The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1916-06-17

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It picked It from warning that
came to Enoch Golden this morning. l
tell you you're handing forty millions
to a bunch Of crooks on forged
order!"
Tho captain called to couple OF
his men.
"Tierney. and you. Doolan. take this
bug-shooter in charge"
"Then telephone to Stonington him
SELF" cried the frantic Manley strug-
Cling in the grip of his captors. Get
him on tho wire himself. and see what
he says!"
Patterson" he called out. Take
charge here, and don't let this motor
truck move an inch until verify this
order of Stonington's." Then he
turned to Manley. you come with
me-
The triumphant light soon went out
of young Manley's face, however, as
he stood beside the captain in the
telephone booth. He could hear that
official call for the number, ask for
Stonlngton, and crisply demand of the
banker II the order for the vault trans
fer was authentic or not.
"Of, course it's authentic! And I
want to know what this game is!
What are you and your bunch out
there trying to put over?"
But Manley knew what he knew.
Il tell you that wasn't Stonington
that spoke. 1t couldn't have been!"
cried the desperate young secretary.
The captain was already on his feet
ana fighting his way back to the fire
lines.
Then suppose you go up aud tell
him he's been dreaming" Knocked the
irate official. Then get his affidavit
to that effect and amble back with it,
Manley himself was already darting
for the door.
That's Just what I'll DO" he called
out as he made for the corner Of
Broadway on the run, and there, still
on the run. leaped tc the running
board OF an empty taxicab north
bound.
Manley's wait on Stoningtons door
step was doubly disquieting. Still
more disquieting, however, was that
obese bankers reply to the questions
so fiercely hurled at him.
II gave out no such order. And no
such telephone call ever came to my
house tonight"
Then get your phone, quick!" Man.
ley warned him. Get police head
quarters and stop that raid. Stop 1t in
side Of ten minutes or your bank'll
look like a last years bird nest!"
The excited man Of finance, who
had been shouting to his servants, sud-
denly ran to the nearest desk phone
and struggled with the instrument. But
his struggles We're fruitless."
"My phones dead" he cried out to
Manley. Il can't raise central!
can't raise anything"
Then beat it fer that bank Of
yours" advised Manley as he made for
the door.
take me with you; for Gods sake
take me with you," cried Stonington,
catching up his hat and coat and fol-
lowing him.
II can't" retorted the young man
as he darted for his waiting taxi. I've
got to look for crook called Oyster
Joel"
The police lines about the ruins of
the Third National bank, as Manley
went scurrying through the streets lit
tie dreaming that a stranger had pre-
ceded him on that errand. had al
ready been strengthened by addition
al reserves as the great motor truck
with its bank guards was piled higher
and higher with the gold from the
blistering vaults. Then came the call
for "Gangway!" And It became more
and more evident that no timely in
Perception was to rob Legar and his
men of their spoils. The heavy truck
was already crawling out from the
curb, its great wheels crunching over
cinders and charred wood, as mes
senger ran up to the officer in charge,
calling him to the telephone.
That official held the receiver in his
hand as the motor truck, gathering
speed as 1t threaded its way through
q narrow aisle of open asphalt formed
by surging humanity, rounded the cor
ner into Broadway, Numbered north
ward for three blocks. and again
turned eastward.
BY the time John Stonington's Ian
daulet reached the bank, following the
warning already sent on from head
quarters, an empty vault lay amid the
smoking ruins and Legar's galleon ON
wheels, loaded to the brink with its
stolen gold, had slipped away unchal-
lenged through the darkness and all
trace Of 1t had been lost.
The objective of that wheeled gal
leon, however, seemed to have been
nicely appreciated by Oyster Joe, quiet
ly smoking on the deck of an extremely
powerful-engined but extremely dirty
launch moored in the shadow of a
wharf. That worthy, indeed, showed
a marked preference for gloom. since
neither his cabin nor his deck lamps
were alight. Equally without light
was the numbering truck which
crawled cautiously down to the lip of
the wharf. where, after an exchange
of quiet whistled signals, number Of
vaguely outlined figures set about lift