Clancy took one of the bags, and the three walked out of the bank, fading away into the night like ill-omened wraiths.
It was six o’clock the following morning when a patrolman heard a groan coming from the alleyway in the rear of the bank.
Stepping in to investigate, he was horrified to find the outside watchman weltering in a pool of blood.
The wounded man was barely able to speak. He told, gaspingly, of the ill luck that had befallen him, and added that he believed the bank had been robbed.
Running to the nearest patrol box, the officer summoned an ambulance, after which he hurried to the bank.
He found and released the inside watchman, heard his story, and immediately got in some lively work with the telephone.
The chief of police was notified and also the president of the bank.
The latter, in turn, called up the cashier and as many of the directors as he could reach by phone.
By eight o’clock there was a gathering of police and bank officials about the wrecked doors of the plundered vault, the cashier and an assistant being inside checking up.
At eight-thirty the cashier came out of the vault with a white face.