The Tomahawk., 1916-09-14
Nv WILLIAM ATHERTON DU PUY
NAXHXXXAHAHAHANAXA NAHA~ANA~A.AHAHA'
Copyright by w. G.. Chapman

| seemed that his subconscious mind
was aware of an oversight that had
been made by his working faculties.
| He was not able to sleep well of nights,
and in his sleep the various accounts
Of the New Beaufort bank insisted on
visualizing themselves. Finally the re-
| curing accounts eliminated themselves
with the exception Of one which per-
sisted. The loans and discounts ac-
count kept thrustins itself into his con-
seriousness.
by Jove!" he exclaimed suddenly
| to himself. 1.-THE entries in that &C.
| count, the amounts Of money that
have been run through it, are out Of
all proportion to the other business
Of tho institution. Something is wrong
with loans and discounts"
So Newton hurried back to New
Beaufort and was that night a guest at
the party given by Conrad Compton,
with whom he had built up friend
ship through years Of association in
the line of his work. He was to take
further look at the loans and dis
counts on the morrow.
The department Of justice is the
prosecutor in cases Of violations of the
national banking law. It's work is en-
aminers of the treasury department.
The New York Office of this service, as
a matter Of daily routine, received the
information that David torrance, as
sistant cashier of the First National
bank Of New Beaufort, was regularly
placing heavy buying and selling or
ders with a certain broker in Wall
street.
For this reason, Agent Gard got the
assignment to come to New Beaufort,
and was thus the representative of the
third detective service. His windows
at the grocery store looked out upon
the side door of the bank opposite. He
was bland and inconspicuous, but he
was an expert accountant, had taken a
degree in the law and worked three
nights week in the gymnasium in
New York when he was in town.
The Compton home stood on hill
just back of the town. It was known
as Stone Crest and was the most am
bilious establishment whereabouts, be-
ing always pointed out with pride to
visitors. The banker was a widower,
but given to entertainment and to
charity. The members Of the board
Of aldermen often met at Stone Crest
to discuss those matters that had to do
with the well-being Of the town. Teas
were given there whenever its charit-
able women were inaugurating some
new venture. The party tonight was
semipublic affair, for it was in COM
memoration of a centennial anniver-
sary Of that occasion when the first
settlers had fought off attacking In
dams from their stockade through a
| day and night.
Conrad Compton was tall, graceful,
| nervous man with high forehead and
mass Of wavy hair. His features
were of a perfect regularity and the
whole face was so small as to give 1t
somewhat the appearance Of that OF
woman, an impression that was height
ened by it's absolute pallor.
Ogram Newton, the bank examiner,
|
ceived his guests, as he directed their
entertainment by party Of profession
ais who had been brought up from
New York for the occasion, as the ices
were served. He thought the banker
was bit paler than usual and his nat
ural nervousness seemed somewhat &C
centuated. Once during the evening
he had dtifted into the library which
happened to be empty Of guests, and
had found the host peering out Of a
window that commanded view of the
town.
II trust you will pardon my preoccu-
patton said the banker, turning again
to his guests, II seem to have way
of feeling lonesomest when I have
most company"
McCord, the plain-clothes man, had
vacillated between his hotel, the rail-
way station, and those streets that
gave views of the alleys leading past
the back ends of establishments that
might contain safes worth rafting. Oc-
casiona11y his eye fell upon the lights
in the house Of the banker on the hill,
and wandered to the chief financial es-
tablishment of the town. Yet all was
so serene in this eddy Of the world
that the hour Of solitude that followed
eleven o'clock seemed such an age that
it drove him to bed.
As the time drew on toward twelve
there was no sign Of life in the vii.
lage. The lights in the drug stores,
the restaurants, the delicatessens
where ice cream is served to the small
town lovers, had one by one winked
themselves out. The owl car Of the
trolley line that ran through the vii
lage had deposited its last late revel-
ers at eleven-thirty. The swinging arc
lights at the street intersections occa-
sionally sputtered fitfully and glared
again. A dynamo whirred distantly at
the electric light plant.
Gard, the special agent Of the de-