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    $-Rays by Henry Leverage


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      All-Story Weekly, June 22, 1918

      ORGAN ALDRICH, olive-eyed you’ll think me crazy, but we’ve been robbed!

      and sleek, dropped his feet from his

      The gold in the third vault is fifty-three

      M desk in the sub-treasury and stared pounds, six ounces, light. I’ve weighed it all blankly at the figure of his chief

      on the big scales, sir.”

      weigher, who had burst through the doorway

      Morgan Aldrich lowered his feet,

      in the manner of a man getting out of the way tossed the perfecto out the wide-open window, of liquid-fire.

      and rose to his full height of five feet eleven.

      Roscoe, the chief weigher, brought up

      “Impossible!” he exclaimed.

      with a jerk before the severe rebuke in his

      “Absolutely impossible! There’s something

      boss’s eyes, raised his hands and passed them the matter with the scales. There’s a sack

      across his forehead, then blurted: “We’ve short—or something.”

      been robbed!”

      “The scales are all right, sir. I tried

      Morgan Aldrich replaced his patent-

      two, with the same result to a pennyweight.

      leather shoes upon the edge of his desk, drew The sacks check. We’ve verified them three

      forth a special perfecto, lighted it with a times with the record of the vault.”

      safety-match, then smiled up into the face of Morgan Aldrich paced back and forth

      his chief weigher. The smile was one of utter across the floor. He avoided Roscoe, who

      confidence. It was the perfect composure of a shrunk into one corner and waited. The care

      man sure of himself. He removed the perfecto and management of the sixty-odd employees

      from between his lips, glanced at its end, then of the sub-treasury was no light task for any said slowly:

      man. Aldrich always held the fear that one of

      “Roscoe, this is a very hot day. You

      the many would “go wrong” or abscond. He

      better punch the clock and drop down to did not believe that it was possible to rob the Coney Island. Take an Iron Steamboat and

      sub-treasury from the outside. The great

      cool off.”

      vaults, of which there were eight, were

      The chief weigher mopped his brow

      protected by concrete and steel. The building with his shirt-sleeve. Tiny wrinkles of doubt was guarded day and night by two shifts of

      spread from the corners of his eyes.

      special detectives. Each man was bonded by a

      “I know,” he said brokenly, “that reliable company.

      All-Story Weekly

      2

      He paused in his stride across the

      “Yes, sir. It’s about seven ounces

      room. “Roscoe,” he said after a shrewd glance short—they are all about that much short.”

      at the doorway— “Roscoe, go back to the

      “All?”

      vault, check up once more, then bring me one

      “Yes. I weighed thirty of them from

      of the sacks. Also, Roscoe—” The chief different parts of the vault. Something’s the weigher had turned to go. “Roscoe, say matter—somewhere. I don’t understand it at nothing of this to anybody. Bring a sack here, all.”

      leaving a receipt with the vault-keeper, and Aldrich drew out his gold knife that

      also bring a scales—the kind that was attached to a watch-chain. He opened it, automatically weigh gold pieces. There’s one slit under the cords that bound the neck of the in the assay room.”

      sack, and pried the red seal loose.

      Aldrich fished a second perfecto from

      “We’ll count them first.” he said as he

      his vest-pocket, lighted it, and stepped to the spread the sack open and dumped the double-window. He breathed deeply of the outer air.

      eagles upon the desk.

      The bustle of the street, the shouts of the

      Roscoe watched as Aldrich stacked the

      newsboys with their war-extras, the shuffling coins into piles, of twenties. He leveled them of passing feet, all seemed a reality of the new off, stooped and ran his eye over the piles, world. Roscoe had thrown him into a doubt

      then said: “They’re all there—five hundred.

      which all but passed as he waited and dragged Twenty-five piles.”

      upon the cigar.

      Roscoe mopped his forehead. The heat

      “The worst that can be the matter,” he

      seemed to have risen in the room.

      concluded. “is that the sacks are short in

      “Now,” said Aldrich seriously, “we’ll

      count, or that there ain’t five hundred double-weigh one.”

      eagles in each sack. We’ve never lost a cent.

      Roscoe set the scales upon the center

      I’ll bet a box of cigars it’s this heat that’s of the desk. Aldrich picked up a coin from off affected old Roscoe and his count!”

      a pile, felt of it, balanced it in his hand, then The chief weigher appeared as Aldrich

      allowed it to settle in the groove marked

      was finishing the cigar. Aldrich sat down in

      “double-eagle.”

      his swivel-chair as Roscoe deposited a sealed They both leaned. The scales lifted the

      sack and a coin-scales upon the extension of coin with a quick snap—the weight went

      the desk.

      down. Both men glanced at the coin. “I’ll try

      “What did you find?” asked Aldrich

      another.” said Aldrich in perplexity.

      with a good-natured twinkle in his olive eyes.

