Year: 1876

A Romantic Story of a Bank Robbery

 Mixed up with n WOman's Vengeance.

 The City Bank of Erie, Pa., being closed for the day the young cashier thereof retired as usual to his daintily furnished lodgings in the upper part of the building, there to entertain himself for while over books or papers and then don the apparel suitable for hotel supper table and evening calls. Several private letters were upon his table await ing perusal, and one of these attracted his particular attention by it's unfamiliar and feminine handwriting. The con- tents commanded his reading more than once, for they were an appeal from 8 stranger to his courtesy and from 8 woman to his generosity. The writer, in as few words as possible, spoke of herself as having arrived in Erie only few days before in the hope of pro- curing loan from the bank upon cer- tain securities which constituted her widows dover. She had visited the bank in expectation of an interview with the president, but found her courage un- equal to the attempt, for, without speak ing, she had gone out again, though not until she had noticed the kindly counte- nance of a gentleman who was subse- quently named to her as the cashier. For reasons which she could scarely ex- plain to herself that countenance had en- couraged her to address it's possessor in the present unwonted manner and to beg his kind office in her behalf with the bank. She knew nothing about business, had no masculine relative or friend to call upon for aid or advice, and was 8 stranger in strange city on an errand absolutely beyond her power. Despair made her bold to impose upon the chivalry of MT. Edward J. Warren, who, at such number on such street, might find the writer of this poor ap- peal.

 Mary Kinnaird was the name signed to this somewhat vague missive, and Warren pondered the latter with sensa- tions of mingled surprise and curiosity. He remembered noticinga yelled woman of graceful figure, who had abruptly turned back from walking into the bank during the day, and doubted not that she was the author of the note. He was vain with the not unnatural self-conceit of 8 comedy youth whose position and manners had secured him high feminine favor in local society, and the promise of romance in the appeal of his new cor respondent was very tempting. In short, he decided to see the lady forth with. Repairing, after supper at his hotel, to tasteful mere toy of acottage in the environs, as directed, he found there the young widow of the note and her securities. The latter, small in amount but good of their kind, he thought might be negotiated; the former, intelligent, graceful, and unaffected, he was delight

 to find ready to receive and trust him as 8 friend.

 Thus romantically began an acquaint- ance which ran on without further nota- ble incident for several weeks. Mrs. Kinnaird rented the little cottage until the business calling her to the city should be finally settled, and in that time surprised the cashier by two calls upon him in his rooms over the bank. On one of these extraordinary occasions her excuse was that she had an insatia- ble womanly curiosity to see what bank vaults were like, and MT. Warren polite ly escorted her down stairs and explained the mysteries of locks and iron doors.

 As she had previously preserved to- ward him a certain modest reserve in all their interviews, he was yet more amazed when, on the very next evening, she again presented herself at his lodg- ings and, after much frivolity of dig course, asked him to send for bottle of wine. In his growing fatuity he as- sented, and had scarcely drained his first glass when his strangely changed com panion struck an odd vein of conversa- tion. Did he remember that about six months ago lad had entered the bank and requested him to change fifty dol lar bill? Yes, he recalled the matter perfectly. The bill was counterfeit and he hastened after the lad and caused his arrest2 Yes, of course, but why this questioning Bewildered by the woman's strange looks, as we'll as words, the young man would fain have demand ed explanation, but his speech suddenly became thick and a dreadful stupor crept over his senses. "'That boy would not tell where he got the bill, and on your evidence, Edward Warren, he was convicted and sentenced to solitary con- finement for seven years. He is my brother, and I am here to avenge him !'' Such were the words heard by the hap less bank cashier as he sank senseless under the wine which the speaker had drugged for him.

 When Warren recovered his conscious ness fremen were dragging him from the smoke which had ascended thickly to his room from the bank below, for the latter had been in flames. Upon the extinction of the fire it was found that the vaults had been robbed of nearly $50, ,O0O by the deliberate unlock ing of the doors. Further search dis