by Al Lacy
Both vice presidents were away from their desks in another part of the building as David Tabor’s customer walked away. He looked up at the clock on a nearby wall and saw that it was almost five o’clock. He ran his gaze around the interior of the bank and noted that there were still several customers in the place. Some were at the tellers’ windows, and others were at the counter in the center of the lobby, making out deposit slips or doing paperwork that related to the business they would have with the tellers.
It was then that he noticed Arla standing at one of the area’s small gates, talking to a well-dressed man. David did not recognize him. He figured the man might be new in town and possibly had come in to open an account.
Arla said something to the man that David could not distinguish, then turned and headed toward him. As she approached the desk, she said, “Mr. Tabor, I have a gentleman here who says he would like to talk to you about a loan. I told him it’s only a few minutes till closing time and asked if he could come back tomorrow. He said it is very important that he discuss the loan with you now.”
David thought of Tharyn and knew that she would be expecting him at about five-twenty. He always picked her up on weekdays at that time. The hospital staff shift change was at five o’clock.
He glanced past Arla and looked at the well-dressed man. “Since it’s important to him that we discuss the loan right now, tell him I’ll see him.”
Arla turned and went back to the man. “Mr. Tabor will see you.”
The man smiled broadly and followed Arla as she led him to the bank president’s desk.
David rose to his feet behind the desk and smiled at the man.
“Mr. Tabor,” said Arla, “this is Mr. Edward Fremont.”
David extended his right hand across the desk. As they shook hands, he said, “Glad to meet you, Mr. Fremont.”
“Nice to meet you too, sir,” said Fremont.
“Please sit down.”
Fremont sat down on one of the two chairs that stood in front of the desk, and the bank president sat down in his desk chair facing him.
Arla said, “Mr. Tabor, would you like for me to stay in case you need me to help with the loan papers?”
David shook his head. “That won’t be necessary, Arla. It’s eight minutes to closing time. You go on home as soon as you need to.”
“All right, Mr. Tabor,” Arla said, and returned to her desk.
“I’m sorry to come in so close to closing time, Mr. Tabor,” said Fremont, “but this really won’t take long.”
David adjusted himself on his chair. “All right. Tell me how much you need to borrow, then we’ll get into the information I will need.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Arla leave her desk and head for a nearby supply room.
Fremont’s features went stonelike as he leaned forward, keeping his voice low. “I want to borrow all the cash you have in the bank. I mean in every teller’s cash drawer and in the vault. I won’t be signing any loan papers, of course, and I will never pay the loan back.”
David felt a flutter in his stomach as he leaned toward the man. His right hand was already in his lap and he kept it out of the man’s sight. “So this is a robbery.”
“You guessed it. Now I want you to look over there at the counter in the middle of the place.”
David shifted slightly on his chair and looked at the counter, and the man and two women who stood there. The women were busy writing. The man was looking directly at him. “See the man in the dark hat who’s lookin’ at you?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s one of my accomplices. Now look over there by the front door. Do you see that man? He appears to be waiting for someone who is doing business at the tellers’ cages.”
David eyed the man. “Yeah. I see him.”
“Well, if I don’t signal them in a moment that all is well, they’ll start shootin’. Understand? They’ll put bullets in your employees and in your customers. So, let’s you and me go into the vault and get the money that’s in there. I’ll give the signal, and my pals will let people leave unharmed. As soon as the bank is closed, we’ll also take the money from the tellers’ cash drawers.”
David Tabor was filled with rage. There was a thunderous rush of blood in his ears. This slick, polished bank robber was so sure of himself that there was no weapon in either hand.
David’s right hand was still beneath the desktop. His own voice was now stonelike. “Tell you what, Fremont, or whatever your name is. I want you to signal your pals that all is well, and motion for them to come over here.”
The robber looked at him blankly. “What are you talkin’ about? I want them right where they are.”