      The second twenty-dollar gold piece

      “The same,” husked Roscoe, wiping

      weighed light, as had the first. Aldrich’s hand his forehead where beads of moisture had

      trembled as he reached for more. He tried a

      sprung from clear skin. “It’s the same—each

      dozen with nervous fingers. The result was the time. There’s one thousand sacks in the vault.

      same.

      They should weigh fifty-three pounds, six

      “Good God!” he exclaimed, reaching

      ounces more than they do.”

      for his handkerchief and wiping his face.

      “Eh-m!” Aldrich glanced at the sack.

      “What can be the matter? They’re new coins

      He lifted it, held it out, ran his eyes over its minted this year at Washington. They look

      surface, then dropped it upon the desk. “It

      right. They haven’t been in circulation.

      looks all right,” he mused. “Looks as if it had Roscoe, bring me another sack. Take it from

      never been tampered with. Did you weigh it?”

      the back of the vault.”

      $-Rays

      3

      Aldrich gathered up the gold pieces

      matter is serious, and but for our receipts to and dropped them into the sack. He opened a

      Washington I’d think the trouble was at the

      drawer and laid the sack among some papers.

      mint. You may go now.”

      His hand trembled as he turned the key in the Aldrich picked up one of the gold

      Yale lock. He sat down, then tapped upon the pieces as Roscoe softly closed the door. It

      edge of the desk. Now and then he turned and appeared to his trained touch a trifle light. He glanced out the doorway. Roscoe seemed long

      dropped it in the slot of the scales, then leaned in coming.

      and eyed its milling. Finding this sharp and The chi
    ef weigher staggered in finally.

      perfect, he compared it with a gold twenty he He had brought two sacks. These Aldrich drew out from his pocket. There seemed no opened, as he had opened the first sack. The difference. He weighed the pocket-piece. The coins checked—five hundred to a sack. The

      scales balanced to a hair.

      weight of each gold piece was light. Aldrich

      “They’re all about a quarter of a

      tried a score. He sat down then, stared blankly pennyweight light,” he concluded, glancing at at the open sky through the window, then

      the coins on the desk. “That much is settled.

      turned toward the perspiring Roscoe.

      Now, how did they come to be that light? The

      “Check the number of sacks in the

      mint did not make a mistake—they never

      vault,” he ordered. “Then after you have make mistakes. The weight was correct when checked them seal the vault—and do not let

      the vault was closed. Each coin is a fraction any one take any sacks from it. I shall keep light when the vault is opened. I don’t know these three sacks of short-weight coins.” whether it’s a case for a detective or an Aldrich glanced at the drawer where he had

      assayer. I’ll try both.”

      placed the first sack.

      Aldrich pressed a button on the side of

      “Shall I try the other vaults?” asked

      his desk. He turned then and lifted the

      the chief weigher.

      telephone-receiver.

      “The coins are in boxes there—but you

      “Give me Hudson 3-9-0-4!” he said.

      might open one and bring me a few. We’ll try

      “That you, Frank? Say, Frank, get the

      them with the scales. We’ve had no chief on the wire—yes, this is Aldrich. This complaints from the banks, have we?”

      you chief? Say, chief, I want you to send a

      “None that I have heard—but the smart man down here right away. No—not banks have never had any of the gold out of

      Bull. No, Grace won’t do—somebody they

      the third vault since the last shipment from don’t know here. Some Washington man, if

      Washington.”

      you’ve got one. I want an operative with

      “This entire shipment was checked as

      something besides bone in his head! Have you to weight?”

      got one?”

      “Yes—and found correct. I’ll swear

      Aldrich listened, then smiled. “All

      that the weights in vault one, two, three, and right,” he said, “send him along. I’ll be in my four, which are in the old building, are correct office—tell him to come right up. Good-by!”

      with Washington’s figures. That is, they were Aldrich hung up the receiver and

      checked in correct.”

      turned toward the door. He listened a moment,

      “And vault three is short now!” then wheeled in the chair. He was leaning Aldrich’s voice was final. “That’s the back with a perfecto in his mouth when a light situation,” he added. “Well—try the others in tap sounded on the panel. “Come in,” said

      the old building and report your findings. This Aldrich. The door opened, admitting the chief

      All-Story Weekly

      4

      assayer, who had worked for the government

      Comes from a bad habit with my trigger-

      twenty years.

      finger.”

