Jim raced around the block, and came, as he ran, to the rear of the bank building. He could see the entrance to the great vault, in the light that burned in the room, and a man working at its lock.
He shouted for help then, but no one seemed to hear him. And, determined to do what he could for himself, and by himself, he returned to the front of the bank building, and tried the door again. This time he found it yielded. He was inside the bank in another moment, and stumbled at once over the body of the watchman. Jim was no surgeon, but he saw at once that the man was not badly hurt. Moreover, he had been looked after. He was gagged, and his wild eyes stared up at Jim, but his wound was only in the fleshy part of the leg, and a tourniquet had been roughly applied to relieve him of his only serious danger, that of bleeding to death.
Jim slipped the gag out of his mouth; then dashed for the rear of the bank building. A shout told him that he had alarmed the robbers, but he didn’t hesitate a moment. It was a reckless, foolish thing to do, for he should have stopped to think that they would be able, in a fight, to overpower him. But Jim was thoroughly aroused, and he had no thought for his own danger.
Suddenly a man rose in his path. Jim gasped as they clinched. They struggled all over the floor of the room that led into the great vault, and, though the robber fought hard, Jim was getting the best of him. The thief was no match for the Yale athlete, and, wasting his breath as he did in vain curses, he was succumbing fast to Jim’s superior strength. But help came for him. Bascom, who had been inside, heard the struggle, and in a moment, Jim was felled by a heavy blow that descended on his head from behind. He lay unconscious on the floor while Barrows struggled to his feet.
In his hand Bascom held a bundle of yellow-backed bills. His face was livid with rage as he heard the outcry that the watchman, freed from his gag, was making in the front room. He kicked savagely at Jim’s unconscious form, lying on the floor before him.
“This game’s up,” said Barrows, as he got his breath back. “We’ll have to make a quick get-away. Slug that infernal watchman as you go by, and make him stay quiet for a while. I think he’s still roped up. No time to take him away as we planned. We’ll have to go some to get away ourselves.”
“I’ve still got this,” exclaimed Bascom, waving his bundle of bills. “Better than nothing. Gee, what tough luck! Just when everything looked so good, too.”
“No use thinking of that,” growled Barrows. “Hang on to that and come along. Listen to that watchman. If he’s loose, we’ll never get out of this. Hurry!”
They had to pass the watchman to get out of the bank. He cursed them volubly as they approached on the run, but a terrific blow from Bascom’s slingshot, the same weapon with which he had felled Jim, silenced him effectually. Suddenly Barrows turned and ran back to the room where the vault was.
“Where are you going?” cried Bascom. “Come on—are you crazy?”