THE JANITOR'S ESCAPE
A gag in his mouth added to his strange appearance. Unable to speak or use his hands, he danced up and down and made growling sounds like a mad dog.
The barber shop emptied itself and Kohlman was not able at once to recognize behind the gag and the jaunty disarray of clothing his old friend Werkle, janitor of the bank.
The gag removed, Werkle was able to blurt out the fact that the bank had been robbed. The policeman across the street was summoned, and with him came Coakley. They heard an amazing and somewhat incoherent tale. The policeman, being rather young and inexperienced, listened open mouthed and did not know what to do.
Coakley, the elderly and rather distinguished looking gentleman, suggested that the story sounded "fishy," and the policeman ought to investigate. He did so. The whole party entered the bank and Coakley was able to note that no telltale clues had been left behind. He observed with regret that, while two of the safes gaped wide open and the third contained several wedges, it was still shut tight.
The policeman held the half-crazed Werkle prisoner and guarded the safe while he sent Coakley to the police station to call out the reserves. This errand Coakley neglected and, instead, looked up Jimmy Hope, who, like most robbers, was leading a double life. He had a wife and children in one part of the city, and in another a fashionable apartment where he was known as Mr. Hopely, a retired capitalist, and had quite a circle of friends, mostly prosperous business men.
From this point, luck turned against the band. The tremendous proportions of the robbery caught everyone's imagination. The underworld was as much excited as the police, and talk and speculation would not die down. The neglected hole in the lock came to view again, and it was now appreciated in its full significance.
The police recollected their tip about Hope and his gang which had come to them at the same time as the discovery of the hole and their suspicions began to grow against some of the real perpetrators. Still, for many weeks, there was not an atom of evidence against any member. Patrick Shevelin, the weak link of the chain, began to feel the pressure.