Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1862-12-11

IL lOOSely DuC tne DOICOll, sues anu all
parts of it save the iron door, were com
posed of thick granite, perfectly cemented,
and had never been disturbed since being
put together.
My inspection of the house was now COM
pleted, but without gaining the slightest
clue to the mystery of the robberies. l
could discover no place where any one
could have entered, and there was Gel tain
ly no one concealed in the house. | ques-
toned the miser as to who had visited him;
but he positively declared that, myself ex-
cepted, was the only one he had permit
ted to cross his threshold, since taking up
his solitary abode there. was at stand.
| knew not what to suggest. Had but one
bag been missing, or had he only been rob-
bed once, the matter would have seemed
susceptible of some rational solution, but
to be robbed FIVE several times at irregular
intervals, and the thief to be SO forbearing
as to take only comparatively small por-
tion at each time and then withal leave no
trace save the loss, of his having been there
this it was that puzzled and perplexed
me exceedingly. l finally went away, at
late hour, promising to give the matter my
serious consideration, and the old man
agreeing to communicate with me imme-
dlately ON the occurrence OF anything new.
In few days the miser was robbed
again, and in spite of all that could do he
continued to be robbed, at longer or short
er period. for several months, until, in fact,
only ten bags of gold remained. By this
time he was wasted almost to skeleton
through grief at his loss, and had become
so nervous and superstitious that | looked
to see ghost every time | visited the
dwelling. What could it mean? l had
spent days and nights in the house-had
arranged matters so that could come and
go as pleased, at all hours, secretly and
openly-and yet, though l had used this
freedom, and had been an almost constant
spy upon the premises, | had failed to de-
tect the slightest clue to the thief. Surely
it could not be the work of human hands
and the thought of the supernatural made
my blood run cold.
One night | retired to bed, terribly per-
picked with this mystery and after rolling
and tossing about for long time, l fell
asleep, and dreamed l was in the misers
house, on the watch, and that l saw him
get up, go to his safe, unlock it, take out
bag Of gold, drop it in the WELL relock his
safe and return to his bed
"That is it !" l cried, leaping out upon
the floor, have it now The wretched
man is sleep-walker, and had all along
been robbing himself! Why have l not
thought Of this before ?"
| dressed in haste and set off. night
though it was, to ascertain the truth of my
new conjecture. | reached the gloomy
house, went in, and found the miser was
not in bed hurried down stairs, and by
the light of my lantern, beheld him stretch
ed out upon the ground near the we'll, with
bag of gold in his hand. spoke to him,
but he did not answer. touched him, but
no did not stir stopped down, took hold
Of his wrist, felt of his pulse, and started
up in horror.
He uas dead! He had died in the act of
robbing himself!
The mystery was solved, my dream had
revealed the truth, and the missing bags of
gold were all found at the bottom of the
we'll The whole was taken possession of
by the authorities, and | received my just
due for services rendered.