A frown deepened on David’s face. “You’re not getting what you want.”
“Oh? And what’s to stop me?”
“This Colt .45 I’ve got trained on your belly underneath the desk.”
The robber’s head jerked slightly. He looked at Tabor with wide, incredulous eyes. “You’re bluffin’.” His face went white when he heard the unmistakable sound of a hammer being cocked.
“Am I?”
The robber swallowed hard, but did not reply.
“Now, you signal your pals to come over here this instant, or you’ll have a belly full of hot lead.”
At that moment, Arla Yunker was returning to her desk from the nearby supply room. She frowned when she observed the scene before her. She could tell by the way her boss had his hand underneath the top of the desk that he was holding his revolver trained on the man sitting in front of him. She knew he always kept the Colt .45 in a holster attached to the desk in case he should need it. Both vice presidents’ desks were equipped the same way.
When the robber looked like he was going to resist, David hissed, “Right now, mister! I mean it!”
The robber swallowed hard again. Fear showed in his eyes.
He turned slightly and made a hand signal to both of his accomplices, then motioned for them to come to him.
Only the two women who had been at the counter in the center of the lobby were at the tellers’ cages. All the other customers had gone.
As the accomplices headed their direction, David said, “When they get here, you tell them to very slowly take those guns out of their holsters, lay the guns on the floor, and get their hands up in the air. Got it?”
The robber licked his lips nervously. “Got it.”
When the accomplices came through the nearest gate and approached the desk, they could tell something was wrong. Before either could react, the man in the chair with the pale features said, “Boys, I couldn’t work out the loan. He’s got a gun trained on me beneath the desktop. Take your guns out real slow and put ’em down on the floor, or he’ll kill me.”
Both men bristled and started to go for their holstered weapons.
“No!” blurted their leader. “This guy means business! Do as I tell you and put your hands up over your heads!”
The two men reluctantly placed their guns on the floor.
“Now get those hands in the air!” commanded David.
They obeyed, looking at each other, then at their leader.
A stunned Arla Yunker stood at her desk, gaping at the scene.
Without taking his eyes off the man in the chair, David said, “Arla, will you go explain to one of the tellers that I’m holding these would-be robbers at gunpoint, please? Tell him to run down to the federal building and bring back a couple of deputy U.S. marshals.”
It was almost six o’clock when Tharyn Tabor walked into the hospital lobby from the corridor, carrying a light coat.
The receptionist at the desk smiled at her. “Tharyn, dear, you look very tired. Had a pretty heavy day, didn’t you?”
Tharyn smiled in return. “That I did, Rosie. I am a bit weary.” She ran her gaze to the waiting area. It was empty, so she looked around the lobby, then at the receptionist. “Has my father been here?”
“Not yet. Looks like both of you are running late.”
“Wel
l, certainly he’ll be here any minute,” said Tharyn, and walked to the double glass doors that overlooked the parking lot and the nearby street. Her father’s buggy was just pulling into the parking lot.
She looked back at the receptionist. “Here he is now. Good night, Rosie. See you tomorrow.”
Rosie waved. “Get some rest, honey.”
“I will.” With that, Tharyn slipped into her coat and stepped out into the gathering twilight.
David Tabor pulled the buggy to a halt, hopped out, and threw his arms around his adopted daughter.
They embraced. He kissed her on the cheek, then helped her into the buggy.
When he rounded the buggy and climbed in beside her, Tharyn said, “Must have been a busy day for you too. I just came into the lobby about a minute before you got here.”
“Ah … yes,” he replied, putting the buggy in motion. “Very busy day. I’ll tell you about it at supper, so I can fill your mother in at the same time. You have a late operation to help on?”
“Mm-hmm. Dr. Albert Parker had to do a lithotomy late this afternoon, and I was the only surgical nurse available. The operation took a little longer than he expected. But I’m glad to say the lady will be fine.”
