of large denomination to expedite the
counting. He handed out the money and the man gathered it up and was
putting it into his pocket when Caruth laid a hand on his arm and said:
"The president of the bank wants to see you in his private office a few
moments."
Suddenly, and without any warning, the stranger kicked Caruth's feet
from under him, and he fell heavily on the tiled flooring, his head
striking it so hard that he became instantly unconscious. The stranger
made a break for the street entrance. Quick as a flash Fred Halsey
sprang forward in front of him, darted between his legs, and caused him
to fall forward on his face. The man was quick, though, and caught on
his hands. He was on his feet again in an instant. Again Fred darted
between his legs and threw him. This time he rolled completely over
and Fred saw the handle of a revolver protruding from a hip pocket. He
grabbed it, cocked it, and held the muzzle within a foot of the forger's
head, saying:
"I'll shoot!"
The man lay still, glaring at the black muzzle of the weapon like one
confronting a ghost. Mr. Barron heard the noise of the three falls, and
rushed out of the office in time to see Fred aim the revolver at the head
of the forger.
"Arrest that man!" he cried. "He is a forger."
A forger is the one criminal most hated in Wall Street, and as soon as it
was announced that he was one, the stranger was instantly surrounded
and captured. A policeman came in from the street and put the nippers
on him.
"Bring him into my office, officer," said the banker. "He has a lot of the
bank's money in his possession."
The officer took him to the president's room, and Fred followed, with
the pistol still in his hand. He was searched, and the money found in his
pocket. The cashier brought in the check and said he did not believe it
was forged.
"Send for Mr. Manson and see what he says about it," suggested the
banker.
Manson was a rich broker, whose name had been forged to the check.
He was found at his office and came over to the bank immediately.
Taking the check, which was for $10,000, he made a close examination
of it.
"I never gave that check to any one," he said. "It is a forgery, but such a
good one that ordinarily I would not be able to detect it myself."
"I took it in good faith," said the stranger. "Can you swear it was
forged?"
"Yes, for I have given out no check for that amount to-day."
"The date is nothing. Is that your signature?"
"It is very much like it, but I did not write it, nor did I ever give a check
to any such party."
"You will swear to that?" Barron asked him.
"Yes--a thousand times."
"Then I'll take the responsibility of the man's arrest and prosecution.
You may take him away, officer."
The policeman led his prisoner out, and a dozen prominent brokers got
around Barron to congratulate him on the arrest. Barron looked around
and saw Fred standing near the door, still holding the revolver in his
hand.
"Ah! There's the one to whom I am indebted for the arrest," and he
went over to where Fred was standing, extended his hand to him, and
added:
"He not only came and gave me warning, but actually made the arrest
himself. Caruth, our detective, was hurt, and the forger would have
escaped but for this boy here," and he, wrung Fred's hand as he spoke.
"That's so," remarked a broker, shaking Fred's hand. "I saw the whole
business myself, but didn't know what it meant. Shake, my dear boy,"
and he gave him a hearty handshake. A half dozen others followed, and
one said:
"Here, let's set him up. We want to encourage boys like him," and he
drew a ten-dollar bill from the inside pocket of his vest and laid it on
the desk. "Cover that with as much as you please, gentlemen."
Seven other laid down similar amounts, and Barton remarked;
"Whatever you give, gentlemen, I'll double it."
"Very good," said another, putting down a ten. "We'll all chip in."
The sum of $130 was laid on the desk while Fred stood there looking
on, with his heart way up in his throat.
"Now, Fred Halsey," the banker said to the newsboy. "I am going to
double this sum, giving you two hundred and sixty dollars. What are
you going to do with so much money?"
"Set up a bank of my own," was the prompt reply at which the banker
and the brokers broke into a roar of laughter.
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