      “A job for you!” exclaimed Aldrich,

      Aldrich smiled. “Sit down,” he said.

      picking up three of the gold-pieces and toying

      “Now look one of these over while I talk.”

      with them. “I want you to rush an assay of

      Aldrich passed over a twenty-dollar gold-

      these right away. You’ll find them light. I

      piece taken from one of the two sacks.

      want to know what makes them light. There

      It was ten minutes later when Drew

      may be too much alloy—there may be rose, coughed, and went to the window. He something else the matter with them.”

      thrust his hands in his pockets as he glanced The assayer weighed one in the hollow

      up and down the street. He turned and said:

      of his palm. “Seems a shade light,” he said.

      “You’re short over ten thousand, then.

      “Perhaps they’ve been sweated by an acid.

      My opinion is that the trouble lies at the

      They look a little different.”

      mint.”

      “Test them out and bring the result.

      Aldrich frowned as he glanced at the

      I’m not prepared to say what is the matter—

      detective. He drew out a perfecto, bit off its except that something is wrong. The thing is end, then struck a match on his shoe. “I

      serious. Be careful and keep your findings to thought of that,” he said coolly. “That was the yourself.”

      first thought. I’ve been here ten years, and I The chief assayer went out. Aldrich

      never knew of the mint to send out a light coin waited, debating the problem over and over in let alone thousands of them. They have

      his mind. Now and then he turned toward the

      automatic machines which weigh, count, and

      pile of gold-pieces on his desk and fingered sack the gold pieces. Besides, their weight

      them reflectively.

      was correct with ours when the coins were

      A knock sounded then. “Come in!” said received.”

      Aldrich. The door opened. The figure that

      “I’m to start with the supposition,

      stepped in caused Aldrich to stiffen in his

      then.” blurted Drew, “that a thief went into the chair with suspicion. He ran his eyes over a vault and nicked about a quarter’s worth of

      perfect specimen of an old-clothes peddler. A gold from every double-eagle.”

      brown derby was hung on the back of a long,

      “That’s the way it looks.”

      shrewd head. The eyes that fixed upon his

      “How—” started Drew when the door

      own were cunning and sharp. The peddler’s

      opened and the assayer stepped in.

      outfit savored of Grand Street or the East

      “Well?” asked Aldrich, glancing up.

      Side. A rolled-up newspaper was under one

      “The coins are seven pennyweights

      arm.

      light. The ratio of gold to base metal is

      “Well,” said Aldrich, half rising from

      correct—nine to one. They were not drilled or his chair—“well, who let you in?”

      sweated or clipped. I looked them over very

      “I’m from th’ chief,” explained the carefully.”

      peddler with a light laugh. “Chief said ‘you Aldrich glanced at Drew. “That’s the

      wanted a man without a bone-head’—so I

      assayer’s report,” he said. “Sweet, isn’t it?

      came over!”

      I’ve given the government a receipt for full

      “Good!” exclaimed Aldrich. “I’m glad

      weight—I’m responsible unless we can find

      there’s one in the world. Here’s the situation.

      the reason.”

      What’s your name?”

      Drew laid down his roll of newspaper

      “Drew — ‘Triggy’ Drew. ‘Triggy’ and his hat. “Let’s go take a look at the vault,”

      $-Rays

      5

      he suggested.

      old and falling apart. The rivets seem loose.”

      Aldrich nodded. He rose, gathered up

      Aldrich ran his finger along the damp

      the coins on his desk, then turned swiftly.

      sides of the vault. “I never thought they were The door swung open, the chief as loose as all that,” he mused thoughtfully
    .

      weigher staggered in, white-faced and wild-

      “Why, you can almost pull them out!”

      eyed. “We’re robbed more!” he stuttered.

      “Rust,” suggested the chief weigher.

      “We’re hit hard! Some of the kegs and the

      “That’s what seemed to happen to the

      boxes—the ones I weighed—are way short.

      gold—rust! I never heard of gold rusting,

      They’re sealed and all that, but they’re short.

      though,” said Aldrich.

      It’s in all four vaults. Everything is wrong Drew furrowed his brows. “There’s an

      with our figures — everything!”

      idea there,” he said. “I’ve heard of gold

      “Good God!” exclaimed Aldrich.

      growing in mines—why not rusting away in a

      The chief weigher glanced at Drew.

      damp vault?”

      “He’s all right,” husked Aldrich. “He’s on the Aldrich stepped to the door of the

      case.”

      vault. “We might as well leave this,” he

      Drew started toward the door. Aldrich

      suggested. “The walls are ten feet thick,

      tossed the bags of gold into a lower drawer, sheathed with the plates you see. The floor is locked it, then led the way down through the concrete on railroad iron. There’s no tunnel or hallway to a stairs that descended into a dark-anything like that. If there was we’d lost the vaulted basement, out of which the gold in a bunch. The stuff simply melted government had partitioned strong boxes for

      away—or all our scales are wrong.”

      the storage of gold and silver.

     

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