Benny and the Bank Robber

by Mary C. Findley

Chapter One: A Robbery

  Benny leaned against the post. He scuffed the toe of his shoe along the edge of the platform. He did it again, noting the new scratch that decorated the already well-scuffed inside edge of his right shoe. Shoe leather didn't seem to be dear anymore. It was completely beyond reach. Benny had outgrown these shoes more than a month ago but no amount of scuffing could persuade his mother that they needed replacing. He tried to wiggle his pinched toes but it was no use. He crossed his arms to hide his fraying jacket cuffs and too-short sleeves and tried to suppress his growling stomach. Benny stared at the front of the train station in Hollidaysburg, Pennsylvania. Sixteen split boards high. People crowded past him. Eight rough-cut log posts like the one he leaned against held up the walkway cover.

  He had been trying to get the number of the planks in the boardwalk beneath his feet but people kept crowding by and making him lose count. Women with crying babies, ragged, gaunt men, foreigners trying to understand what the train schedule was, impatient porters trying to finish loading the baggage cars. At one time Benny had looked forward to chances to see new people and places. But this place didn't interest him. It was just a stop to change from the horse-drawn canal barges to the railroad that went to Johnstown.

  Benny had turned his back on the tiny, primitive train engine and its few pitiful cars, so unlike the real trains in Philadelphia. Hollidaysburg was just more distance between Benny and everything he had ever known or cared about. Now they were about halfway to Pittsburgh after the slow, difficult trip up the Cumberland River and the Juniata River Canal on horse-drawn barges. The train from Philadelphia to Columbia hadn't been too bad. But the barges were so slow and crowded with boxes and bales and people.

  Benny had learned about canals and locks in school. But the experience of going through a hundred and eight locks was a lesson no schoolbook could have taught him. Ahead of them were ten miles of uphill and downhill train travel to Johnstown. After that they would get back on barges to Pittsburgh and on to Cleveland, Ohio. His mother had gone to buy something while they waited for the train.

  A man pushed past him. He got a tighter hold on the beautiful wooden model of the U.S.S. Constitution he held. Benny saw a white and red stick of candy peeking out of the man's breast pocket and he shrank up against the post and shut his eyes. He caught a whiff of peppermint as the man breezed by.

  "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." Benny wasn't sure what had made him think of that Bible verse again. It had been such a long time since the cart accident. Such a long time since Benny had even thought of what peppermint sticks smelled or tasted like. He wondered if he could even eat one now.

  "If you're with us, God, why does my mother look so sad all the time?" Benny whispered. "Where's all our furniture gone? It just disappeared piece by piece! Why did mother fire Mrs. Baggins and do all the cooking and cleaning herself? What's happened to my father's books and our black two-wheeler and Clem? Just when are You going to start taking care of us, God?"

  The man who had passed Benny certainly didn't remind him much of his father. Benny guessed that a grownup would have called him handsome, shorter and more athletically-built than Jonathan Richardson, with a fine set of brown sideburns and brown eyes that looked everywhere and always seemed to be watching out for something. He walked very straight and looked as if he were proud of himself and very happy about something. He dressed like a businessman, plain and neat, but with a few little surprising and pleasing extra touches like a bright yellow silk handkerchief and a matching tie. He smiled up at the man loading baggage as he swung a fat, black leather bag up to him.

  "Evenin', Mr. Carlisle," the baggage man said, tipping his flat blue cap to the young man. He had his blue uniform coat off and the sleeves of his coarse white shirt rolled up. Sweat poured off his face and he wiped his forehead against his sleeve. "More important stuff for the Pittsburgh Bank, eh?"

  "Oh, very important stuff, Abe," laughed the man. His voice was nice to listen to, warm and friendly. "Careful, it's heavy this time."

  "Oof!" The man almost dropped the bag. He adjusted his grip and carefully wedged the bag into place with the other luggage. "I guess it's heavy! It wouldn't be full of gold, would it?"

  "If it were, Abe, I'd be riding along with it!" Mr. Carlisle laughed. "Good evening to you, my friend." He waved as he turned back the way he had come.

  "Workin' late again?" Abe shook his head. "Reckon you'll end up president of that bank some day. You'll go far, anyhow."

