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diff --git a/15903-h/15903-h.htm b/15903-h/15903-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eb2b340 --- /dev/null +++ b/15903-h/15903-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8484 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Bart Stirling's Road To Success, by Allen Chapman. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Bart Stirling's Road to Success, by Allen Chapman + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Bart Stirling's Road to Success + Or; The Young Express Agent + +Author: Allen Chapman + +Release Date: May 25, 2005 [EBook #15903] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BART STIRLING'S ROAD TO SUCCESS *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Ed Casulli and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> +<img src="images/frontis-a.jpg" alt="A PIECE OF ROPE WAS LOOPED DEFTLY ABOUT BART'S ARMS. +Bart Stirling's Road to Success Page 217" title="" style="height: 32em;" /> +<br /> +<span class="caption">A PIECE OF ROPE WAS LOOPED DEFTLY ABOUT BART'S ARMS. +<br /> +Bart Stirling's Road to Success Page 217</span> +</div> + +<h1>BART STIRLING'S +ROAD TO SUCCESS</h1> + +<h4>Or</h4> + +<h2>The Young Express Agent</h2> + +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>ALLEN CHAPMAN</h2> + +<p style="text-align: center;">AUTHOR OF "THE HEROES OF THE SCHOOL," "NED WILDING'S<br /> +DISAPPEARANCE," "FRANK ROSCOE'S SECRET," "FENN<br /> +MASTERSON'S DISCOVERY," "BART KEENE'S<br /> +HUNTING DAYS," ETC., ETC.</p> + +<p style="text-align: center;">NEW YORK</p> +<p style="text-align: center;">CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY</p> +<p style="text-align: center;">1908</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h3>THE BOYS' POCKET LIBRARY</h3> + +<h4>BY ALLEN CHAPMAN</h4> + +<p style="text-align: center;">Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume,<br /> +35 cents, postpaid.</p> + +<p style="text-align: center;">THE HEROES OF THE SCHOOL<br /> +NED WILDING'S DISAPPEARANCE<br /> +FRANK ROSCOE'S SECRET<br /> +FENN MASTERSON'S DISCOVERY<br /> +BART KEENE'S HUNTING DAYS<br /> +BART STIRLING'S ROAD TO SUCCESS<br /> +WORKING HARD TO WIN<br /> +BOUND TO SUCCEED<br /> +THE YOUNG STOREKEEPER<br /> +NED BORDEN'S FIND</p> + +<p style="text-align: center;">CUPPLES & LEON CO, Publishers, New York</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>BART STIRLING'S ROAD TO SUCCESS</h2> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> + <a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I</b></a> THE THIRD OF JULY<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II</b></a> "WAKING THE NATIVES"<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III</b></a> COUNTING THE COST<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV</b></a> BLIND FOR LIFE<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V</b></a> READY FOR BUSINESS<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI</b></a> GETTING "SATISFACTION"<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII</b></a> WAITING FOR TROUBLE<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII</b></a> THE YOUNG EXPRESS AGENT<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX</b></a> COLONEL JEPTHA HARRINGTON<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X</b></a> QUEER COMRADES<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI</b></a> "FORGET IT!"<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER XII</b></a> THE MYSTERIOUS MR. BAKER<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII</b></a> "HIGHER STILL!"<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV</b></a> MRS. HARRINGTON'S TRUNK<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>CHAPTER XV</b></a> AN EARLY "CALL"<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>CHAPTER XVI</b></a> AT FAULT<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>CHAPTER XVII</b></a> A FAINT CLEW<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><b>CHAPTER XVIII</b></a> A DUMB FRIEND<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIX"><b>CHAPTER XIX</b></a> FOOLING THE ENEMY<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XX"><b>CHAPTER XX</b></a> BART ON THE ROAD<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXI"><b>CHAPTER XXI</b></a> A LIMB OF THE LAW<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXII"><b>CHAPTER XXII</b></a> BART STIRLING, AUCTIONEER<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII"><b>CHAPTER XXIII</b></a> "GOING, GOING, GONE!"<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV"><b>CHAPTER XXIV</b></a> MR. BAKER'S BID<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXV"><b>CHAPTER XXV</b></a> A NIGHT MESSAGE<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI"><b>CHAPTER XXVI</b></a> ON THE MIDNIGHT EXPRESS<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII"><b>CHAPTER XXVII</b></a> LATE VISITORS<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII"><b>CHAPTER XXVIII</b></a> THIRTY SECONDS OF TWELVE<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX"><b>CHAPTER XXIX</b></a> BROUGHT TO TIME<br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXX"><b>CHAPTER XXX</b></a> "STILL HIGHER!"<br /> + </p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> + + +<h1>BART STIRLING'S ROAD TO +SUCCESS</h1> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + + +<h3>THE THIRD OF JULY</h3> + + +<p>"You can't go in that room."</p> + +<p>"Why can't I?"</p> + +<p>"Because that's the orders; and you can't smoke +in this room."</p> + +<p>Bart Stirling spoke in a definite, manly fashion.</p> + +<p>Lemuel Wacker dropped his hand from the +door knob on which it rested, and put his pipe in +his pocket, but his shoulders hunched up and his +unpleasant face began to scowl.</p> + +<p>"Ho!" he snorted derisively, "official of the +company, eh? Running things, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I am—for the time being," retorted Bart, +cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Wacker, with an ugly sidelong +look, "I don't take insolence from anyone with the +big head. I reckon ten year's service with the +B. & M. entitles a man to know his rights."</p> + +<p>"Very active service just now, Mr. Wacker?" +insinuated Bart pleasantly.