Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1897-04-01

L felt sick, not with fear, but appre-
hension. | dashed back towards the
bullion van. The door of that vehickle
was unfastened, but had swung to. l
put my shoulder against it, and almost
stumbled into the travelling bank.
THE bright light Of the roof lamp
revealed strange sight.
I'm an easy chair in the curtained
ante-rOOm the tallest of the bank clerks
was sitting with his head upon his
chest, and one Of Zolo's novels open on
his knees. He looked as if he were
induiging in a comfortable after-dinner
nap, with healthy indifference to the
financial crisis in the East. But this
was an illusion. He was dead! and
there was the odor Of chlor0fOrm about
him.
Beyond the curtain there was the
sound Of deep breathing, cursing and
struggling | lifted the drapery that
concealed he bullion chests. The Win
dow in the far coroer of the van was
open. Beneath it in the deep shadow
were two struggling figures.
One was the passenger who had ar
rived nearly too late for the train. He
was lying on his back on the van floor
writing, his teeth set, and murder in
his eyes. The duel scar on his cheek
had been laid open by a blow, and the
blood Welled down his face till it was
hide us to look upon. He strained
like a wild beast, and cursed like a
fien,i; but he was in vice The fingers
Of his right hand worked convulsiveiy
to touch the life-preserver that was al
most but not quite within reach.
Charley Napier, the clerk-the fair
haired one-had got his sinewy arms
round the foreign thief and was press
ing the life out Of him.
It's rather warm work, driver? he
said, turning his head, and looking at
me Whimsically.
Yes [ replied, with a thrill of joy,
noting that the gold was untouched.
You seem busy. Shall [ give you
little help?'
"'Thank you, perhaps you don't
lIliI1SI AlOAblItS ClI1O pChUIICI ILL SCl up.
with pleasure, l said, bending
down, selling the man by the collar and
vest, and hauling him to his feet.
THE foreigner shook himself, but
held his tongue. He looked not unlike
a panther as with bent head and side
long glance Ut hate, and adroit striv-
ings he tried to rush his prison house;
but | nave a very strong grip
." I'm afraid he's done for my col
league said Charley, wiping the per
spiration off MS brow.
Yes; he's dead enough. The beg
CARS nearly finished the guard too.
Poor Clayton's lying III the luggage van
with a Lice hole in his forehead, [
growled, giving my prisoner a savage
shake and feeling inclined 20 thrash
him.
Many of the passengers alarmed
or curious at the unusual stoppagC Of
the express on this lonely stretch OF
line had quilted the carriages and were
crowding about the bullion van. One,
dry, methodical, middle-aged gentle
man, declared himself to be a medical
man. [ invited him into the coach, and
one look at the recumbent figure of the
tall bank clerk showed that he was be-
yOnd human aid.
Still grasping my prisoner, [ asked
the doctor to hurry into the luggage
van and do what he could for the
guard In a few minutes Clayton was
lifted into the bullion van by two pas
sengers, and placed on the little couch.
The doctor, who fortunately carried a
case of surgical appliances, deXterously
salved the wound and bound up his
forehead with lint. The guard was still
somewhat dazed with the blow; but he
looked vindictive at his assailart, and
| thought it policy to relieve him of his
revolver lest he might rob the hang
man of a lucrative appointment.
Events had moved so rapidly that
quarter of an hour had slipped by, In
stead of losing one minute, l had lost
sixteen, and though 9ratified that the
foreigners crime has been futile, that
he had failed to get away with the
specie, l was sharply reminded of nI:'
duty. l was an engine driver-nOt
detective. If possible, [ must get the
train to the port on time. l asked the
medical man to urge the passengers to
take their seats at once, and sent a
message to George, the fireman, to give
the engine her head, and make up all
the time we could. AS the train re-
started, l locked the door Of the bull
lion van, and covering my prisoner
with the guards revolver, ordered him
to lie on the floor, telling him that if
he moved | would shoot him dead.
The curtain dividing the bullion van
into compartments had been thrust
aside l stood sentinel at the door;
Napier at the window. l thought, as
the light and shadow played about the
vehicle, that in all the romance of rail-
way travel, no express had ever carried
such a strange dramatic group, the now
rigid figure of the lifeless bank clerk,
the wounded guard with the quiet doc
tor by his side, Napier complacently
twirling the end of his mustache after
his encounter, and myself standing
like a backwoodsman on the watch for
an overt attempt to escape by the
scOwling creature at my feet!
George did his best. With his fire
banked up and all steam on, he made
the express fly through the night, and
we pulled ZIP only ten minutes late at