No Moss; Or, The Career of a Rolling Stone

by Harry Castlemon

The customer was a long time making up his mind which he wanted. He looked first at the clay pipes, then at the meerschaums, weighed several of the latter in his hand, and finally he pulled out his pocket-book. Then it took him some time longer to find a five cent piece; and when he had paid for one of the clay pipes he rested his hands on the counter, and looked up at the articles on the shelves, as if wondering if he did not want something else. Johnny waited patiently for him to come to some conclusion on this point, and, at the same time, kept close watch of the other customer, whose movements were somewhat singular. He first produced a pipe from the pocket of his pea-jacket, and, walking around the end of the counter to the match-box, prepared to indulge in a smoke. Johnny, out of the corner of his eye, saw that, while he was filling his pipe, his gaze wandered up the space behind the counter, until it rested on the safe, which he regarded long and earnestly. If Johnny could have read the thoughts that were passing through his mind, they might have caused him some uneasiness; but, believing that the man had found an object of curiosity in the strong box, he felt disposed to laugh at him.

"Where could he have passed all his life, anyhow?" thought the clerk. "He never saw a fire-proof safe before. What would he say, I wonder, if he could look at the combination lock inside, that can't be opened, even by a man who understands it, in less than ten minutes!"

After burning half a dozen matches, the customer got his pipe lighted to his satisfaction, and began walking about the store again. He glanced into the little office where Johnny slept, went to the front door and gazed up and down the street, thence to the side door, which he opened, and looked out into the passage-way that ran between the store and Mr. Newcombe's elevator, and finally he examined the shutters that Johnny had just put up. Having completed the rounds of the store, he began to whistle, whereupon the man at the counter picked up his pocket-book and followed his companion, who walked out on the wharf.

"Does any body suppose they ever saw a grocery-store before?" said Johnny, to himself, as he stood in the door and watched his customers until they disappeared in the darkness. "I've seen some green men in my time, but these carry off the palm. The one that bought the pipe is not a sailor, for, if he was, he would not have been so particular. He would have taken whatever was offered him, and paid double its value, if I had seen fit to demand it, and without a moment's hesitation. They are hard-looking fellows, anyhow."

Having thus expressed his opinion of his customers, Johnny struck up a cheerful whistle, and resumed the work of putting up the shutters. When this had been done, he locked the door, and put out all the lamps except one, which he carried into his bed-room, and sat down to read until he should become sleepy. The book was so interesting that Johnny forgot that he had worked hard all day and was very sleepy, and it was half-past ten o'clock before he knew it. Finding that his eye-lids were growing heavy, he went the rounds of the store once more, tried all the doors and windows, to make sure that he had fastened them securely, and then tumbled into bed. He always slept the sleep of the healthy, and, on this particular evening, he slept so soundly that he did not hear what was going on at the side door, which opened into the passage-way. About midnight, however, he awoke with a start, and with a presentment that there was something wrong. He was not mistaken, for when his eyes were fairly open, he found that his bed-room was flooded with light. He was not alone, either; there were two persons in his room who had no business there. One was standing in the door-way, holding a sledge-hammer and an iron punch in one hand, and a short piece of rope in the other; and the one who stood at the head of his bed carried something the clerk did not like the looks of—a revolver, the muzzle of which was pointed straight at his head. A single glance was enough to establish the identity of these unwelcome visitors. They were his customers of the previous evening.

"What are you doing in here?" exclaimed Johnny, starting up on his elbow. "Get out o' this!"

"Silence!" whispered the man with the revolver, seizing Johnny by the shoulder and placing the muzzle of the weapon against his forehead. "If you utter another word you are a dead man."

The bare thought of being awakened out of a sound sleep, to find a couple of burglars in one's bed-room, is enough to send a thrill through the strongest nerves; and Johnny, although he was far from being a coward, was thoroughly frightened. He knew, however, that he was in no danger of bodily harm as long as he obeyed the robbers' injunction and kept quiet. They were not there to injure him—they were after the seven thousand dollars in the safe; and Johnny was powerless to prevent them from taking it.

"Come in here and tie him, Ned," said the man with the revolver.

Ned, after depositing his hammer and punch on the floor, advanced into the room, and almost before Johnny could tell what had happened to him, he was lying on his face in the bed, with his arms fastened behind his back, his feet tied to the bed-post, and a towel bound tightly over his mouth.