# Walker of the Secret Service/Chapter 4
### IV. The Secret Agent

Mooney’s experience with the last holdup made him consider a plan more daring than any former adventure.
When the men came to examine the packages which Mooney had taken out of the safe on the through express and which White had so skillfully carried away through the trick of the exchanged suit case, they found that what they had taken to be money was, in fact, bonds of an industrial corporation, being shipped by sealed express.
This was a profound disappointment.
The bonds could not be negotiated, for they were registered. Mooney thought he might be able to obtain some reward, and I think he did take the matter up with a “fence” in one of the eastern cities.
The result of this ill fortune was that he determined on some plan by which he would be able, at his leisure, to examine the sealed express before taking it out of the car, for Mooney had always hated having to hurry away without sorting the loot. And, with this intention as a moving factor, he formulated a holdup so daring that it would never have occurred to a person of less determined assurance.
I have thought it advisable not to set out here the name of the town, as it would serve to identify persons who ought not to be held responsible for the fact that they were taken in by Mooney’s ingenious plan.
We had resorted to no sort of disguise, except that both Mooney and White were very well dressed. White had with him a small telegraphic instrument in a paper box, and Mooney had one of those strapped leather bags that are sometimes carried by physicians. Mooney and I went on into the town, but White left the train some distance east of that point.
It was about six o’clock when Mooney and I arrived. We went directly from the railroad station to the sheriff’s office, in the basement of the courthouse. Black letters painted on the window indicated it.
Mooney and I went down into the basement of the building, entered this office, and inquired for the sheriff. A girl was making out some tax receipts at a long wooden table. She said the sheriff was in the other room, got up, opened the door, and we entered.
The sheriff was a little red-haired man. He looked up as we came in, and turned over quickly a telegram which he had, apparently, just opened and which was lying on the table before him.
Mooney at once addressed him.
“My name is Jarvis,” he said, “of the United. States Secret Service. I suppose the Department has advised you that I would be in here this evening.”
The little man jumped up at that.
“Ah, yes!” he said. “I have just gotten a telegram. Have a chair.”
He thrust the telegram across the table towards Mooney, went around, and closed the door.
I could see Mooney smile as he read the telegram.
It was marked from Washington and advised the sheriff that an agent of the United States Secret Service would call on him some time this afternoon. It named this agent as Inspector Jarvis. It requested the sheriff to regard the communication as confidential in every respect, and to be governed by the wishes of the agent. It was signed by the Department of Justice.
This was a telegram that Mooney had written out on the train and which it was White’s business to send by cutting the wire.
It was possible, of course, that Mooney could have impersonated an agent of the Secret Service, but it was far safer to have this impersonation preceded by a telegram from Washington. Mooney believed that the average officer, in a small locality, would be absolutely convinced by such a telegram, and that it would not occur to him to verify it—which was, in fact, the case.
The procedure was precisely what this sheriff imagined the government would follow if it wished his assistance in any matter. It would send a telegram, directly to him, naming the agent and the time of his arrival.
When the man came back from closing the door, Mooney at once began his explanation.
He said that the government had information to the effect that a gang of train robbers, who had been operating through the country, intended to hold up the express that passed west over the line that night at 1:30. The holdup would be attempted at the coal tipple west of this town where the engine stopped. He said it was impossible to be certain about this information—such sources of information were necessarily not wholly reliable—nevertheless, there was fairly good reason to believe that such an attempt would be undertaken.
He said that the Department was extremely anxious to round up these bandits who had so far eluded capture. A plan had been determined on, which he wished to carry out with the aid of the sheriff.
He then explained what he intended to do.
He said that the point of attack by the train robbers would be the express car. He did not wish the sheriff, or any posse, to take part in the effort to capture these outlaws; untrained men in an undertaking of this kind would be of little use. The employment of such persons usually resulted in someone being killed.
He would have two Secret Service men—he indicated me, and added that the other would arrive on the midnight express; the train to be held up.
He wanted the sheriff to come with him to the train.
He wished the conductor and the train officials to be impressed with the fact that the Department of Justice was very anxious to effect the capture of the men who might undertake to hold up the train at the coal tipple, and to realize the necessity of following, precisely, the directions which the Secret Service had outlined for this undertaking.
He said he would be glad if the sheriff would take charge of the express messenger and hold his force, in reserve, to come to the assistance of the Secret Service men if it should be necessary. He said it might happen that the Department’s information was incorrect, or it might happen that for some reason the highwaymen would not undertake to hold up the express on this night. In which event it was of the utmost importance for every move in this affair to be kept absolutely secret. If it were told, or found its way into the newspapers, the gang of outlaws would discover the plan which the Department of Justice had undertaken for their capture.
