The Mystery of the Steel Disc | Page 3

had not been, he
would have eagerly seized on the circumstance; and furthermore, the
fact would have been known by the other officials and the state of
peace which I had found on entering would not have existed. There was
but one thing to think: Rhodes had taken the bonds, or was shielding
the thief.
I related the case to Betts when I reached the office, and he laughed
incredulously:
"Say, Duncan," he said, "that is a bit too wild a tale for me. Twelve
hundred thousand dollars gone from a time-locked bank vault overnight
without opening it! Gee! Why don't you consult that man Rand,
Lawrence Rand, the fellow who has been untying some of those hard
knots out West? Don't you remember the Johnstone mirror poisoning
case and the Rebstock mines affair?"
"Yes, I do. Is Rand his name? Where is he to be found?"
"Jordan went up to his place one night--I think it is in Fifty-seventh

Street, in some apartment house. Here, look him up in the telephone
book."
I found him entered there. "Lawrence Rand, Special Agent. 32088
Plaza." And calling him up made an engagement for an hour later.
I was ushered into the reception-room of his apartment by a
dark-skinned young giant, whom I at first thought a negro, but as I saw
him in the full light and noted his straight hair and heavy coppery
features, I was surprised to find he was a full-blooded Indian. He was
dressed in clothes that did not seem compatible with the rank of a
servant.
Rand entered with a brisk step, a frank smile on his keen face. As he
gripped my hand I realized that far more physical power was in his
possession than one would think by his frame, of medium height and
slender almost to thinness. It was afterward that I found every inch of
him was whipcord and steel.
We sat down in the inner room and I told him the story of Rhodes and
the bonds. When I had finished he frowned ever so slightly and said,
"Is that all?"
I thought I had been rather explicit, so I replied with a little rigor: "That
seems to cover the case."
"Do you know whether there is one night-watchman or two? What is
the make of the safe? Have there ever been any attempts at robbery of
the bank? Are all of the members of the bank staff present this morning?
Has the president been on the right side of the market for the past
year?"
The questions came like shots from a rapid-fire gun. He did not wait for
me to answer.
"I see you do not know. We will waste no time. You are to meet young
Rhodes at lunch. I want you to invite me, too, for I want to see him."

We took a Sixth Avenue train to Rector Street, and at 12:15 chose our
seats in a corner compartment in Haan's. We had been at the table a
moment when Rhodes, still very pale, entered and looked around for
me. As I introduced him to Rand, I noticed that the latter, after looking
the bank clerk full in the eyes a second, let his gaze play like lightning
over Rhodes's head and features, and before we sat down he even
sought a pretext to step behind Rhodes and look at the back of his head.
Rhodes was subjected to a severe questioning at once, and some of the
queries seemed to be anything but relevant, and in sum were meant to
make sure that it was impossible for any one but Rhodes to take the
bonds at any time the safe was open. After the books and cash had been
checked out, Rhodes said, a sliding steel screen was drawn over the
approach to the vault at such times as he was not inside to get or
replace papers or securities ordered out on written slip by some one of
the officers. He was sure the bonds could not have been given out by
mistake on a slip for other securities because the list tallied.
"Then either you took the bonds or they were extracted from the safe
after the time-lock was set, and the time-lock being all right up to the
present minute, you are facing toward Sing Sing," summarized Rand,
tilting his cigar and spilling salt into his beer.
Rhodes looked down and swallowed hard at something in his throat,
but could not answer.
"Who made the vault, when and where?" asked Rand.
"Mahler, in 1890, in Cincinnati."
"Hm, is that so--a Mahler vault, eh? Did I understand you to say the
watchman is an old Irishman named Hanahan, has been at the bank
twenty years and has considerable property? How do you know about
his