The fact that the cashier and his family lived on the floor above this bank made it a rather ticklish undertaking.
There was, however, no vault to enter, and the safe was such a ramshackle affair that the men felt sure they could open it without the use of a charge of powder. So we decided to make the attempt.
As Tom Smith had sprained his wrist in escaping from a Pennsylvania sheriff a few nights before he was to remain on guard outside the bank, while I entered with Dan and George and rendered what assistance I could in opening the safe. This was the first time I had ever been on the "inside" of a bank burglary and I was quite puffed up with my own importance.
Dan opened one of the bank windows with his jimmy and held his hands for me to step on as I drew myself up over the high sill. Then he handed the tools to me and he and George climbed up.
The bank in which we found ourselves was one large room. A door led into it from the broad porch which extended along the front of the building. At the rear was another door opening into a long passageway, at the end of which was a staircase leading to the cashier's apartments overhead.
While the two men were looking the safe over I unlocked the front door to provide an avenue of escape in case we should have to beat a hasty retreat.
I also opened the door at the rear and peered into the darkness of the passageway. There was no sign of life—no sound except the heavy breathing of the sleeping cashier and his family in the rooms above. I closed the door gently for fear the rasping of the drills on the metal of the safe would be heard.
Just then my quick ears caught the sound of some one in the passageway. I tiptoed over to the door and pressed my ear against it.
I had barely time to draw away from the door before it opened wide and I stood speechless with amazement at the apparition I saw standing there within an arm's length of me.
