“The—express wagon. Had money—for the bank—that came in—on No. 5.”
“The cobbled road?”
“Yes, sir.” The boy’s breath was easier. “In that hollow behind the cottonwoods that you can’t see from Main street. Captain Tucker was in the wagon with the driver. When they got into the hollow there was a man lying in a pool of blood. They jumped out, and it was only a stuffed figure, and the blood was red paint. Somebody they couldn’t see said to put up their hands, and Captain Tucker started to spin around and a shot knocked off his cap.”
“And after that he kept his hands up?”
“Yes, sir. Next thing a bag was over his head and one over the driver’s, and they were tied up and chucked into the truck. By and by somebody found them and the money was gone.”
“Much?”
“Twenty-two thousand dollars. They’re looking for that shabby car.”
“I don’t think they’ll have to look far,” Dr. Stone said grimly. “Lady, forward.” Again the rapid pace that ate up distance. “What time did the hold-up happen, Joe?”
“Twenty of twelve.”
“Twenty—You’re positive of that?”