"Wish I'd been here instead of him," Macdonald said grimly. His eyes
softened as he continued to look down at the employee who had paid
with his life for his faithfulness. "It wasn't an even break. Poor old
fellow! You weren't built for a job like this, Robert Milton, but you
played your hand out to a finish. That's all any man can do."
He turned abruptly away and began examining the safe. The silver still
stood sacked in one large compartment. The bank-notes had escaped the
hurried search of the robbers, but the gold was practically all gone.
One sack had been torn by the explosion and single pieces of gold could
be found all over the safe.
Macdonald glanced over the papers rapidly. The officer picked up one
of dozens scattered over the floor. It was a mortgage note made out to
the bank by a miner. He collected the others. Evidently the bandits had
torn off the rubber, glanced over one or two to see if they had any cash
value, and tossed the package into the air as a disgusted gambler does
a pack of cards.
The bank president stepped to the door and threw it open. He explained
the situation in three sentences.
"I can't let you in now, boys, until the coroner has been here," he went
on to tell the crowd.
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