With Dick Rover gone to Oklahoma and Texas and his brother Tom having taken his departure for the Far West, Sam Rover found himself in sole charge of the offices in Wall Street and consequently the only one to battle with a situation that was becoming worse every day.
Not to worry their wives and the young folks too much, the older Rovers had not told everything concerning the peculiar financial straits in which they were beginning to find themselves. These straits resolved not alone into difficulties brought about in the brokerage business because of the stolen securities but embraced also a deal made in the oil fields and two other deals in the mining districts of the Far West. Because of this peculiar situation, The Rover Company had to obtain at least four hundred thousand dollars inside of the next six weeks. Of this amount the banks and the firm’s friends could be relied upon to furnish two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. But where the other one hundred and fifty thousand dollars was to come from, neither Dick, Tom nor Sam knew.
Up to within twenty-four hours of the time that the younger Rovers arrived at Key West nothing more had been heard concerning the bandits who had held up the offices. Both the authorities and the private detectives seemed to be doing their best on the case, but without material results. They had traced Ken Greene to Galveston and there lost track of the clerk. They had also traced the Browns and the Martells from the middle of New York State to Buffalo, only to learn that these individuals had without warning left that city for parts unknown.
“It’s more than likely they escaped into Canada,” said Sam Rover to himself when he received this news. “And if that’s so, it will become more difficult than ever to trace them.”
And then, while the youngest of The Rover Company officials was in the depth of despair, something happened which gave him information of the greatest importance. A retired broker whom the Rovers knew fairly well was stopping in town at a hotel near the Grand Central Terminal and Sam resolved to call on this man, thinking that possibly he might obtain an additional loan to carry on the business. Sam had come over from his home on Riverside Drive in the family automobile. On Forty-second Street near Fifth Avenue the car was halted by the police because of a fire in that vicinity.
“I’ll get out and walk the rest of the distance,” said Sam to the chauffeur. “You can remain here or otherwise turn back and park somewhere near Sixth Avenue.”
There was great excitement in the street, and people were hurrying in several directions to clear the way for the fire engines. Sam found himself caught in the crowd which suddenly broke, and then a long hook and ladder truck came speeding toward him, the powerful motor making a fearful din as it advanced.
Close to Sam was an elderly man who limped slightly. He carried a cane and when the crowd broke this clattered to the roadway and the man seemed suddenly terror-stricken.
“Get out of the way there! You’ll be killed!” yelled some one in the crowd.
Sam had leaped to safety, but now turned and saw the peril of the older person. He leaped forward once more, caught this individual by the arm, and dragged him backward just as the massive hook and ladder truck dashed madly by, the wheels just grazing the feet of the rescued one.