The little man jumped up at that.
“Ah, yes!” he said. “I have just gotten a telegram. Have a chair.”
He thrust the telegram across the table towards Mooney, went around, and closed the door.
I could see Mooney smile as he read the telegram.
It was marked from Washington and advised the sheriff that an agent of the United States Secret Service would call on him some time this afternoon. It named this agent as Inspector Jarvis. It requested the sheriff to regard the communication as confidential in every respect, and to be governed by the wishes of the agent. It was signed by the Department of Justice.
This was a telegram that Mooney had written out on the train and which it was White’s business to send by cutting the wire.
It was possible, of course, that Mooney could have impersonated an agent of the Secret Service, but it was far safer to have this impersonation preceded by a telegram from Washington. Mooney believed that the average officer, in a small locality, would be absolutely convinced by such a telegram, and that it would not occur to him to verify it—which was, in fact, the case.
The procedure was precisely what this sheriff imagined the government would follow if it wished his assistance in any matter. It would send a telegram, directly to him, naming the agent and the time of his arrival.
When the man came back from closing the door, Mooney at once began his explanation.
He said that the government had information to the effect that a gang of train robbers, who had been operating through the country, intended to hold up the express that passed west over the line that night at 1:30. The holdup would be attempted at the coal tipple west of this town where the engine stopped. He said it was impossible to be certain about this information—such sources of information were necessarily not wholly reliable—nevertheless, there was fairly good reason to believe that such an attempt would be undertaken.