  "I sure hope to go far," Mr. Carlisle chuckled. He shook Abe's hand heartily and turned away. In spite of himself Benny watched as he crossed the rutted dirt street and disappeared into the Oppenheimer Bank and Trust Company directly across from the station. Everybody who passed him got a friendly hello and a big smile, a tip of the hat, a quick lift under the elbow for the ladies struggling to climb to the boardwalk with an armload of packages. Benny remembered how friendly his father had been to everyone. He turned away from staring at the bank doors and looked up and down the street. No blue gingham dress or straw bonnet in sight.

  Where was his mother? His stomach growled again. They hadn't eaten anything all day. After a few minutes, the train whistle blew and Benny got shoved again. This time he did fall off the platform. He hit the train car with his shoulder to keep from damaging the Constitution model. People behind Benny muttered and shouted at the man in the fine black suit and top hat. As Benny climbed back onto the platform he smelled peppermint again but couldn't tell where it came from. The man pushed his way through the crowd with a silver-tipped walking stick, seemingly trying to protect his shiny black hair from getting mussed. He also had a black moustache with a little pointed black beard, a silver watch chain, and what looked like a diamond pin in his necktie. Benny noticed that he carried a big black bag. It looked a lot like the one Mr. Carlisle had put on the train.

  "Outta my way!" snarled the fine gentleman. "Outta my way! I gotta getta something queek, queeek, eh? I missa da train if I no makea it back inna time!"

  Everyone was already trying hard to get out of his way. He disappeared from sight and everyone sighed with relief. Finally Benny saw his mother coming. He had begun to worry about missing the train himself as the whistle blew again. His mother's dress was kind of wrinkled from all the traveling they had done. Her blond hair had slipped out from under the bonnet Mrs. Souder, the pastor's wife, had given her before they had left Philadelphia.

  Benny missed the fancy little hats his mother had made for herself from little bits of ribbon and silk flowers. They hadn't cost much money, she had always said, and they had been very pretty and gotten her lots of compliments, but they too had vanished after his father died.

  "Hello, darling," she said and took his hand. "Let's get on board. I got some lovely bread and cheese for supper."

  "Bread and cheese again?" Benny grumbled. He freed his hand and climbed up into the train car. He flopped down by the opposite window and rubbed his shoe hard against the leg of the seat opposite him, making a big gouge in the worn leather. Suddenly he realized his mother couldn't get aboard the train with her big skirts and her basket and a man was helping her. Benny felt guilty. He should have helped her himself but it was too late now. It was still hard to remember that he was supposed to take care of his mother now.

  Abe, the man who had been loading the baggage, closed the door of their car as he struggled back into his blue coat, brass buttons rippling and catching the sunlight. The steam blew out along the tracks. Benny guessed the man in black would miss his ride after all. The train started to move with a jerk. Just as quickly it jerked to a stop again with a squeal of brakes. Benny heard a lot of shouting and running outside.

  "What's happening?" Benny's mother asked a man who sat next to the opposite window.

  "Dunno, ma'am," he said. "There're people running inta the bank. Can't tell what they're yellin' about." The man across from him opened the door and hung out.

  "Somebody's been killed … No … Bank's bee
n robbed …" He got all the way out and disappeared from view. A few minutes later he got back in. "There's stuff all tore up in the back office of the bank. An' there's – beg pardon, ma'am – there's blood all over the place." Benny closed his eyes to try to shut out the vision of a face, red and white, that still came too often to his mind. "– Pile a' gold gone too. Ten thousand dollars, they think. Stolen right here in broad daylight. Feller that works there is missin'."

  Benny remembered that the train porter had said that Mr. Carlisle would be working late at the bank. Of course it was past time for the bank to be closed for the day. No one else would be there. If someone had been at the bank, alone, working, and had been attacked when the bank was robbed, there was only one person it could be.

  Benny suddenly saw someone lying on the ground in the rain, a white face with red streaks. Only it wasn't his father. It was a man with fine brown sideburns and a yellow necktie. A man who had been friendly and happy and nice to everyone. Benny shuddered and shut out the thought. The train jerked again and they rumbled off. Benny wondered about the foreign man in black. He looked out the window but didn't see him anywhere as the train chugged slowly out of town. Benny pictured the man knocking poor Abe in the head with his walking stick because he had missed his train and almost made himself smile. Almost.