Askov American. [volume] (Askov, Pine County, Minn.) 1914-current, 1915-07-15

a
at fuii length on roomy davenport.
1t was after midnight when he stirred
Tor the first time, stretched languidly,
and opened his eyes. In a moment he
realized that he was In his own rooms,
and the discomfort of having slept in
his clothes became apparent.
A soft-chiming clock in the next
room sounded in unison with the door
bell
The door-bell rang again. Poe lis
tened for his man to answer. but there
was not step to be heard in reply.
Couldn't be anybody but night
Waterman at this hour--or-Burns.
exclaimed the banker, Strengthening
his rumpled clothes and stepping into
the hall. With anticipatory eagerness
he flung wide the apartment door,
Hello, Burns!" he cried. Guessed
1t was you. But you ought to be
home in bed"
mo. No. / had enough sleep. /
can't drug myself with it as you do.
l was at the Office by three this after
noon.' Burns hurried in, slammed the
door behind him, looked about anx-
iously to make sure that Poe was
alone. glanced at his friends clothes,
and smiled
"You have been sleeping since l
left?" he queried.
Every minute!" exclaimed Poe.
"And I feel like a boy Though l
would like to pull these things off and
get into Something darant.
Keep 'em on, keep 'em on" said
Burns, dropping into loungy leath-
ern chair and exhaling a long, pent-
up breath.
Poe stood tall and straight by com
parison to his friend punched in the
chair, though he was little below av-
erage height. Stepping to switch in
the wall, he turned on light which
illumined Burns face.
Something new In the bad-money
iine?" he asked, as Burns pulled
forth his right hand, which had been
thrust deep in his pocket, and threw
open his clenched fingers, displaying
three gold coins on his moist palm.
They're badly worn," observed
Poe
IT'S Uncle Sans own money this
time" answered Burns. You're right.
they're worn. And look at the date!"
Poe picked up the double eagle
which lay between two single ones,
and whistled his surprise as he read
the date. 1913"
Worst of it is continued Burns,
''they stuck our own bank on them.
Every branch uptown had been TAX
ing them for a week or two" A
worried look came into his face; he
leaned forward anxiousiy, looking at
the coins. Il can't make head nor tail
out of this thing"
Head and tail seem to be about the
same" replied Christopher Poe, weigh
ing the coin on his finger tips, sensi-
tive through years of actual money
handling in bank-tellers' cages, and
still kept in practice by his avocation
of solving crimes against banks.
Feels like the vintage of ~, and
yet dated this year." he continued.
"They must have used an entirely new
process in sweating. 1t can't be acid;
the edges are never worn this thin,
and the letters would be sharper.
You see that it is quite smoothed
down, particularly at the centsrs."
Eyes. know. had an idea or two
on the thing myself, but I'sn all balled
up on it," agreed Burns. They're all
this years coins tina. have been tam
pered with, and they're worn as con-
sistently smooth as that ten-dollar
gold piece you read about, with which
the fellow paid back what he had Dor
rowed from his friend, and the friend
paid his tailor, the tailor paid the coin
to the doctor, the doctor gave it to the
grocer and the grocer"
by the way" cut in Poe, netting
another of the reduced coins on his
sensitive finger tips, didn't lot OF
this light stuff come in through the
grocers?'
Why. yes" cried Burns. How'd
YOU know that? Confound 1t! |
worked all evening getting information
m that. / knew Id never be able to
handle this alone"
Good, The minute you said up
town I thought of the grocers in that
particular part of Manhattan island.
There's a reason. You'll know why
later"
Christopher Poe smiled dreamily;
his violet eyes. usually vivid, became
vague, and he absently picked up
granite paper weight, placed one OF
tne gold coins fat on its face against
the stone, and rubbed it back and forth
for two or three minutes musiagly. At
length he turned to Burns, who sat
with fingers knit contemplatively, his
gaze fixed on the paper weight and
coin in Christopher Poe's fingers.
There's been nobody at all sweat
ing coins since that Denver gang was
caught three years ago, has there!
Poe asked.
No. | can't remember even any
small sweating being reported"
christopher Poe smiled broadly, the
corners OF his lips joining his nostriis
in deep wrinkles, as they invariably
did when he was lost in thought
New York is such silly place Tor