“Harding makes me sick,” he growled. “If he’d stuck to me in that last deal, the trouble would never have hit us, because he’d have recognized Phillips as soon as he saw him. And now he’s trying to queer me with the gang. I’m going after him some day, when I get my roll, and you’ll see the feathers flying then.”
“Look out that they’re not yours,” said Marsten warningly. “Harding’s all sorts of a skunk—I’ll admit that. But he’s got a big pull, and he’s a pretty handy man when any one starts trouble in his neighborhood. And, say, if I were you, I’d let this chap Merriwell alone. You don’t need to drag him into this game, and if you do, you’re likely to spoil your pickings. Why don’t you take what you can get and make your get-away? You can come back after him some other time. There’s no use spoiling a good plan just to get revenge. The money’s the thing.”
“I’ll run this game my own way,” said Barrows. “You’re all right, Johnny, but you don’t know how it feels to be stuck by a gang like that. And it’s up to me to come back at him. The way Harding and his gang are talking, the whole story will be known all over the country in a few days. I couldn’t go on a track or in a saloon, from here to Seattle, without getting the laugh from somebody. I’ve got to make good there, or I’ll lose my pull. Can’t you see how it is?”
“I guess so,” admitted Marsten. “But, just the same, I think I’d wait.”
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
CORRUPTING THE BANK CLERK.
In smaller cities, like New Haven, banks are not so thoroughly organized as in a city like New York or Chicago. There is less business, and the duties are not divided up with such exactness among the employees. Moreover, every man employed in a bank like the Elm National, of New Haven, is known personally to depositors and bank officials alike. All are trusted, and they have opportunities to do many irregular things, if they are inclined to take advantage of the chances.
Riggs, the paying teller of the Elm National, had stolen a thousand dollars from the bank. He had told himself, as have so many before him, in similar circumstances, that he was only borrowing the money. He intended to bet it all on a certain horse, and he was sure the horse could not lose. Marsten had been the tempter.
“Sure, I’m giving you the right steer,” Marsten had said. “Ain’t I always treated you right? You know me. You don’t make that bet with me. I take your money, and get it down for you in a big room in New York, just as a favor. If you lose, I don’t get the money, see? It goes to the room. Now, I tell you this gee-gee is going to win at three to one. If you win, I expect you to slip me a couple of hundred for the tip, see? And cheap, at that. Now, who do I want to see win—you, or the pool room? If you win, I get two centuries. If you lose, I don’t get nothing. Figure it out for yourself!”
Riggs could do what he liked with figures, but human nature was too much for him. He figured it out as Marsten wanted him to, and “borrowed” the thousand dollars from the bank, intending to replace it a day or two later, before there was any chance of a discovery of his theft. He was safe from discovery in any case for three weeks, as he understood matters, because there would be no inspection of the bank before that time. So he fell into the trap that has yawned so often before men in a position like his own, and his love of gambling turned him into a thief.