The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1914-12-01
Copyrielats 1918. by
 kzeskexla prsselsafd

che strong room and found that over { $1O0sO00 in notes and bearer securffles were missing.
 communicated at once with the police, and they started to make fn- Quiries. The constable at RobergilIe replied that man answering to the description of Atterson was seen by a farmer walking along the stoneham road and heading north on sunday morning earIy's
 At this point a clerk knocked at the door and entering, brought in seme letters. Harris etifEened as he noticed the writing on one Of them. Be cut it open, and when the clerk was gone oue he read aloud:
 Dear Harris-I hereby resign my splen- did and lucrative positton h the Grand Banks of Canada. It 1s a doEss dirty fife Anyway 1t ia 90 for . man of sptrtts You can give the weeks screw that z owing 70 me to buy milk and bath buns for ths next meeting of directors Yours truly
 c. ,. PATTERSON
 ssWhat's the postnark r asked Joe.
 seRimouski. Sunday, 9:30 q. m.
 It looks like Atterzonss the thief, remarked Joe. seI'm inclined that way because Atterson had that letter post ed by z. .con-con-w what's the Word?1
 ''Confederate P
 You've got it. He was seen here in town on Sunday at 10s3o. and he couldn't have posted no letter in Rl- noush in time for the 9.8o a. 70. on Sunday unless he'd gone there on the o'clock express on Saturday evening. Yes, Atterson's the thief, all right And if that really was he they saw Gtoneham ways he's had time to get
 
 him, and he can go right on i'll hs'5 on the Labrador doubt youu geo your $1oO GOO again. dr. Harris
 s.Hm!'' coughed MT. Harris. directors won't want to pay you g a day for nothing.
 Two dollars q day F said Joe tn his gentle voice sT shouldn't 'a' thought the two hundred times hundred theu- sand dollars could stand strain hte fhatls'
 I laughed. Look here, lgoYeznbeE think I'd Ike to make this bargain for you ri sell your seEytees to 1Sr. Harris here for $5 a day if yoa Gail and 10 per cent of the sum you nac0V- CT if you succeed Well. Harxis. is E on or oR?'' I asked.
 etOh. on. suppose, con1ound Eou!e said Harris.
 Twenty hours lateR Joe, s police trooper named Hohsen and were deep in the woods. We had hardly paused to interview the farmer at RobervilIe and then had passed cn down the old deserted reads unt1l ss last we entered the foreat, or. as e g locally called. the @bush.
 Where are you heading foFF' ,Ef15- son had asked Joe.
 .-4.. s5l IA Atterson the farmer gstW I guess hs'H have gone up there. None of fbe1a trappers there now in July month. 60 he can steal a canoe easy. Beeidsa 2 man who fears pursuit alwRya l4lzes Q get Into a country he knows, and you heard MT. Harris say how iAtteHseu had ashed Red river two Yacatic Besldese-here Joe stopped end point ed to the ground-tttS ttSem's AtbeRscu,g tracks.'s he said ssIeasty avs, it's black fox to a lynx pelt they gre his.H
 ssRut you've never seen him What reason have youg'' demanded Hobson.
 .sWhen first we happened on them about four hours back, while you Was nghtin' your pipe. replied Joe. stheE come out of the bush. and when we reached near Gart1er's place they went back into the bush again. Then mile p65Gna CaEleES OuL or lfle uHsA they come on to the road again. What can that cfreumventin' mean9 Teller who made the tracks don't want to be seen No. 8 boots, city made nails in lem, rubber heels. Come on
 I will not attempt to describe our Journey hour by hour nor tell how November held to the trans following it over areas or hard ground and rock noticing a scratch here and broken t1vig there. The next morning Noyeu- Der wakened us at daylight and onee more we hastened forward.
 For some time we followed Alter sons footsteps and then found thek they left the road
 We moved on quietly and saw that not fifty yards ahead of us man was walking exeitedly up and down. His head was sunk upon his chest in an at- tttude Of the utmost despair, He waved his hands, and on the sttn air lhere came to us the sound Of his mo uotonous nuttering
 We crept upon him. As we did Gc Hobson leaped forward and. suappIpe his handcufs on the mans 1isfE cried:
 Cecil Atterson. Is~e kok year