“It was my business to interest them and to help on the ‘salting’ operation to the extent of preparing the loaded cigarettes. For this I expected to receive one hundred thousand dollars--which sum I intended turning over to you. “But I have failed in that, and now the utmost I can do is to die so that you may have the one hundred and fifty thousand dollars insurance which I have taken out on my life. That and this home is to be yours. It is all that is left of your inheritance.” CHAPTER XV. THE TENDER-HEARTED WATCHMAN. Nick’s return to town had not been quite as peaceful as he had hoped. But he was more than satisfied with the result of the work of the last few days. He had captured one of the men who had escaped him in the round-up of the big Western swindle. Only one other member of that gang was now at large, and the capture of Ramsay served to make Nick all the more eager to repeat the operation with the missing swindler. Ramsay was questioned as to the whereabouts of this man, but he was not able to tell anything save that the two had come East together and that Ramsay had parted from his pal in Boston and had heard nothing from him since then. Nick sought around for clews and finally came in touch with his man through a splendidly organized bank robbery. The story of the bank robbery indicated that more than ordinary intelligence had been brought into play in consummating this piece of villainy. The bank was the People’s National, of Latimer, Vt. The robbery occurred at one o’clock in the morning. The watchman was making his hourly round of the premises when a voice outside struck on his ears. “Help! For Heaven’s sake, do something for me!” came the cry. “Call an ambulance, quick!” The bank occupied the first floor of a corner building. There were two floors above, divided into rooms and used as offices by lawyers and real estate men. In front of the building was a lamp-post. Next to the lamp-post was an upright, bearing a box-like contrivance containing a massive gong. This gong was connected electrically with the bank vaults, and was supposed to sound an alarm if the vaults were tampered with in any way. Halting at one of the front windows, the watchman peered through into the ring of yellow light thrown by the street lamp. Clinging to the lamp-post was a man in a frock coat and silk hat--well dressed, as the watchman could plainly see. Nor was he drunk, although he wavered from side to side and had all he could do to hold himself in an upright position. It was evident that there was something serious the matter with him, and the watchman pressed his face close to the window and craned his neck to look up and down the street. There was absolutely no one in sight who might proceed to the unfortunate man’s assistance.