Then a new thought seized him: If they found him here alone-with all this money and all these dead men-what would his life be worth? He glanced about, tiptoed cautiously to a side door, and again looked behind. He was not a man easily moved but the sight was appalling! “Robbery and murder,” he whispered slowly to himself as he saw the twisted, oozing mouth of the president where he lay half-buried on his desk. The stillness of death lay everywhere and everywhere bowed, bent, and stretched the silent forms of men. He dashed up to the cellar floor, up into the bank. Here another guard lay prostrate on his face, cold and still. With one glance at him the messenger hurried up to the sub-vault. The watchman sat as if asleep, with the gate swinging free. He awoke with a sense of horror, leaped from the body, and groped up the stairs, calling to the guard. He stepped forward, clutched at the air, and fell fainting across the corpse. The air seemed unaccountably foul, with a strong, peculiar odor.
He stared at it, and then felt sick and nauseated. There lay the body of the vault clerk, cold and stiff. The cold sweat stood on his forehead but he searched, pounded, pushed, and worked until after what seemed endless hours his hand struck a cold bit of metal and the great door swung again harshly on its hinges, and then, striking against something soft and heavy, stopped. Then with a sigh he went methodically to work. He forgot the gold and looked death squarely in the face. Then he knew! The great stone door had swung to. He groped for his light and swung it about him. Slowly, wearily, the old lid lifted, and with a last, low groan lay bare its treasure-and he saw the dull sheen of gold!Ī low, grinding, reverberating crash struck upon his ear. The rust had eaten a hundred years, and it had gone deep. Looking about, he found a bit of iron and began to pry. He looked at the vast and old-fashioned lock and flashed his light on the hinges. He put them carefully aside and stepped to the chest. On a high shelf lay the two missing volumes of records, and others. It was a long, narrow room with shelves, and at the far end, an old iron chest.
He peered in it was evidently a secret vault-some hiding place of the old bank unknown in newer times. He was sounding and working again when suddenly the whole black wall swung as on mighty hinges, and blackness yawned beyond. Then he went back to the far end, where somehow the wall felt different. He felt carefully around the room, shelf by shelf, on the muddied floor, and in crevice and corner. A great rat leaped past him and cobwebs crept across his face. Here at last was peace, and he groped moodily forward. He drew a long breath as he threw back the last great iron door and stepped into the fetid slime within. Here with his dark lantern he groped in the bowels of the earth, under the world. Down he went beneath Broadway, where the dim light filtered through the feet of hurrying men down to the dark basement beneath down into the blackness and silence beneath that lowest cavern. “Well, Jim, the tail of the new comet hits us at noon this time,” said the vault clerk, as he passed over the keys but the messenger passed silently down the stairs. “Not very,” said the messenger, as he walked out. Suppose you nose around down there,-it isn’t very pleasant, I suppose.” “Everything of value has been moved out since the water began to seep in,” said the president “but we miss two volumes of old records. It was too dangerous for more valuable men.
Of course, they wanted him to go down to the lower vaults. The messenger followed the president silently. Oh, by the way, Jim,” turning again to the messenger, “I want you to go down into the lower vaults today.” “Oh, that was Halley’s,” said the president “this is a new comet, quite a stranger, they say-wonderful, wonderful! I saw it last night. “I thought we’d journeyed through the comet’s tail once,” broke in the junior clerk affably. Even the president, as he entered, smiled patronizingly at him, and asked: Bits of the words of the walkers came to him.Įverybody was talking of it. He was outside the world-”nothing!” as he said bitterly. Few ever noticed him save in a way that stung. He stood a moment on the steps of the bank, watching the human river that swirled down Broadway.
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