Golden Stories

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Golden Stories, by Various

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Title: Golden Stories A Selection of the Best Fiction by the Foremost
Writers
Author: Various
Release Date: September 22, 2006 [EBook #19356]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GOLDEN
STORIES ***

Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Brian Janes, Melissa Er-Raqabi and
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TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:
Following each author's name was a notice: "All rights reserved." This
book is currently in the public domain, and the notices have been
removed, but are mentioned here in the interest of completeness.

Many inconsistencies in spelling, punctuation, and hyphenation have
been normalized. Others remain as in the original. Any deviation from
the author's intent is solely the responsibility of the transcriber.
This book seems to have been bound in two sections, each with stories
numbered I-XII.

Golden Stories
A SELECTION OF THE BEST FICTION BY THE FOREMOST
WRITERS
[Illustration]
NEW YORK THE SHORT STORIES COMPANY 1909

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF
TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING
THE SCANDINAVIAN
COPYRIGHT, 1908-1909, BY THE SHORT STORIES COMPANY

I
THE NIGHT EXPRESS
The Story of a Bank Robbery
By FRED M. WHITE
A PELTING rain volleyed against the great glass dome of the terminus,
a roaring wind boomed in the roof. Passengers, hurrying along the
platform, glistened in big coats and tweed caps pulled close over their
ears. By the platform the night express was drawn up--a glittering mass

of green and gold, shimmering with electric lights, warm, inviting, and
cozy.
Most of the corridor carriages and sleeping berths were full, for it was
early in October still, and the Scotch exodus was not just yet. A few
late comers were looking anxiously out for the guard. He came
presently, an alert figure in blue and silver. Really, he was very sorry.
But the train was unusually crowded, and he was doing the best he
could. He was perfectly aware of the fact that his questioners
represented a Cabinet Minister on his way to Balmoral and a prominent
Lothian baronet, but there are limits even to the power of an express
guard, on the Grand Coast Railway.
"Well, what's the matter with this?" the Minister demanded. "Here is an
ordinary first-class coach that will do very well for us. Now, Catesby,
unlock one of these doors and turn the lights on."
"Very sorry, my lord," the guard explained, "but it can't be done. Two
of the carriages in the coach are quite full, as you see, and the other two
are reserved. As a matter of fact, my lord, we are taking a body down to
Lydmouth. Gentleman who is going to be buried there. And the other
carriage is for the Imperial Bank of Scotland. Cashier going up north
with specie, you understand."
It was all plain enough, and disgustingly logical. To intrude upon the
presence of a body was perfectly impossible; to try and force the hand
of the bank cashier equally out of the question. As head of a great
financial house, the Minister knew that. A platform inspector bustled
along presently, with his hand to his gold-laced cap.
"Saloon carriage being coupled up behind, my lord," he said.
The problem was solved. The guard glanced at his watch. It seemed to
him that both the bank messenger and the undertaker were cutting it
fine. The coffin came presently on a hand-truck--a black velvet pall lay
over it, and on the sombre cloth a wreath or two of white lilies. The
door of the carriage was closed presently, and the blinds drawn
discreetly close. Following behind this came a barrow in charge of a

couple of platform police. On the barrow were two square deal boxes,
heavy out of all proportion to their size. These were deposited presently
to the satisfaction of a little nervous-looking man in gold-rimmed
glasses. Mr. George Skidmore, of the Imperial Bank, had his share of
ordinary courage, but he had an imagination, too, and he particularly
disliked these periodical trips to branch banks, in convoy, so to speak.
He took no risks.
"Awful night, sir," the guard observed. "Rather lucky to get a carriage
to yourself, sir. Don't suppose you would have done so only we're
taking a corpse as far as Lydmouth, which is our first stop."
"Really?" Skidmore said carelessly. "Ill wind that blows nobody good,
Catesby. I may be overcautious, but I much prefer a carriage to myself.
And my people prefer it, too.
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