by Oliver Optic
CHAPTER II.
FOUR THOUSAND DOLLARS.
"What on airth does all that mean?" said Captain Boomsby, rising withdifficulty from his chair, and walking towards the front door.
"I'm sure I don't know," I replied. "I saw Nick leap over the counteras though he had found a mocassin-snake behind it."
"Don't say nothin' about mocassins here, for you scart my wife out ofher seven senses once afore," said the captain, savagely, as he stoppedand looked at me.
He had set a trap to have such a snake bite me in his house; but I wasnot thinking of that when I named the venomous reptile. This event, andthe quantity of his own vile fluids he consumed, made him sensitive onthe subject of snakes. I was afraid he would soon see more of them thanhe could manage.
"What made Nick run out so quick, and what did Peverell follow him for,without payin' for his liquor?" continued Captain Boomsby, when he hadproperly admonished me in regard to the snakes.
"I don't know, sir," I replied. "Who was the man that followed Nick?"
"That was Peverell."
"Who is Peverell?" I asked. "What does he do?"
"He is the messenger, I believe they call him, of the First NationalBank of Florida."
"That explains it all, then," I added, beginning to understand thesituation.
"I don't see nothin'. What explains it all?" demanded the captain,testily.
"Peverell had a package when he came in. He put it on the counterbefore he poured out his dram," I explained. "When Nick went over thecounter the package was gone. If Peverell is the messenger of a bank, Ihave no doubt the bundle contained money in bank notes."
"Creation! You don't! But what made Nick go over the bar so like ahoppergrass?" exclaimed the saloon-keeper.
"I don't know. I can only understand what I saw."
"If Nick's got that bundle of money, he's smart," added CaptainBoomsby.
"Do you think it was smart to steal it, captain?" I asked, mildly.
"How big a package was it, Sandy?" replied my tyrant, turning away fromthe moral question.
"It was at least two inches thick."
"Creation! Then there ain't less than a thousand dollars in it!"
"Let us hope that Nick did not take it," I added.
"Well, you go out, Sandy, and see where Nick's gone. I can't leave bothbars without anybody to look out for 'em, for them niggers will come inand steal the liquor as quick as they will chickens."
I was interested to know the meaning of what I had seen in the saloon,and I went out into Bay Street. A crowd of men were rushing towards anarrow street leading down to the river. I followed them, and, near thelanding-place of the Charleston steamers, I saw a colored policeman layviolent hands on the rough-looking person who had walked into thesaloon, looked into the negro bar, and then retreated.
Nick was on the spot, hatless and coatless, almost as soon as thepoliceman had grabbed his victim. Mr. Peverell was only a momentbehind. By this time I had framed an explanation of what had transpiredin the saloon which satisfied me for the moment, whether it was corrector not. While Peverell was concocting his beverage--and he had seemedto me to be very dainty and particular in the preparation of it--he hadalmost turned his back upon the package on the counter.
I was not bestowing any particular attention upon the rough-lookingvisitor, but I had seen him pass close by the bank messenger. Iconcluded that he had snatched up the package on the counter, andretreated with it from the saloon. Nick had either seen the man takethe bundle, or had discovered that it was missing. No one could havetaken it but the person who was passing out of the door. On the impulseof the moment the young bar-tender had leaped over the counter topursue the thief.
Of course a crowd quickly collected around the robber and thepoliceman, with Nick and the messenger in the inner circle. The bankofficial was very much excited, and I judged that the package containeda considerable sum of money. Nick was hardly less disturbed. I wasinterested enough to run all the way to the pier, and work myself intothe centre of the crowd before it had become very compact.
"Dat's jes like you, Buckner," said the policeman, as soon as he couldobtain breath enough to speak,--and he had not quite enough when he didspeak. "I done cotch you doin' dat same ting before."
"Doing what thing, you black spider?" demanded Buckner, who appeared tobe greatly astonished at his arrest.
"You done stole someting," protested the guardian of the peace. "Whatdid you run for if you don't steal someting?"
"I didn't steal anything! I run because the rest of you did, to findout what the matter was," replied Buckner, stoutly. "What did I steal,you black Lazarus?"
"Donno what you 'tole. I 'pose dis gemman can told what you 'tole,"replied the policeman, turning to Peverell.
"He stole a package of bank bills I laid on the counter; that is whathe stole! And there was four thousand dollars in the package, too,"gasped the messenger.
"Did you see me take the package?" demanded Buckner, indignantly.
