But they were all losers; some of them more so than others, and Joe Rich’s latest robbery bid fair to make times rather hard in Tumbling River. It was a privately owned bank, and they knew that Ludlow could not make good their losses.
William H. Cates took the first train out of town. The sheriff had hauled him out of the hearse and put him to bed. The following morning he was filled with remorse over it all, but strangely enough he was unable to tell just whom he had been with. He told the sheriff to do his little best and boarded a train for the north.
An examination of the vault disclosed the fact that the robber had taken every cent of money, but had not bothered with any papers. Warner refused even to make a guess at how much money was in the vault, but admitted that it was more than was usually carried. The bank remained closed.
Hashknife, Sleepy and Honey came back to town that forenoon, but the Heavenly Triplets did not show up. Merrick talked with Hashknife about the robbery. Hashknife was not interested to any great extent.
A little later on Hashknife was talking with Kelsey, when the depot agent came to Kelsey.
“Here’s a funny thing,” said the agent. “Remember the night the bridge caught fire?”
“Sure,” nodded Kelsey. “What about it?”
“That night,” resumed the agent, “the rear brakeman of the cattle-train went back to flag the passenger, and he’s never been seen since.”
“What do yuh mean?” Kelsey was evidently puzzled.
“Just what I said. I don’t know how he was passed up. The train was held here quite a while, but the storm was bad, and nobody needed him, I suppose. Down at the bridge both trains were stalled quite a while, and there was no need of whistling in the flag from the cattle-train.