"
The bank president opened the door, let the officer enter, and followed
himself.
The sun had not yet risen and the blinds were down. Macdonald struck a
match and held it up. The wood burned and the flame flickered out.
"Bank's been robbed," he announced quietly.
"Looks like," agreed Jones. His voice was uneven with excitement.
The Scotch-Canadian lit another match. In the flare of it they saw that
the steel grill cutting off the alcove was open and that the door had
been blown from the safe. It lay on the floor among a litter of papers,
silver, fragments of steel, and bits of candle.
The marshal clutched at the arm of the banker. "Did you see--that?" he
whispered.
His finger pointed through the darkness to the other end of the room. In
the faint gray light of coming day Macdonald could see a huddled mass on
the floor.
"There has been murder done. I'll get a light. Don't move from here,
Jones. I want to look at things before we disturb them. There's no
danger. The robbers have been gone for hours."
Gopher had as much nerve as the next man--when the sun was shining and
he could see what danger he was facing. But there was something sinister
and nerve-racking here.
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