It was now about seven o’clock.
Mooney said he would go over to the hotel, get supper, and sleep until the train came in. He would depend upon the sheriff to call at the hotel for him about half an hour before the arrival of the train.
That is the substance of Mooney’s conversation with the sheriff.
He had assumed a decided, rather abrupt manner, as of one accustomed to being obeyed, and whose orders were to the point and accurate. The sheriff promised to carry out his directions precisely, as he wished, and we left his office and went over to the hotel.
We had supper and afterwards went up to our room. I was outwardly calm enough, I suppose, but inside of me every nerve was on edge. There were two beds in the room. Mooney advised me to go to sleep, as we would certainly be up all night.
To me sleep was out of the question.
But my extraordinary companion lay down on the bed and in a very short time was asleep; he continued to sleep up to the moment at which the sheriff knocked on the door.
I sat by the window for a long time and looked out at the little town and the hills beyond it until the night descended; then I lay down on one of the beds. But I did not sleep.
I had not understood the plan upon which Mooney had determined. I had seen him writing something on the train which he gave to White, and I knew that White had a telegraphic instrument, but I did not know the other details. The opening of this adventure was now becoming clear to me. But what further plan Mooney expected to carry out, I could not imagine.
The sheriff came for us at about half-past eleven, and we went over to the railroad station. The man was very mysterious. The gravity of the matter in which he had been asked to take part greatly affected the sheriff. He felt the weight of responsibility and his importance. The government had called upon him to assist it in one of those secret undertakings about which he had always conjectured, and now, at the opening of this adventure, he could not wholly conceal his concern.
It was only a short distance to the station; nevertheless, the sheriff had brought a hack, with a negro driver, to convey us.
When the train pulled in, the sheriff went at once to find the conductor. A moment later an extraordinary conference took place. The sheriff introduced Mooney to the conductor and showed his telegram from the Department of Justice.
Mooney did not give the conductor opportunity to think very much about the matter.
He said it was important for the endeavor to be kept as secret as possible, as it might fail, and the government might wish to attempt it in some other direction. He explained to the conductor as he had explained to the sheriff, that the Secret Service was not entirely certain about its information, and that the undertaking was in a certain sense precautionary; nevertheless, nothing must be neglected that might insure its success.
He pointed out that the fewest possible persons ought to be permitted to know anything about it; that the train should go on, precisely on its schedule; that nothing must be done to give any official an idea of what was in hand; and, of course, no passengers on the train must have any information as to what was about to take place. The stop at this station was one of the briefest, and Mooney hurried everybody into the train.
White, who had come on this train, now joined us, and Mooney explained to the conductor what course he wished to pursue. The plan of the Department was to effect the capture of the men who would undertake to hold up the train at the coal tipple. He pointed out that these bandits would enter the express car, as it was the sealed express against which their endeavor would be directed. He said that he, and his two men, would take charge of the express car, that the express agent should go to the rear of the train and act with the sheriff as a reserve force. In this difficult matter he preferred to have with him only the trained Secret Service men, who were accustomed to things of this sort. He said the express agent, or untrained persons, would be of no benefit to him; they, in fact, constituted a menace.
When the train moved out of the station the whole party went forward to the express car.
The sheriff and conductor explained the matter to the express agent, and introduced Mooney. Strange as it may seem, the express agent was less astonished than any of the others had been. He was aware of the holdups that had taken place throughout the country and he was, in fact, expecting something of the sort to happen. He had a short riot pump gun lying on the top of the safe and a big Colt revolver in his pocket.
Mooney here took charge of the matter without any further consultation with anybody. He told the express agent to go to the rear of the train with the sheriff. They were not to do anything unless they received a signal from Mooney.
This was the plan and it was immediately put into effect by Mooney.
But before the express agent left the car Mooney told him that he wanted to place a package of marked bills in the safe. It might happen, by some accident, that the bandits attacking the train would get the best of it. In such event the package of marked bills would serve in tracking them down. He said this precaution had been determined upon by the Department in all cases.
He produced an envelope—a brown manila envelope—sealed, and stamped with red wax, and handed it to the express agent. The agent squatted down by the safe, opened it quickly, and put the envelope in among the other packages; then he closed the safe and locked it.
This device gave Mooney the combination to the safe.
He was standing close beside the express agent, stooping over with the envelope in his hand, so that it could be placed in the safe when the door was open, and he was therefore able to observe precisely what turns were made on the dial. For one with the skill of this extraordinary man, a glance was enough. When the express agent had swung the door back, Mooney knew every detail of the combination precisely.
The man now left the car.