“Good,” he said as he guided the buggy out of the parking lot and made a left turn. A lamplighter could be seen on each side of the street. Both men were busy firing up the street lamps.
David patted his daughter’s hand. “Did Scott get home as scheduled?”
The uneasiness Tharyn had been feeling concerning Scott Hubbard surfaced once more. She managed a smile. “Sure did. He came by the hospital to see me on his way home from the railroad station. We were just starting to talk when Dr. Parker came along and said he needed me immediately to help him with the lithotomy. Scott said he had some things to take care of that would take a while, so he would be by the house about eight o’clock this evening.”
When they arrived home and entered the house through the back door, Kitty was in the kitchen, keeping the food hot.
“Sorry, honey,” said David as he moved up and kissed her cheek. “Had an unexpected situation at the bank right at closing time.”
“And even if he hadn’t,” put in Tharyn as she moved up on Kitty’s other side, “I would have made us both late. I’ll tell you about it during supper.” She kissed her mother’s cheek.
Kitty smiled. “No harm done. You can both tell me your stories while we’re eating.”
Tharyn looked to the hot food on the stove. “Yum, yum, Mama! Makes my mouth water!”
Kitty smiled while stirring gravy in a pan. “I hope it tastes as good as it smells, sweet daughter.” She squinted at her. “You look awfully tired. Are they piling too much on you at the hospital?”
“Not really, Mama. Just so happened I had to help Dr. Albert Parker on a surgery late this afternoon. I’ll explain it while we’re eating. I’m a bit weary, but I’ll be fine after I eat this good meal and get a good night’s sleep.”
“All right. You two get washed up, and I’ll have supper on the table shortly.” She started to turn back to the stove, then looked at Tharyn. “Oh, I almost forgot. Did Scott get home as scheduled?”
“Yes. He came by the hospital to see me, but we didn’t get to talk but a moment. He’s coming here to the house about eight o’clock this evening.”
“Well, it’ll be nice to see Scott again. Hurry up you two, and get your hands washed.”
A few minutes later, the Tabor family sat down at the table. David prayed over the food, then they began eating.
Kitty said, “All right, let’s hear your stories. I want to hear what happened at the bank first. What was the unexpected situation, darling?”
When David told his story about the attempted robbery, both Kitty and Tharyn spoke their praise to the Lord that no one was hurt, and that the three robbers were now behind bars in the Denver County Jail.
David said, “I was glad that Chief Brockman was still at the U.S. marshal’s office when the teller went to get help. He and two deputies came to the bank in a hurry.” He chuckled. “Chief Brockman told me that he was hoping those three robbers were part of that nefarious Tag Moran gang. Didn’t turn out that way, but at least they will each get a long prison term. Chief Brockman knew who they were. He had wanted posters on them. They came here from Kansas and have a long criminal history there.”
Kitty was buttering her second biscuit. “I have a feeling that one of these days Chief Brockman is going to go after that Moran gang. If he does, their days are numbered.”
David smiled. “He will catch them if indeed he concentrates on them. It’s just so hard for him, with all the other outlaws running all over this part of the West. He’s got his hands full.”
“For sure,” said Kitty. “Well, Miss Tharyn, let’s hear about that surgery in which you assisted Dr. Parker.”
Tharyn’s mind had gone once again to Scott and the fact that something was bothering him. Though the supper looked and smelled so good, she found that her concern over Scott had stolen her appetite. She sat morosely pushing her food around on the plate.
Looking up at her mother, she explained about Dr. Parker recruiting her to assist him with the lithotomy on a woman named Helen Kraft, and that the operation took longer than the doctor had estimated.
Kitty looked at Tharyn’s plate, then met her gaze. “You’re just wearing that food out, pushing it around on your plate. I thought you were hungry. Is something bothering you?”
David frowned. “Tharyn, if I upset you by telling you about the attempted robbery, I’m sorry.”
