in on him.

  Ben had never suspected any such conspiracy as this, and, had he gone alittle further, he would have walked directly into the arms of the secondruffian, while peering behind him at the shadowy villain who "stillpursued him."

  But the lad had stopped short and disconcerted the plans of theconspirators by so doing. The one who was lying in wait was quick to missthe boy whom he had seen cross the bridge, and, suspecting something waswrong, he hastened stealthily toward the creek to learn the explanation.

  CHAPTER XIX

  BAFFLED!

  It so happened that the two men stopped directly at the mouth of thealley, within a few feet of Ben Mayberry, who could hear their guardedwords, though he could not catch the first glimpse of their figures.

  A whistled signal or two first made them certain of each other'sidentity, and then the one who had crossed the bridge gave utterance toan oath, expressive of his anger, as he demanded:

  "Where has he gone?"

  "How should I know?" growled the other. "I waited where you told me towait, and finding he didn't come, I moved down to meet him, but he don'tshow up."

  "'Sh! Not so loud. He can't be far off."

  "I don't know how that is, but he's given us the slip. There's an alleyright here, and he has turned into that."

  "I don't hear him."

  "Of course not. Because he's standing still and listening to us."

  "Flash your bull's-eye into the alley."

  When Ben Mayberry heard this order he trembled, as well he might, for hewas so close to the scoundrels that the first rays of the lantern wouldreveal him to them. Indeed he dare not move, lest the noise, slight as itwas, would bring them down on him.

  He grasped the ragged stone in his hand and braced himself for theexplosion that he was sure was at hand.

  But fortunately, and most unexpectedly, the crisis passed. The othervillain growled in return:

  "What do you mean by talking about a bull's-eye? I doused the glim longago."

  "Why did you do that?"

  "The cops are watching us too close. I had hard work to dodge one of 'emto-night. Do you s'pose I meant to have him find any of the tools on me?Not much."

  The other emitted another sulphurous expression, and added the sensibleremark:

  "Then there's no use of our hanging around here. He's smelt a mice anddodged off, and we won't get another such a chance to neck him."

  These words sounded very strange to Ben Mayberry. Well might he askhimself what earthly purpose these scamps could have in wishing to waylayhim in such a dark place, where he was not likely to secure help. Thelatter part of their conversation proved they contemplated violence.

  "There's one thing certain," Ben said to himself, "if I manage to get outundiscovered, I will see that I am prepared for such gentlemenhereafter."

  The couple suddenly stopped talking, for the sound of approachingfootsteps were heard. The two moved into the alley, and a minute after aheavy man came ponderously along with a rolling tread. He was puffing ata cigar, whose end glowed so brightly that the tip of his nose and hismustache were seen by the three standing so near him. Ben believed thewretches intended to assault and rob the citizen, and doubtless they werenone too good to do so. In case the attempt was made, Ben meant to hurlthe stone in his hand at the spot where he was sure they were, and thenyell for the police.

  Policy alone prevented the commission of the crime.

  "We could have managed it easily," whispered one, as the portly citizenstepped on the bridge and came in sight under the lamp-light, "but Iguess it was as well we didn't."

  "No; it wouldn't have paid as matters stand. We might have made a goodhaul, but the excitement to-morrow would have been such that we wouldn'thave had a show to-morrow night."

  The heart of the listening Bob gave a quick throb, for this was anotherproof of the intended crime on Thursday evening.

  "Well," added one, "that telegraph fellow was too smart for us this time,and has given us the slip. We may as well go home, for there's nothingmore to do."

  Thereupon they began walking toward the creek, with the deliberate treadof law-abiding citizens, who, if encountered anywhere on the street atany hour, would not have been suspected of being "crooked."

  Ben Mayberry had good cause for feeling indignant toward these ruffians,who clearly intended personal violence toward him, and who were, in allprobability, desperadoe
s from the metropolis, brought into Damietta forthe most unlawful purposes.

  When they had gone a short distance, Ben stepped out of the alley uponthe main street, and stood looking toward the bridge. This was slightlyelevated, so that in approaching from either side, one had to walkup-hill. The illumination from the lamp, of which I have made mention,gave a full view of the structure itself and all who might be upon it.Ben saw his pursuer, in the first place, when he stepped on the planks,but the light was at his back, and he shrouded his face so skillfullythat not a glimpse was obtained of his features.

  In a few minutes the conspirators slowly advanced out of the gloom andbegan walking up the slight ascent toward the bridge, becoming moredistinct each second. When they reached the middle of the structure, theywere in plain sight, but their backs were toward Ben, who, however, hadthem where he wanted them.

  "I think I can plug one of them," muttered the shortstop of the Damiettaclub, as he carefully drew back his arm and fixed his eye on the fellows."At least, here goes."

  Gathering all his strength and skill, he hurled the stone at the one who,he believed, had been lying in wait for him. The whizzing missile shotthrough the air like a cannon-ball, and landed precisely where thethrower intended, directly between the shoulders of the unsuspectingvillain, who was thrown forward several paces by the force of the shock,and who must have been as much jarred as though an avalanche had fallenon him.

  CHAPTER XX

  WATCHING AND WAITING