Jack Wright and His Electric Stage, Noname [ebook reader with android os .TXT] 📗

CHAPTER II.
SWINDLING THE INVENTOR.

The date, number, amount, and figures designating the amount of money Jack's check called for were written.

Jesse now took one of the blank checks Frank got for him, and imitating Jack's writing, he filled it in with the same number as the good check; after the words: "Pay to the order of—" he wrote, "Bearer," as Jack had done; before the word "Dollars," on the next line he wrote "Five thousand," and after the mark "$–" he put "5,000."

He left out the date and signature.

These were unnecessary in the trick he was playing.

Having satisfied himself that his writing bore a close resemblance to that on Jack's check, he laid the check he had filled out one top of the one Jack gave him with the greatest care, so that all the lines on one were exactly opposite the lines on the other.

This he ascertained by holding them up to the light and staring through the thin paper.

When he had them matched exactly, he located a spot across the width of both where no writing was seen.

Holding the checks tightly together he tore them in two, just as if the two checks were one thickness of paper.

Consequently both were torn exactly alike.

Taking off the two top pieces he laid them side by side, joining the edges where they were torn, and then did the same with the other check.

This done he took the right hand piece of Jack's check, upon which were the date at the top and signature at the bottom.

He then took the left hand piece of the check he had made out and put it to the piece with the signature which Jack inscribed.

The check now, instead of being for ten dollars, called for $5,000 and although a composite thing the signature was no forgery, and that was the principal writing studied by the paying tellers of banks.

It looked like a perfectly genuine check torn in two, for as both checks had been torn together, the curves of one fit the grooves of the other piece to perfection.

Jesse now burned up the remaining two pieces.

"Eureka!" he exclaimed, with an evil smile. "I've done it well. The most experienced bank clerk in the country would fail to detect the deception. Now to get it cashed!"

He put on his hat, and holding the two pieces of check in his hand, he left the Sea Spider House.

Making his way to the Wrightstown bank, he coolly entered, and approaching the paying teller's little brass barred window, he thrust in the two pieces of check and said blandly:

"Please cash that for me."

"You've torn the check in two," said the paying teller.

"I had it in my breast pocket, and as I was coming in the door I put my hand in my pocket to draw it out, when the end of the check caught in some books and it ripped in two."

The paying teller matched the torn ends.

They fitted with the utmost accuracy.

He then keenly scanned the signature.

Familiar with Jack Wright's checks as he was, he saw at a glance that the signature was genuine.

Without the slightest hesitation he cashed the check, paying the bandit with one hundred dollar bills.

Jesse requested him to give him bills of smaller denomination for one of the bank notes, and when this was done, he leisurely counted the money, placed it in his pocket and strolled out into the Street.

Here he came face to face with Jack.

The young Inventor was just about to enter the bank.

The shock upon a man of weaker nerves than Jesse James had, to thus meet Jack, would have been awful.

But the bandit king bad nerves of steel.

He did not start, turn pale, or twitch a muscle.

On the contrary he assumed a cheerful smile, shook hands very heartily with Jack, and said in apologetic tones:

"I deemed it best to pay for my railroad fare in cash, so I came here and got the money for your check, Mr. Wright."

"It's just as well you did," replied the Inventor. "I'm a director of this bank, and hold the position of president. The board meets to-day, and as I need some cash, I'm killing two birds with one stone."

"Very clever," said Jesse. "Good-bye. I must be off."

"Good-day, sir," said Jack, and he entered the bank.

The bandit strode swiftly to the Sea Spider House.

He found his companions dining, and joining them, he made a good meal, and at its conclusion all hands repaired to the bar again, and indulged in several more drinks.

Jesse then startled his companions by pulling out his big wad of bills, and paying the landlord for their fare.

The moment the gang got him alone, Frank whispered:

"Where did you get the roll, Jess?"

"From Jack Wright," laughed the outlaw.

"Tell us about it!"

"Certainly. It was the easiest game I ever played, and I got $5,000 out of it, too. Ha, ha, ha!"

Looks of intense astonishment appeared on the faces of his friends.

He then explained what he had done.

A roar of delight went up from the gang when he finished.

"Bully for you, Jess!"

"Oh, Lord, what a game!"

"You've done splendidly."

"What a roasting for the bank!"

They laughed and chuckled over it for some time.