Tharyn looked at her father. “No, Papa. Since you came through it all right, I’m not upset about it.” She ran her gaze to her mother. “What’s bothering me is that when Scott stopped to see me at the hospital, I could tell that he was definitely upset about something. He just wasn’t himself. When I asked him about it, he didn’t have a chance to answer because that was when Dr. Parker approached me about helping him with the lithotomy.”
“Well, honey,” said David, “if Scott still seems upset when he comes tonight, I’ll offer to listen if he needs to share something.”
“All right, Papa,” said Tharyn, giving him a thin smile.
When the meal was over, David went to the parlor to read the daily newspaper while Kitty and Tharyn did the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen.
In the parlor a few minutes later, David heard a knock at the front door of the house and walked into the hall to answer it. He found Scott Hubbard there and welcomed him back. He led him into the parlor and told him to sit down, saying he would go to the kitchen and let Tharyn know he was there.
As David moved to the kitchen he told himself that Scott definitely seemed a bit preoccupied.
When David and Kitty entered the parlor with Tharyn, Scott rose to his feet and greeted mother and daughter.
Kitty said, “I’m really glad you’re back, Scott.” Then she added jokingly, “Tharyn has done nothing but mope around ever since you left.”
Scott looked at the lovely redhead and forced a chuckle. “Oh, she did, eh?”
Tharyn worked up a wide smile. “Yes. That’s all I did.”
“So how are your parents, Scott?” queried David.
Scott turned to him. “Hmm?”
“I said, how are your parents?”
“Oh. They’re fine, Mr. Tabor. Just fine.”
This eliminated that part of Tharyn’s conjecture. Kitty and David exchanged glances, both knowing that something indeed had Scott preoccupied.
David said, “Scott, you don’t seem like your usual jovial self. Something seems to be bothering you. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Thank you, Mr. Tabor. I appreciate your concern, but what I really need is to talk to Tharyn privately.”
David looked at Kitty. “Well, honey, you and I should go to the kitchen and let them talk.”
Kitty nodded. “All right.”
Scott thanked them. They left the parlor and
moved down the hall toward the kitchen.
Scott was visibly nervous. “Tharyn, how about you sit over here in this overstuffed chair, and I’ll sit in this one, facing you?”
“Fine,” she said. “Don’t I even get a hug? We haven’t seen each other for a long time.”
Scott hugged her, but Tharyn could tell his heart wasn’t in it. She sat down, and as he dropped into the other chair and looked at her—obviously nervous—she said, “Scott, what is it?”
Trying to keep his voice from wavering, he said, “I need to tell you a story.”
Tharyn listened with her pulse pounding as Scott told her about a sweet Christian girl in Pueblo he had known since they were in sixth grade together. Her name was Rachel Simmons. He went on to tell her that he and Rachel were childhood sweethearts, but they both thought that’s all it was—a childhood thing. When he left Pueblo at twenty-one years of age to take the job at Rocky Mountain Bank three years ago, he and Rachel parted simply as old friends.
At this point, Tharyn’s pulse was throbbing and her stomach was churning.
Not wanting to look him in the eye, she stared at the painting on the parlor’s far wall. It was an outdoor scene with children running through an open field of wildflowers. There was a dense forest in the distance and snowcapped mountain peaks beyond the forest.
Scott rubbed the back of his neck. “The first three or four times I went back to see my parents in Pueblo after coming to Denver, Rachel and I spent some time together, but still felt simply like old friends. And … and then here in Denver last year, you and I began to notice each other at church, and after dating several times, we felt that we were meant for each other.”
Tharyn let her eyes leave the painting for a second or two, met his gaze, then looked at the painting again.
Scott cleared his throat. “Tharyn, I fully intended one day soon to ask you to marry me. But—but when I first got to Pueblo on this trip, Rachel and I spent some time together. And, well, something clicked between us. We both realized that we had been in love since our teen years and that the Lord had meant us for each other.”