“Well, it’s hard to say. Naturally I’m hopeful, and when I hear of a queerly acting man, in a lonely fishing hamlet, who is spending a lot of money, it makes me think it might be Witherby. Of course, it may not be, but I’ve got to make sure. I’ll let you know by wire as soon as anything developes.”
In order to lose no time, Larry telephoned to his mother that he had to go out of town, and would not be back for several days perhaps. Then, having sent a boy up to get a few of his clothes in a valise, while Larry himself arranged about buying a ticket to Seven Mile Beach, the young reporter was ready to start.
He had a last talk with the bank president, telling him of the new developments.
“I’m sure I hope something comes of this!” exclaimed Mr. Bentfield. “Things will come to a crisis soon, if we don’t find the thief. All our employees are uneasy, from being virtually under suspicion, and I don’t know how long I can keep up the innocent, little deception about Witherby being away on business. They will soon suspect that he had fled, and that he is the one who took the million.”
“And yet, with all that, he may be innocent,” said Larry, “though I don’t believe it.”
“Certainly he is the only one, in all the bank, on whom such strong suspicion has fallen,” declared the president. “And, though the officers are still keeping a careful watch, not one of the other clerks shown any guilty uneasiness, nor has any one of them shown a disposition to go away, unannounced.”
“If any one does flee, I had better be notified,” suggested Larry. “You can send a telegram in care of Bert Bailey.”
It was a long, and not very pleasant, ride to Seven Mile Beach. Most of it had to be made after dark, and Larry dozed fitfully in his seat, half thinking and half dreaming, of the bank mystery on which he had worked so faithfully.
The car was almost deserted, for there was not much travel at this time of night. It was close to twelve o’clock, and Larry knew that he must be near his destination. He dozed off, and awoke suddenly, to hear a dash of rain against the window. Almost at the same moment the train came to a sudden stop.
“Something’s wrong!” exclaimed Larry, sitting up. He had traveled enough to know that the application of the air brakes with such force did not mean an ordinary stop. And, peering out into the darkness, as best he could, he could see no sign of a station.