"Bring him by all means," said Ralston. "If he helps us out tonight, I'll see that he gets anything he wants in San Francisco."
He was boyishly eager; full of excited plans for his daring scheme. The two men left him chuckling as he bit the end off a fresh cigar.
It was nearly nine o'clock when they left the Bank of California. Theater-going crowds were housed at the play; the streets were extraordinarily silent as the quintet made their way toward the Mint. Robert was breathing hard. The dark streets, the mysterious Empire ahead, the hint of danger and a mighty stake distilled a toxic and exhilarating fever in his blood. As the pillared front of the federal treasure house loomed up before them, Ralston made a sign for them to halt, advancing cautiously. With astonishment they saw him pass through the usually guarded door and disappear. Presently he emerged with two sacks.
"Robert and Benito, take these to the bank," he whispered. "The watchmen there will give you the equivalent in gold bars to bring back." He turned to Harpending and Dore. "I'll have yours ready in a minute." Once more he vanished within.
Robert picked up the bag allotted to him. It was very heavy. As he lifted it to his shoulder, the contents clinked.
"Gold coin," said his father, significantly.
"What if we're caught?" asked the boy, half fearfully. Ralston, reappearing, heard the question.
"You won't be," he said. "I've attended to that."
His assurance proved correct. All night the four men toiled between the Mint and the Bank of California sweating, puffing, fatigued to the brink of exhaustion. With the first streak of dawn, Ralston dismissed them.