ch we had thus far made toward accomplishing the capture of
the perpetrators of this crime. Of Thomas Duncan, however, I had learned
comparatively little, and of his movements still less; and yet, at
times, I found myself indulging in feelings of sympathy for the young
man, who had so recklessly and inconsiderately thrown away the best
chances of his life. Of a careless disposition and inclined to folly, I
was convinced that until this time he had never stooped to commit a
crime. This was his first flagrant violation of the law, and when I
thought of him a hunted fugitive, seeking to hide himself from the
vigilant eyes of the officers of the law, and of the quiet, peaceful and
happy home of his parents, I could not repress a feeling of regret and
sorrow for the wayward youth in this, the hour of his humiliation and
trial. Far different from Eugene Pearson, who had no cares and no
temptations to commit crimes, and who had practiced a scheme of vile
deception and ingratitude for years, Thomas Duncan had been found in a
moment of weakness and desperation, and under the influence of wily
tempters, had yielded himself up to their blandishments, and had done
that which had made him a felon. As to Eugene Pearson, the trusted,
honored and respected official of the bank, who had deliberately planned
and assisted in this robbery of his best friends, I had no words of
palliation for his offenses; but for "Tod" Duncan, the weak and tempted
victim of designing men and adverse circumstances, I experienced a sense
of sympathy which I could not easily shake off.

Where was he now? Perhaps hiding in the forests of the far west, amid
the barbaric scenes of savage life; perhaps giving himself up to a
reckless life of dissipation, seeking in the delirium of intoxication a
forgetfulness of the deed he had committed, and of the consequences
which must befall him. How many long, weary nights since he fled from
Geneva, with his ill-gotten booty, had he, even in the midst of a
bacchanalian revel, started suddenly, as if in fear of the officer he so
much dreaded, and then with a boastful laugh drank deeper to drown the
agonies that oppressed him? Perhaps, on the other hand, the first step
taken, the rest had come easy and without effort, and he had already
become hardened and reckless. Whatever might be the case, we were as yet
uninformed, and operative John Manning arrived in Sioux City with no
definite clew to the missing man.

Seeking, as be