Benny and the Bank Robber

by Mary C. Findley

Chapter Three: "He'll Go Far."

  Mr. Clancy was just getting up when Benny returned to the room they shared.

  "Aahh, I thought it was all a nightmare," he groaned. "Don't tell me that barge is really at the bottom of the river, and I really have to take you to Missouri?"

  Benny didn't answer. He fingered the Bible, which his mother had insisted he take with him. Mr. Clancy looked at it and curled his lip. "Oh, no, not a religious nut," he said. "Worse and worse. It's got to be a nightmare. I won't stand for any preaching. No, sir. You can save your pearls for the swine down on the farm. Don't waste 'em on me." Benny remembered what the doctor had said about Mr. Clancy needing someone to preach to him. But how could he, if Mr. Clancy was going to refuse to listen?

  Benny sat watching while the man put his freckles and red wig back on. The difference it made in his looks was amazing. Mr. Clancy talked in his funny Irish accent while they ate breakfast in the hotel dining room. He was friendly to everyone, and got lots of praise for helping a poor orphan boy out of his troubles. Some people got together old clothes for Benny and some outfits for Mr. Clancy too in a battered suitcase. Men gave him money for the trip, and women brought baskets of food to eat along the way. Everyone treated Mr. Clancy like a hero and he loved all the attention. He patted Benny on the head and called him, "me poor boy." He even got some of the women crying with his promises to be good to the poor orphan. He made a speech about honoring his mother's dying wish. Benny liked him less and less. He sounded so phony.

  After breakfast Mr. Clancy led him quickly away from town and out into the countryside. Soon they came alongside of the Conemaugh River.

  "Aren't we headed back east?" Benny asked. "The hotel manager said to go the other way."

  "I told you not to give me trouble, boy, and that means don't ask a lot of questions," Mr. Clancy growled. His friendly, happy Irish ways had vanished. It was like a thunderstorm coming up suddenly over a sunny blue sky.

  It was pretty, green, and quiet out in the country, Benny had to admit. They walked a long time, though, far into the afternoon, before Mr. Clancy even stopped for a quick lunch. Benny knew Mr. Clancy was brooding about being stuck taking him to Missouri, and he didn't want to make him more angry, but he was getting awfully tired and thirsty. Mr. Clancy didn't even answer when he asked where they were going.

  It was almost dark when Mr. Clancy startled Benny by whistling. He was even more surprised to hear a horse whinny off in the distance somewhere. Mr. Clancy smiled and began to walk even faster. Benny could hardly keep up with him. At last Mr. Clancy led him into a little clearing and Benny saw a beautiful black stallion tied to a fallen log. The horse tossed his head and rubbed his nose under Mr. Clancy's hand as he came up to him. Mr. Clancy gave him a piece of a peppermint stick and patted his neck.

  "Hello, Black Switch," he said. "I know I promised you —"

  "I thought you said your horse broke its leg," Benny interrupted. Mr. Clancy looked at him.

  "Don't think so much," he warned. "Just take what comes and be thankful." He took a step away from the horse. Suddenly the stallion plunged forward and reared into the air. He screamed and struck at Benny. If Mr. Clancy had not held him back he could easily have killed Benny.

  "The horse trader didn't want to sell me that mean-tempered black stallion of his that nobody could ride. I got him cheap because nobody knew I'd been sneaking into the stable every night and training him so no one could ride him but me. This horse is just full of tricks," Mr. Clancy warned. "Most of them aren't nice. So mind your manners."

  Benny watched as Mr. Clancy began to load their things onto the horse. His heart pounded when he remembered the stallion's terrifying lunge. Suddenly his earlier question came back to him.

  "How come you stopped the barge if you already had a good horse? And why were you hiding that black bag under your saddle?" He kept talking, so fast that Mr. Clancy couldn't have answered his questions if he had wanted to. And he certainly didn't seem to want to.

  "It looked just like the bag Mr. Carlisle put on the train – and the one that man in the black suit was carrying. What was in all those bags? Or – was that you pretending to be somebody else again? Were you the one that killed that man at the bank and stole the money?"

  Mr. Clancy had been staring at him all this time without moving. Suddenly he jumped forward and grabbed Benny. He covered Benny's mouth with one hand and with the other pulled out a big, long knife. Holding Benny so tight it hurt, he laid the knife up against his throat and whispered in his ear.

  "I guess you do get to go along with me, after all, Benny my boy," he hissed. "But somehow I don't think we'll make it to Uncle Tom's. The chickens'll be so disappointed."

  Benny woke up feeling cramped and cold. He lay on some dry grass at the bottom of a kind of canyon. He was really only half-awake and wondered why something seemed to be pressing against his mouth. But when he tried to move and found his hands and feet tied, he quickly came wide awake.

  He was bound and gagged, and he remembered that Mr. Clancy, who was supposed to be taking him to his uncle's farm, had done it. Benny was alone in the canyon, completely helpless, surrounded by a circle of stickers and brush. Dawn was just breaking.

  Benny tried to work himself free, but the ropes hurt too much and he had to stop. He wondered if the piles of briars were to keep him from getting away, or to keep animals from getting at him. Neither thought was very comforting. He couldn't shout for help, and dirt and grit got into his clothes, as well as stickers, when he tried again to free himself. Sore and tired, he lay still. The sound of a horse's hooves roused him after some time, and he tried to make his muffled cries loud enough to be heard.

