He was provided with a broom, and in the morning swept the bank. Sometimes he washed the windows; at other times he sat on a bench in the rear of the bank, ready for any call upon his services.
Several days passed, and though Luke kept a sharp lookout for the Fox brothers he did not catch a glimpse of anyone who resembled them.
Then one morning Luke went to the bank as usual and put on his Quaker garb.
About eleven o’clock an elderly man appeared, and presented a check for five hundred dollars. The money was paid him, and then he lingered a moment, ill at ease.
“I don’t like to have so much money about me,” he said in a tone that betrayed anxiety.
“No doubt you will find plenty who would be willing to relieve you of it,” rejoined the paying teller, with a smile.
“That’s what I am afraid of. They do say that the Fox brothers have been seen not far away.”
“Is it absolutely necessary that you should have the money in your possession? You could leave it in the bank, or most of it.”
“I shall want to use some of it to-morrow, and I live ten miles away—in Claremont.”
“How are you going back?”