Mooney fastened the door and proceeded at his leisure. He had explained to the sheriff that the small black leather bag which he carried contained handcuffs and weapons for his men. But it in fact contained a variety of quite different articles.
He now opened it and sat down before the safe.
The bag contained drills which Mooney had intended to use if the safe proved to be equipped with a modern time lock; as it was, these implements were not required. It also held a plumber’s candle, a tube of liquid glue, and a bundle of newspapers.
He opened the safe without any difficulty whatever, for he had the combination directly from the express agent.
Inside of the safe were a number of sealed packages in large envelopes. These envelopes were not only sealed with the gummed-down flap, but they were also sealed with wax. Mooney removed all of them. He lighted the plumber’s candle and very carefully held the wax seals close to the flame until they were soft enough for him to slip a knife blade under them.
When the wax seals on the packages were all thus softened and lifted up without being broken, he opened the envelopes by rolling the point of a pencil carefully along under the flap. There were quite a number of these envelopes, all consigned to one bank and, while they all contained new currency, the men were astonished to discover that this currency was in small bills.
The whole of it was in one- and two-dollar bills. There was not a bill of any larger denomination in the whole consignment.
It was possible, of course, if these men were acting on information, that the persons forwarding that information to them knew this train would carry a consignment of money but did not know the value of that consignment. They may have estimated the value of it by its bulk.
From the big stack of sealed envelopes, we all imagined that we had now made the great haul always expected. But, while the volume of currency was large, the actual value was in fact small; not, at the farthest, above a thousand or fifteen hundred dollars.
Mooney cursed as the denominations of these bills continued to appear in the packages. But there was nothing to do but go ahead. And he carried it out, in every detail, precisely as he had planned it. He removed the money from the envelopes, and packed it into his bag. Then he filled the envelopes with newspaper until they appeared to be the same bulk.
He had not enough newspaper for all the packages and we looked about the car for anything we could find for the purpose.
When the envelopes were filled with paper so they resembled, in bulk, their former appearance, Mooney gummed down the flaps and pasted down the sealing-wax seals. The packages were now all precisely in appearance as they had been when they were taken out of the safe. The seals were not broken because they had been thoroughly softened by the heat of the plumber’s candle before they had been removed, and so were easily gummed back into position.
This was all carefully done. No one could have told that the packages had been in any sense tampered with. Mooney had noted the exact position they occupied in the safe, and he returned them precisely to this position. The envelope, which he had given the express agent to put in with them, he also restored to the position it had occupied when the agent thrust it in. He had plenty of leisure to carry this out unhurriedly. It had all been accomplished by the time the train arrived at the coal tipple.
Mooney closed the safe. The train stopped to take coal and went on.
The sheriff, the nervous conductor, and the armed express agent waited in vain for the signal to bring them forward into a desperate encounter with outlaws.
When the train pulled out Mooney opened the door to the express car and sent me back for the conductor and his associates.
They came immediately and Mooney acted out the last scene in his comedy.
He told the men that the Department’s information about the holdup at this tipple had been probably intended as misleading. One never knew whether one had precisely any criminal plan. This information may have been given out to the Department with the primary intention of leading it to look for the train robbers at a point distant from that at which they were intending to put their criminal operations into effect.
He directed everybody, by order of the Department of Justice, to say nothing about this matter. All were warned, under no circumstances, to say anything about it, no matter if there should be an investigation on account of the robbery having taken place at some other point. The United States Secret Service had put into effect here, on this train, a plan upon which it was accustomed to depend, and this plan must not become public.
The man’s nerve and assurance were without limit.
When he had finished, he requested the express agent to return to him the dummy package of marked bills which he had given him to put into the safe. Any one else in the world would have hesitated to have the safe opened, and would either have removed the dummy envelope when he took out the packages of money, or would have left it; but not Mooney. He had set out to do every detail in this undertaking with precision and order, and he did not intend to leave any item unaccomplished.
The express agent opened the safe, took out the envelope, gave it to him, and locked the safe again. And at the next station we shook hands with everybody and got down.
We took a through train east, having carried out what I felt at the time, and what I now feel, to have been a criminal adventure of unequaled assurance. So successful was it that we never heard anything more about it. Nothing concerning it was ever published or made known so far as I have been able to find out.
The robbery, of course, appeared when the packages of currency were delivered at the bank. But nobody knew at what place this robbery had been accomplished; whether it was done at the point of shipment, some place along the line, or where the packages were delivered to the banks.
It was likely that neither the sheriff nor any of the train officials ever said anything about the government agent who took charge of the express car on that night. There was no reason for them to give any information.
Was it not the work of the United States Secret Service? And had they not been warned to silence?