“Thanks,” drawled Dexter, nodding to his
companion, who went into the outer office, where she
might be heard lowering the windows. She was
gone but a few moments ere she returned again, carrying
a length of knotted rope. Under cover of Dexter’s
revolver, Bristol stoically submitted to having his
wrists tied behind him. The end of the line
was then thrown through the ventilator above the door
which communicated with the outer office and Bristol
was triced up in such a way that, his wrists being
raised behind him to an uncomfortable degree, he was
almost forced to stand upon tiptoe. The line
was then secured.
“Very workmanlike!” commented the victim.
“You’ll find a large handkerchief in
my inside breast pocket. It’s a clean one,
and I can recommend it as a gag!”
Very promptly it was employed for the purpose, and
Inspector Bristol found himself helpless and constrained
in a very painful position. Dexter laid down
his revolver.
“We will now give you a free show, Inspector,”
he said, genially, “of our camera obscura!”
He pulled down the blinds, which Bristol noted with
interest to be black, but through an opening in one
of them a mysterious ray of light—the same
that he had noticed from Fleet Street—shone
upon that point in the ceiling where the arrangement
of mirrors was attached. Dexter made some alteration,
apparently in the focus of the lens (for Bristol had
divined that in some way a lens had been fixed in
the reflector above the bank window below) and the
disc of light became concentrated. The white-covered
table was moved slightly, and in the darkness some
further manipulation was performed.
“Observe,” came the strident voice—“we
now have upon the screen here a minute moving picture.
This little device, which is not protected in any
way, is of my own invention, and proved extremely
useful in the Arkwright jewel case, which startled
Chicago. It has proved useful now. I know
almost as much concerning the arrangements below as
the manager himself. In confidence, Inspector,
this is my last bid for the slipper! I have plunged
on it. Madame Sforza, the distinguished Italian
lady who recently opened an account below, opened
it for 500 pounds cash. She has drawn a portion,
but a balance remains which I am resigned to lose.
Her motor-car (hired), her references (forged), the
case of jewels which she deposited this morning (duds!)—all
represent a considerable outlay. It’s
a nerve-racking line of operation, too. Any hour
of the day may bring such a visitor as yourself, for
example. In short, I am at the end of my tether.”
Bristol, ignoring the increasing pain in his arms
and wrists, turned his eyes upon the white-covered
table and there saw a minute and clear-cut picture,
such as one sees in a focussing screen, of the interior
of the manager’s office of the London County
and Provincial Bank!
