But to proceed. It seemed to me that the time was about near to plan for the removal of the treasure. The surroundings on the outside of the bank were such that I could see, from the start, that some smart engineering must be done. One factor in the coming loot of which I would not lose sight was my faithful Billy. If the success of my plotting could be assured through the blame falling on him, then I was prepared to forfeit all, though I had gone ever so far. He had been too “square” in his dealings with me to be sacrificed. That I was determined upon, no matter what others might think. Suspicion should not fall on him. He was willing enough, though, that the trick be “pulled off” in his time. “I’ll take my chances of arrest, George,” he said, “anything to get away with the cash.” I would not listen to him, though it was advanced that in the event that he was arrested we might make a dicker with the bank,--in other words, obtain a sacred promise of his release, provided we returned to the bank a good-sized sum of money as a ransom. The game was a big one, and, being set on making it a clean sweep, not unlike that of the Ocean Bank, I held to my own ideas and proceeded accordingly. Although it was thought by the bank officials that the two night watchmen remained at the bank during the daylight hours of Sunday, while Billy was absent on leave, it was not so entirely. One of them occasionally would absent himself for several hours, usually going to his home in Pine Street. My plan was to profit by this watchman’s negligence--loot the bank in his absence. We would then have only one watchman to deal with. Outside of business hours, as I’ve said, the Second Street door was the usual entrance to the bank. It was secured on the inside. The Chestnut Street door was never open on Sundays or holidays unless President Noblit chose to use it, for he carried the key. On an occasion or two, so I learned, he’d surprised the watchmen by coming in that way. It happened seldom, however. So, with one of the watchmen out of the bank for two or three hours on Sunday morning, it seemed to me that the loot could be done. We could better get at him, I argued, if one of my associates got inside before the victim really knew who his visitor might be. If an entrance were gained by the main door with a key, he might, momentarily, be thrown off his guard in the belief that it was President Noblit coming in. There was another argument which seemed to favor an entrance by that door: it was infrequently used out of business hours, and therefore would get less attention from the watchman. He would more than likely linger in the vicinity of the Second Street door, if he had any inclination at all to perform his duty faithfully. Thus believing, I planned to overcome the lone watchman. Accordingly I made a duplicate key to the Chestnut Street door from a wax impression supplied me by Billy.