  "Hang on, Sonny, I'll be right down," called a voice. Benny was so relieved he started to cry. The man got off his horse and cleared the brush piles out of the way. Benny saw a tan hat and a droopy brown moustache. His tears made it hard to see, and it took a moment before he realized that the man was Mr. Clancy.

  "Hope you haven't been too uncomfortable," chuckled Mr. Clancy, pulling Benny roughly up into a sitting position. He took the bandanna off Benny's mouth, but the cocky smile faded off his face when he saw that Benny was crying.

  "Oh, come on, now, Kid, I couldn't take a chance on you running away while I was off in Blairsville, could I?" He took out his long knife. Benny tried to scoot away from him, but fell over.

  "I'm not going to hurt you," exclaimed Mr. Clancy. He grabbed Benny and cut his hands free. "Now sit up, and I'll fix some breakfast."

  Benny felt full of pain and fear. Mr. Clancy was silent as he built a campfire and got out a coffeepot and frying pan from the saddlebags on his horse. After the coffee and bacon were on the fire, he handed Benny a piece of bread. Automatically, Benny bowed his head to pray.

  "What're you doing?" Mr. Clancy asked sharply.

  "Thanking God for the food," Benny answered.

  "You better thank me for the food, Sonny," snorted Mr. Clancy. "And thank me that you're even alive. I wish I had the nerve to cut your throat. You're going to be big trouble for me. What am I supposed to do with you?"

  He turned away to look after the food and Benny noticed a newspaper lying beside him. The headline said, "Mystery Bank Robber Steals Ten Thousand in Gold, Murders Bank Employee." The story was about the bank in Hollidaysburg. On the page was a drawing that Benny recognized as being Mr. Jeremy Carlisle from the bank. The article said that he had been killed in the bank robbery, though his body hadn't been found.

  Benny scooted over to try to read more. Mr. Clancy turned around then and Benny took a deep, sharp breath. His hair was brown now, as it had been in the hotel room. He wore that fake moustache and hadn't shaved. But there was no doubt in Benny's mind.

  "You're that Mr. Carlisle from the bank! I saw you put that big bag on the train."

  Mr. Clancy – Jeremy Carlisle – burst out laughing. "Are you sure your daddy wasn't a detective? Let me make sure you've got it all straight." He handed Benny a cup of coffee
and a tin plate with bacon on it, then settled back comfortably with his own breakfast. "Yes, my name is Jeremy Carlisle. For five years I worked at Oppenheimer's Bank as a faithful and trusted employee. I was friends with most everybody in town. 'There's that nice, honest, hardworking young Carlisle fellow. He'll go far in life,'" he said in a cracked, wheezy voice, and laughed again.

  "I told you I used to be an actor, right? Well, these last five years were my greatest performance. I fooled everyone. On that day you saw me I put ten thousand dollars in gold into my fat black bag. I took it out in plain sight of everyone to give it to the baggage man on the train. No one thought anything about it, because I'd put black bags on the train lots of times."

  He paused for a few moments to eat, glancing at Benny to see what his reaction was to his story and seeming to enjoy his amazement. "Then I went back into the bank, messed things up, and sprinkled some chicken blood around. I changed myself into a fine Italian gentleman who missed the train, also carrying a big black bag.

  "If anybody started looking for the murderer of poor Mr. Carlisle, there was that mysterious foreigner who was in such a hurry to get out of town. Funny thing, though, how he disappeared into the woods on that pretty black horse he'd stolen from his victim. I hid Black Switch and changed into John Clancy to catch the barge with my empty saddle. The bag I had was full of rocks, and I meant to switch it with the one with the money and be on my way."

  Jeremy stopped smiling suddenly, and Benny was afraid of the look on his face. He threw his last bit of coffee into the fire and made it hiss. "But the bag of gold and the bag of rocks are both at the bottom of this river with the barge now. Ten thousand dollars sunk in the mud. And my great performance got me nothing but a fancy horse and a boy who's a whole lot smarter than is good for him." He scowled at Benny. "What am I going to do with you?"

  "You took my mother's money," Benny said in a very small voice. "You took the doctor's money too. All those people in town gave you money and food and clothes. You were supposed to take care of me." Even going to Uncle Tom's didn't seem like such a bad thing right at the moment.

  "What did she have to say that for?"

  "S-say what?" Benny stammered. "Who do you mean?"

  "That mother of yours. Dr. Marsh said she told him God brought me your way when you needed help. Why'd she say that? God never bothered me before, and I never bothered Him. I was going out west to start a gambling casino. I was going to be rich for the rest of my life. Look what comes of being a hero! Why couldn't God just leave me alone?"

  "Maybe He wanted you to know that you were sinning," Benny said, still afraid, but feeling he ought to say what he believed. "God wants people to repent of their sin and ask Jesus to save them."

  "You sure your daddy was a teacher? I think he must've been a preacher. I guess I'm supposed to tell God I'm sorry now. Well, I'm not. I'm real sorry about losing the money. And I sure wish you hadn't got messed up in this."

  "Well, what are you going to do about me, then?" snapped Benny. "Aren't you going to kill me? If I get away I'll have to tell people the truth about what you did. It would be just like lying if I didn't."

  "I've never killed anybody." Jeremy looked away. "I've stolen things lots of times, but I don't think I could kill anybody. I guess you'll just have to come along with me for now."