“Hit it the first time. Look at that Roe;
cast your eye on that elegant bit of literature, Weaver,”
and Cummings, greatly excited, paced up and down the
room, whistling, and indulging in other signs of huge
gratification.
“Well done, Jim, well done. Now write the
other one, and we’ll go and licker up.”
Again Cummings picked up his facile pen, and was soon
successful in writing the following letter, purporting
to be from this same J. B. Barrett.
“Springfield, Mo., Oct. 21, ’86.
“John Bronson, Esq., St. Louis, Mo.
“Dr. Sir: Come at once to Peirce
City by train No. 3, leaving St. Louis 8:25 p.m.
Inclosed find note to messenger on the train, which
you can use for a pass in case you see Mr. Damsel
in time. Agent at Peirce City will instruct you
further.
“Respectfully, J. B. Barrett,
R. A.”
Jim drew a long, deep sigh of relief as he muttered:
“Half the work is done; half the work is done.”
Drawing the railroad map of the Chicago & Alton road
toward him, he put the pen point on St. Louis, and
slowing following the St. L. & S. F. Division, paused
at Kirkwood.
“Roe, here’s the place I shall tackle
this messenger. It is rather close to St. Louis,
but it’s down grade and the train will be making
fast time. She stops at Pacific—here,
and we will jump the train there, strike for the river,
and paddle down to the K. & S. W. You must jump on
at the crossing near the limits, plug the bell cord
so the damned messenger can’t pull the rope
on me, and I will have him foul.”
Roe listened attentively to these instructions, nodding
his head slowly several times to express his approval,
and said:
“When will we go down?”
Jim Cummings, looking at the time-table, answered:
“This is—what date is this, Weaver?”
“October 11th.”
“Two weeks from to-day will be the 25th.
That is on—let’s see, that is Tuesday.”
“Two weeks from to-day, Roe, you will have to
take the train at St. Louis; get your ticket to Kirkwood.
I see by this time-table that No. 3 does stop there.
When you get off, run ahead, plug the bell-cord, and
I will wait till she gets up speed after leaving Kirkwood
before I draw my deposit.”
Thus did these three men plan a robbery that was to
mulet the Adams Express Company of $100,000, baffle
the renowned Pinkertons for weeks and excite universal
admiration for its boldness, skill, and completeness.
The papers upon which Cummings had exercised his skill,
were torn into little bits, the time-tables and maps
were folded and placed in coat pockets, the lamp extinguished,
and three men were soon strolling down Lake street
as calmly as if they had no other object than to saunter
into their favorite bar-room, and toss off a social
drink or two.
