“Then one or more of the bills it contained must have been marked, for that is a precaution I never knew the treasurer to neglect.”
A dispatch sent to the general office of the company, informing the treasurer of the robbery and asking if any of the bills in that package could be identified, set his clerks to examining a certain little memorandum-book.
In a very short time a reply reached Mountain Junction. Yes, in package number so and so, containing one thousand dollars, sent to the division superintendent on such a date, one fifty-dollar bill was privately marked in the manner usual with the treasurer.
On the following day the division superintendent spent several hours in the only bank of Mountain Junction, where he and the cashier closely examined every fifty-dollar bill among its deposits, but none bearing the private mark of the treasurer of the railroad company was to be found. Just as they had satisfied themselves of this the proprietor of the principal hotel came in to make his weekly deposit of funds, which he always did on Saturday.
After he had gone the cashier returned to the private office in which the superintendent still sat.
“Here are two more fifties that have just come in,” he said. “Perhaps you had better look at them.”
The first one was not marked, but the second! Yes, it bore the fatal sign, a tiny red cross made in a spot where it would never be detected unless a person knew just where to look for it.
“Then you’ve struck the trail at last?” said the cashier.
“Yes, and I’ll follow it up close while it is fresh,” answered the superintendent. “What a bit of luck it is that this very bill should be passed right here in town. Why, we’ll have the thief locked up inside of three days.”