"I did not; but you were the only person that came into the saloon andleft it while I was there," replied Peverell, sharply; and it wasevident that he had no doubt at all in regard to the guilty person.
"I didn't touch your package! I didn't see any package! I didn't gonear you, or even know you were in the saloon!" protested Buckner,vehemently. "I'm a poor man, I know, and it is hard enough for me toget a living; but I never stole the value of a penny in my life."
"But I saw him take it!" broke in Nick, with almost as much earnestnessas Buckner or Peverell, though he had no special interest in theanimated discussion. "The moment he tried to get out of the saloon, Ijumped over the counter and went for him."
"That's so!" added Peverell, with increasing energy. "But we arewasting time. Why don't you search your prisoner, and get the package?If he stole it, he has the package now."
"Search me as much as you like!" replied Buckner, warmly.
"Search him!" "Overhaul him!" "Clean him out!" shouted the crowd, whowere working themselves up to a fever-heat over the case.
"He's thrown it away before this time," suggested Nick.
"He couldn't have thrown it away without some one seeing him do it,"replied Peverell. "Did any one see him throw it away?"
"No! no!" shouted the bystanders.
I had seen Buckner running down the middle of the narrow street, withthe officer, Nick, Peverell, and others, within a few feet of him. Itwould have been almost impossible for him to get rid of the bundle inany way without being observed.
"He might have thrown it into the river," again suggested Nick.
"He done don't go widin twenty yards ob de riber; and he done don'tfrow no package in de riber when I don't see him. Dis chile hab hisfour eyes open all de time," added the policeman.
"Search him!" "Turn him inside out!" shouted the crowd again.
"Search me all you like!" cried Buckner, pulling out both the pocketsof his pants, and throwing up his arms in readiness to submit to theoperation. "I haven't got the package, and I never saw it."
"How big was de package, Mr. Peverell?" asked the officer, as heproceeded to examine the clothing of the prisoner.
"It was the size of a bank-bill, and about two inches thick," repliedthe messenger, very anxiously.
"I don't find noffin like dat on dis yere prisonder," said the officer,when he had felt his man all over.
"You won't find nothing if you search me all day and all night,"protested Buckner; and there was something like a proud dignity in hismanner, though he was not a good-looking man.
But it is possible to be honest without being handsome; and roguesassume virtues they do not possess. Certainly, the valuable package wasnot concealed upon the person of Buckner. The only alternative was,that he had thrown it away,--cast it into some hole, or pitched it intothe river.
"There can be no doubt this is the man that took the package from thecounter, for no one else came near me while I was in the saloon,"reasoned Peverell, whose vehemence had calmed dow
n, and given place toa deep anxiety.
"I've said all I have to say, and you can do what you like with me; butI will make it hot for some of you before you see the end of thisbusiness," said Buckner, doggedly. "I'm a poor man, but I'm not to betrodden on, any more than a nigger is!"
By this time the crowd had scattered to make a search in the holes andin the water for the missing package.
"What were you doing in the saloon?" asked the messenger, in a mildtone.
"I went in there to see if I could find a man to help me take up acouple of trunks to the St. James," replied Buckner. "I looked into thenigger bar, and then came out. I saw there was a man at the front bar;but I took no notice of him, and didn't see any package."
"Before you had reached the door, this young man had jumped over thecounter, and was chasing you. He was sure you had taken the package;and no one else could have taken it," added Peverell, warming up again.
"But I didn't take it, and that's all I have to say about it," answeredBuckner, decidedly.
"I saw him take it!" repeated Nick, with emphasis. "He must have thrownit into the river."
The policeman led his prisoner away to the lockup, while all the restof us followed up the search for half an hour. The messenger said thebills were done up between two tin slabs of the size of the notes, andinclosed in brown paper. Some searched on the pier, and some went outin boats,--but no package could be found. The search was given up, andI went back to the saloon with Nick and Peverell.
Captain Boomsby's son told his father all about the affair frombeginning to end. He was putting the whiskey-bottle back into its placeunder the counter, when he heard Buckner's step as he approached thefront door. He looked up, saw that the package was gone, and that thedeparting visitor had it. "That was all he knew about it."
"But you said you saw Buckner take it," said Peverell.
"I saw him take it out of the saloon," replied Nick.
The circumstances pointed very strongly, to say the least, to Buckneras the guilty one. I had learned all I wanted to know, and was tryingto say good-by to Captain Boomsby, when Peeks, the steward of theSylvania, came into the saloon with a telegraphic dispatch in his hand.