But suddenly the solemned-faced Frank exclaimed in startled tones:

"Say! Suppose Jack Wright finds out in the bank what you've done! We'll have all the police in this town looking for us. Hadn't we better get out of here?"

"Oh, don't hurry yourself," coolly replied Jesse, as he noted the blank look of dismay on the faces of the rest produced by his brother's words. "There's no danger."

The bandit king always exercised a powerful influence over his brother and his men, and they immediately became imbued with his reckless carelessness, and got over the sadden fright which had for a moment shocked them.

Jesse then questioned the hotel keeper about the departure of trains from there, and learned that they could not leave Wrightstown in less than an hour.

He told his companions the news.

Before the train came in which, they intended to depart, another one arrived from the opposite direction.

Sheriff Timberlake was aboard.

His locomotive had caught up with the express train, and he boarded her, and learned that a passenger had seen five men spring aground at the Wrightstown curve.

As Jesse James and his men were not aboard, he at once presumed it was they who had thus eluded him.

He, therefore, alighted at the next station, and boarded the first train back for Wrightstown.

By dint of inquiring, he discovered that five men who answered to the description of his prey, were at the Sea Spider Hotel, and made his way there.

When he reached the hotel, he learned that the men were there, and had retired to one of the rooms.

Timberlake was a man who never wasted words.

When he spoke or acted, it was to the point.

He therefore made no remark, but quickly made his way up-stairs, sure that he had his prey cornered.

By moving quietly, and listening at the different doors, he finally located the sound of several voices coming from the room occupied by the James Boys.

He recognized them at once as the voices of the gang whom he had tracked to New York.

"It's time to get ready, boys," he heard Jesse say.

"We've got ten minutes yet," replied Cummins.

"Just time enough to reach the depot," added Frank.

The sheriff smiled, and produced a brace of revolvers.

Flinging open the door he saw the five men in the bedroom, sitting around a table upon which stood an empty whisky bottle and a deck of cards with which they had been amusing themselves.

Leveling his pistols at the outlaws he cried:

"Hands up!"

"Timberlake!" roared Jesse.

"Quick, obey or I'll fire!"

"Caught!" muttered Frank.

"I've got the drop on you!"

They saw that resistance was simply madness, so up went their hands and the keen glance of the sheriff swept over the party and he counted four men.

Miller was missing.

For a moment there was deep silence.

The bandits had time to recover from their panic.

"Let up, Timberlake, and I'll give you $5,000," said Jesse.

"Not for ten times that amount," replied the sheriff.

"You can't take all of us."

"Two will do–you and Frank."

"Will nothing bribe you?"

"Absolutely nothing." Jesse uttered a sharp signal whistle.

It echoed piercingly through the hotel, and the sheriff started and demanded with a frown:

"What did you do that for?"

"To summon assistance," coolly replied Jesse.

"You won't get any here."

"Oh, yes, we will. You'll see."

"I am going—"

He never finished that sentence.

Miller had heard the danger signal, came up in the hall, saw how the situation stood, and stealing up quietly behind Timberlake, he dealt the plucky officer a stunning blow with the butt of his pistol.

It knocked the sheriff down.

He was hardly prostrate before the whole gang was upon him, and while one took the pistols away from him, the rest bound and gagged him.

He thus was rendered perfectly helpless.

When he recovered from the effect of the blow, he found himself at the mercy of the gang, unable to move or speak, and tied up to the old-fashioned bed post.

"Fool," said Jesse, standing before him, and bending a burning glance upon him of mingled hate and rage. "Are you soft enough to imagine you can get away with all of us single handed?"

Timberlake did not reply of course.

But the look of intense fury he bestowed upon Jesse, amply evinced all that was passing in his mind.

"We are going to leave you here," preceded the king of the bandits, "and we are going back to Clay County. I'd like to blow your head off before we go, but that would run my bead in the hangman's noose. If you are unlucky enough to stumble across my path again, though, I shall be less merciful. I'd wipe you out as I would a viper."

Gagged as he was, Timberlake remained silent.

"Come, boys, let us begone," said Jesse turning to his companions. "We barely have time to catch the train."

They filed out of the room, and Jesse locked the door, carried the key away, and they left the hotel.

Making speed, they quickly reached the railroad depot.

A train was just leaving.

They quickly boarded it.

Away they were whirled to Missouri.

And that was the last Wrightstown ever saw of them.