“Yes, for when I took the jewels to re-set I guaranteed the safe return of each jewel. I had to do that because they were afraid some workmen might try to substitute other jewels not so good—which is sometimes done.”
“And you said they were worth seventy-five thousand dollars?”
“All of that.”
“Those robbers certainly made a haul.”
“It drives me crazy to think about it,” groaned Oliver Wadsworth.
“Perhaps the others who went out will catch them,” answered our hero, hopefully.
Soon the doctor arrived and took charge of old Tony Wells, whom he knew well. As Wells was a widower, living alone, the doctor said he would take the old man to his own home, where he could have constant attention.
“He is already in a fever,” said the physician. “We had better not try to question him at present. It will only excite him the more.” And a little later the sufferer was placed on a litter and carried to the doctor’s residence.
By this time the news was circulating that the Wadsworth jewelry works had been robbed, and many persons spent the rest of the night looking for the two young men who were supposed to be guilty of the crime. Oliver Wadsworth and an officer remained at the offices, guarding the wrecked place and looking for clews of the evildoers. But nothing in the way of evidence against the robbers was brought to light, excepting that they had used several drills and some dynamite on the two old safes, probably blowing them up simultaneously. They had taken the tool-bag with its contents with them and also another small valise, belonging to one of Mr. Wadsworth’s traveling salesmen.
“I can’t understand why Tony Wells didn’t discover them when they first came in,” said Dave.