“Gee whizz. I plumb forgot about that. Poor Hammond did say that there was a reward for the return of the bonds and that he wanted me to get it, but I guess I forgot about it right away in my hurry to get the story over. Jiminy, I wonder if that can be true. Two thousand dollars. Oh, my goodness. Never heard of so much money except in a bank statement. It can’t be true. I—I—can’t take it. It belongs to the wrecking crew more than it does to me. I just happened to be handy, that’s all. Anyhow, I can’t return the bonds in person and get the reward. Left them with the treasurer’s chief clerk in the railroad office and asked them to get in touch with the bank. Gee, maybe I shouldn’t have done that. Maybe I should have hung onto them. But I was so doggone tired that I couldn’t take the responsibility for them any longer, so I did the best thing I could. I wonder if they got back to the bank or—or—gosh, I wonder.”
It suddenly occurred to Jeff that perhaps he had not finished all of last night’s work after all. Perhaps he should not have been so eager to get to bed. Perhaps he should have gone right up to Mr. Davidson’s house and given the bonds to him, and then gone home and to bed. He was not thinking of the reward as these thoughts teemed through his mind. He was thinking rather of responsibilities that had been his and that he had not seen through to the end as he should have done.
“I’m a poor dub—I am,” he muttered as he jumped out of bed and began to crawl into his clothes. “Of course, everything is probably all right about the bloomin’ old securities, but just the same it was my job to see that they got back into the proper hands instead of leaving them to some one else to take care of while I drifted off home and went blissfully to bed. I am a fool. One hundred thousand dollars and I treat it as if it were a lead half dollar. Oh, my, what a dub. Now what shall I do?”
Jeff sat down on the edge of the bed and thought the situation over. Obviously the only thing for him to do was to call up the bank and find out whether the securities did get back to them. His telephone was at the head of his bed. He picked it up and called the bank number. The girl at the switchboard of the bank wanted to know who was calling Mr. Davidson, but when Jeff said “Thatcher of the Freeman,” she exclaimed, “Oh, all right. Hold the line. He wants to speak to you.”
“Wants to speak to me,” said Jeff to himself as he held the wire. “I’ll bet he does. Probably wants to know where I’ve been with those fool bonds and what I did with ’em. Oh, my gosh. Why didn’t I take them up to his house instead of leaving some one else to take care of them,” and Jeff experienced a sickly sensation in the vicinity of his stomach as he stood there nervously waiting for the bank president to come onto the telephone.
“Hello,” boomed a voice at the other end.
Jeff jumped, moistened his lips and tried to speak. The words came with an effort.
“Mr.—Mmmm—er—Davidson, this is Thatcher, Freeman—you know. Say, did—did—are the—have you got those bonds? I left them in the—huh—what—you have? Oh, great. Gosh, I’ve spent a terrible ten minutes. I just woke up to the fact that I had not done my whole job last night, but I was so doggone tired that I guess my brain wasn’t working full time. You see, Hammond gave me the bonds before he died,—had me cut the lining out of his coat and take out the ten bonds all in a neat little package. Say, I never knew before that one hundred thousand dollars could be in so small a bundle. Well, I slipped them into my inside pocket, and I am afraid I was so busy after that that I didn’t pay as much attention to them as I should have, but on my way back on the wrecking train (poor Hammond was dead by that time I guess. A doctor from Granville took him to the Fieldborough Hospital about four o’clock this morning but he said he wouldn’t live an hour) I thought of the bonds again. I realized that it was a heap of money for me to be carrying around in my inside coat pocket, so I spoke to Kelly, the chief dispatcher, about them when I got into the terminal, and he took me over to the treasurer’s office and introduced me to the chief clerk who was reporting for work. He said he would put them in the safe and notify you, and I thought that would be all right because I was so dog tired I was afraid I might fall asleep in the trolley and have my pockets picked. If I’d have been a little brighter I would have thought of taking a taxi up to your house and giving them to you. But I guess my nut was a little fogged for sleep.”
“Fine. That’s all right, my boy. You did a good job. I think you acted wisely. The Treasurer of the railroad, Mr. Anson, called me up himself about nine o’clock this morning and we got the bonds all right. Of course, you know there is a reward waiting for you down here amounting to $2,000. Come down and get it.”