Timmick’s hand found the button and turned on the electric lights. Then he opened the door in the grating-guarded partition, beyond which was located the bank vault.
An odor like that of a burnt explosive pervaded the atmosphere of the place, and increased, if possible, the tingling excitement of the men who pressed after the cashier, eager to learn just what had happened. What they now beheld caused them to gasp with dismay.
A number of full sacks of grain had been placed on the floor in front of the bank vault. This grain had doubtless been brought in the sacks from the old feed mill, a quarter of a mile away; and the full sacks had been skilfully arranged in such a position that the outer door of the vault, blown from its hinges, had fallen upon them. A leather grip stood open upon the floor, and scattered about on all sides could be seen a full set of up-to-date burglar’s tools.
“Look,” cried Timmick, aghast, pointing with a trembling finger—“look at that, gentlemen! Oh, the scoundrels!”
Outside, the crowd, with noses pressed against the cold plate glass of the big front window, could see everything, and the sound of their agitated voices reached the ears of those within.
“The bank’s been robbed!” cried Stickney. “The critters must have done it in a hurry.”
“I don’t think it has been robbed,” said Lawyer Francis. “The inner door of the vault remains in place. The burglars were detected at their work before they could complete the job.”
“Let us hope,” said Lemuel Hayden grimly, “that you are right, sir.”
“Open that inside door, Timmick—open it!” spluttered Rufus Sprague. “Let’s find out if they got anything.”
But the cashier shook his head. “I think, gentlemen,” he said, “we had better wait until the president arrives. When I open that door I wish to do so in the presence of Mr. Eliot. At any rate, I think it would not be advisable to go ahead beneath the watching eyes of that crowd outside the window. Mr. Stickney, will you draw the shade?”