Two Men of Sandy Bar

Old Morton. The stiff-necked Papist! That he should dare, for the sake of his black-browed, froward daughter, to—question the faith on which I have pinned my future! Well, with God's blessing, I gave him some wholesome discipline. If it were not for my covenant with Alexander—and nobly he has fulfilled his part,—I should forbid his alliance with the blood of this spying Jesuit.

Enter Mr. JACKSON, leading in CAPPER.

Jackson. Policeman, sir. [Exit.

Capper (turning sharply). Who's that man?

Old Morton. Jackson, clerk.

Capper. Umph! Been here long?

Old Morton. A year. He was appointed by my son.

Capper. Know anything of his previous life?

Old Morton (stiffly). I have already told you he is an appointee of my son's.

Capper. Yes! (Aside.) "Like master, like man." (Aloud.) Well, to business. We have worked up the robbery. We have reached two conclusions,—one, that the work was not done by professionals; the other, consequent upon this, that you can't recover the money.

Old Morton. Excuse me, sir, but I do not see the last conclusion.

Capper. Then listen. The professional thief has only one or two ways of disposing of his plunder, and these ways are always well known to us. Good! Your stolen coin has not been disposed of in the regular way, through the usual hands which we could at any time seize. Of this we are satisfied.

Old Morton. How do you know it?

Capper. In this way. The only clew we have to the identification of the missing money were two boxes of Mexican doubloons.

Old Morton (aside). Mr. Castro's special deposit! He may have reason for his interest. (Aloud.) Go on.

Capper. It is a coin rare in circulation in the interior. The night after the robbery, the dealer of a monte-table in Sacramento paid out five thousand dollars in doubloons. He declared it was taken in at the table, and could not identify the players. Of course, OF COURSE! So far, you see, you are helpless. We have only established one fact, that the robber is—is—(significantly) a gambler.

Old Morton (quietly). The regular trade of the thief seems to me to be of little importance if you cannot identify him, or recover my money. But go on, sir, go on: or is this all?

Capper (aside). The old fool is blind. That is natural. (Aloud.) It is not all. The crime will doubtless be repeated. The man who has access to your vaults, who has taken only thirty thousand dollars when he could have secured half a million,—this man, who has already gambled that thirty thousand away,—will not stop there. He will in a day or two, perhaps to-day, try to retrieve his losses out of YOUR capital. I am here to prevent it.

Old Morton (becoming interested). How?

Capper. Give me, for forty-eight hours, free access to this building. Let me conceal myself somewhere, anywhere, within these walls. Let it be without the knowledge of your clerks, even of YOUR SON!

Old Morton (proudly). Mr. Alexander Morton is absent to-day. There is no other reason why he should not be here to consent to the acts of his partner and father.

Capper (quickly). Very good. It is only to insure absolute secrecy.

Old Morton (aside). Another robbery might excite a suspicion, worse for our credit than our actual loss. There is a significant earnestness about this man, that awakens my fears. If Alexander were only here. (Aloud.) I accept. (CAPPER has been trying doors R. and L.)

Capper. What room is this? (At R.)

Old Morton. My son's: I would prefer—

Capper. And this? (At L.)

Old Morton. Mine, sir; if you choose—

Capper (locking door, and putting key in his pocket). This will do. Oblige me by making the necessary arrangements in your counting-room.

Old Morton (hesitating and aside). He is right: perhaps it is only prudence, and I am saving Alexander additional care and annoyance. [Exit.

Enter MR. SHADOW cautiously, C.

Shadow (in a lisping whisper to CAPPER). I've got the litht of the clerkth complete.

Capper (triumphantly). Put it in your pocket, Shadow. We don't care for the lackeys now: we are after the master.

Shadow. Eh! the mathter?

Capper. Yes: the master,—the young master, the reclaimed son, the reformed prodigal! ha, ha!—the young man who compensates himself for all this austere devotion to business and principle by dipping into the old man's vaults when he wants a pasear: eh, Shadow? That's the man we're after. Look here! I never took any stock in that young man's reformation. Ye don't teach old sports like him new tricks. They're a bad lot, father and son,—eh, Shadow?—and he's a chip of the old block. I spotted him before this robbery, before we were ever called in here professionally. I've had my eye on Alexander Morton, alias John Oakhurst; and, when I found the old man's doubloons raked over a monte-table at Sacramento, I knew where to look for the thief. Eh, Shadow?

Shadow (aside). He ith enormouth, thith Mithter Capper.

Enter OLD MORTON.

Old Morton. I have arranged everything. You will not be disturbed or suspected here in my private office. Eh! (Looking at SHADOW.) Who has slipped in here?

Capper. Only my Shadow, Mr. Morton; but I can rid myself even of that. (Crosses to SHADOW.) Take this card to the office, and wait for further orders. Vanish, Shadow! [Exit SHADOW.

Enter JACKSON.

Jackson. Mr. Alexander has come in, sir. (OLD MORTON and CAPPER start.)

Old Morton. Where is he?

Jackson. In his private room, sir.

Old Morton. Enough: you can go.

[Exit JACKSON.

Capper (crossing to MORTON). Remember, you have given your pledge of secrecy. Beware! Your honor, your property, the credit and reputation of your bank, are at stake.

Old Morton (after a pause of hesitation, with dignity). I gave you my word, sir, while my son was not present. I shall save myself from breaking my word with you, or concealing anything from him, by withdrawing myself. For the next twenty-four hours, this room (pointing to private room R.) is yours.

Each regards the other. Exit OLD MORTON C., as CAPPER exit in private room R. After a pause, door of room L. opens, and HARRY YORK appears, slightly intoxicated, followed by JOHN OAKHURST.

Harry York (looking around). By Jove! Morton, but you've got things in style here. And this yer's the gov'nor's desk; and here old Praise god Barebones sits opposite ye. Look yer, old boy (throwing himself in chair), I kin allow how it comes easy for ye to run this bank, for it's about as exciting, these times, as faro was to ye in '49, when I first knew ye as Jack Oakhurst; but how the Devil you can sit opposite that stiff embodiment of all the Ten Commandments, day by day, damn it! that's wot GETS me! Why, the first day I came here on business, the old man froze me so that I couldn't thaw a deposit out of my pocket. It chills me to think of it.

Oakhurst (hastily). I suppose I am accustomed to him. But come, Harry: let me warm you. (Opens door of safe L., and discovers cupboard, decanter, and glasses.)

York (laughing). By Jove! under the old man's very nose. Jack, this is like you. (Takes a drink.) Well, old boy, this is like old times. But you don't drink?