We drifted down the river until we were out of sight of the motor boat. Then we returned along the road to the town which we had passed. Here we got our dinner at a restaurant, and calmly, like any other passengers, walked over to the station and a train. CHAPTER IV The Secret Agent Mooney’s experience with the last holdup made him consider a plan more daring than any former adventure. When the men came to examine the packages which Mooney had taken out of the safe on the through express and which White had so skillfully carried away through the trick of the exchanged suit case, they found that what they had taken to be money was, in fact, bonds of an industrial corporation, being shipped by sealed express. This was a profound disappointment. The bonds could not be negotiated, for they were registered. Mooney thought he might be able to obtain some reward, and I think he did take the matter up with a “fence” in one of the eastern cities. The result of this ill fortune was that he determined on some plan by which he would be able, at his leisure, to examine the sealed express before taking it out of the car, for Mooney had always hated having to hurry away without sorting the loot. And, with this intention as a moving factor, he formulated a holdup so daring that it would never have occurred to a person of less determined assurance. I have thought it advisable not to set out here the name of the town, as it would serve to identify persons who ought not to be held responsible for the fact that they were taken in by Mooney’s ingenious plan. We had resorted to no sort of disguise, except that both Mooney and White were very well dressed. White had with him a small telegraphic instrument in a paper box, and Mooney had one of those strapped leather bags that are sometimes carried by physicians. Mooney and I went on into the town, but White left the train some distance east of that point. It was about six o’clock when Mooney and I arrived. We went directly from the railroad station to the sheriff’s office, in the basement of the courthouse. Black letters painted on the window indicated it. Mooney and I went down into the basement of the building, entered this office, and inquired for the sheriff. A girl was making out some tax receipts at a long wooden table. She said the sheriff was in the other room, got up, opened the door, and we entered. The sheriff was a little red-haired man. He looked up as we came in, and turned over quickly a telegram which he had, apparently, just opened and which was lying on the table before him. Mooney at once addressed him. “My name is Jarvis,” he said, “of the United States Secret Service. I suppose the Department has advised you that I would be in here this evening.” The little man jumped up at that. “Ah, yes!” he said. “I have just gotten a telegram. Have a chair.”