</p> + +<p>Lem Wacker flushed and winced, for the +pointed question struck home.</p> + +<p>"I don't want no mistering!" he growled. +"Lem's good enough for me. And I don't take +no call-down from any stuck-up kid, I want you +to understand that."</p> + +<p>"You'd better get to the crossing if you're +making any pretense of real work," suggested Bart +just then.</p> + +<p>As he spoke Bart pointed through the open +window across the tracks to the switch shanty at +the side of the street crossing.</p> + +<p>A train was coming. Mr. Lemuel Wacker was +"subbing" as extra for the superannuated old +cripple whose sole duty was to wave a flag as +trains went by. To this duty Wacker sprang +with alacrity.</p> + +<p>Bart dismissed the man from his mind, and, +whistling a cheery tune, bent over the book in +which he had been writing for the past twenty +minutes.</p> + +<p>This was the register of the local express office +of the B. & M., and at present, as Bart had said, +he was "running it."</p> + +<p>The express shed was a one-story, substantial +frame building having two rooms. It stood in +the center of a network of tracks close to the +freight depot and switch tower, and a platform ran +its length front and rear.</p> + +<p>Framed by the window an active railroad panorama +spread out, and beyond that view the quaint +town of Pleasantville.</p> + +<p>Bart had spent all his young life here. He +knew every nook and corner of the place, and +nearly every man, woman and child in the village.</p> + +<p>Pleasantville did not belie its name to Bart's +way of thinking. He voted its people, its surroundings, +and life in general there, as pleasant as +could well be.</p> + +<p>Here he was born, and he had found nothing +to complain of, although he was what might be +called a poor boy.</p> + +<p>There were his mother, his two sisters and two +small brothers at home, and sometimes it took a +good deal to go around, but Bart's father had a +steady job, and Bart himself was an agreeable, +willing boy, just at the threshold of doing something +to earn a living and wide-awake for the earliest +opportunity.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stirling had been express agent for the +B. & M. for eight years, and was counted a reliable, +efficient employee of the company.</p> + +<p>For some months, however, his health had not +been of the best, and Bart had been glad when +he was impressed into service to relieve his father +when laid up with his occasional foe, the rheumatism, +or to watch the office at mealtimes.</p> + +<p>Bart was on duty in this regard at the present +time. It was about five in the afternoon, but it +was also the third of July, and that date, like the +twenty-fourth of December, was the busiest in the +calendar for the little express office.</p> + +<p>All the afternoon Bart had worked at the desk +or helped in getting out packages and boxes for +delivery.</p> + +<p>A little handcart was among the office equipment, +and very often Bart did light delivering. +On this especial day, however, in addition to the +regular freight, Fourth of July and general picnic +and celebration goods more than trebled the usual +volume, and they had hired a local teamster to +assist them.</p> + +<p>With the 4:20 train came a new consignment. +The back room was now nearly full of cases of +fruit, a grand boxed-up display of fireworks for +Colonel Harrington, the village magnate, another +for a local club, some minor boxes for private +family use, and extra orders from the city for the +village storekeepers.</p> + +<p>It was an unusual and highly inflammable heap, +and when tired Mr. Sterling went home to snatch +a bite of something to eat, and lazy Lem Wacker +came strolling into the place, pipe in full blast, +Bart had not hesitated to exercise his brief authority. +A spark among that tinder pile would mean +sure and swift destruction. Besides, light-fingered +Lem Wacker was not to be trusted where things +lay around loose.</p> + +<p>So Bart had squelched him promptly and properly. +The man for whom "Lem" was good +enough, was in his opinion pretty nearly good for +nothing.</p> + +<p>Bart made the last entry in the register with +a satisfied smile and strolled to the door stretching +himself.</p> + +<p>"Everything in apple-pie order so far as the +books go," he observed. "I expect it will be +big hustle and bustle for an hour or two in the +morning, though."</p> + +<p>Lem Wacker came slouching along. It was +six o'clock, the quitting hour. Lem was always +on time on such occasions. The whistle from +the shops had ceased echoing, and, his dinner +pail on his arm and filling his inevitable pipe, he +paused for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Going to shut up shop?" he inquired with +affected carelessness.</p> + +<p>"I am going home, if that's what you mean," +replied Bart—"as soon as my father comes."</p> + +<p>"Not feeling very well lately, eh?" continued +Lem, his eyes roving in a covetous way over the +cozy office and the comfortable railroad armchair +Mr. Stirling used. "No wonder, he takes it too +hard."</p> + +<p>"Does he?" retorted Bart.</p> + +<p>"You bet he does. Wish I had his job. I'd +make people wait to suit my ideas. How's the +company to know or care if you break your neck +to accommodate people? Too honest, too."</p> + +<p>"A man can't be too honest," asserted Bart.</p> + +<p>"Can't he? Say, I'm an old railroader, I am, +and I know the ropes. Why, when I was running +the express office at Corydon, we sampled +everything that came in. Crate of bananas—we +had many a lunch, apples, cigars, once in a while +a live chicken, and always a couple of turkeys at +holiday time."</p> + +<p>"And who paid for them?" inquired Bart +bluntly.</p> + +<p>"We didn't, and no questions asked."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid your ideas will not make much +impression on my father, if that is what you are +getting at," observed Bart, turning unceremoniously +from Wacker.</p> + +<p>"Humph! you fellows ought to run a backwoods +post office," disgustedly grunted the latter, +as he made off.</p> + +<p>Bart had only to wait ten minutes when his +father appeared. Except for a slight limp and +some pallor in his face, Mr. Stirling seemed in +his prime. He had kindly eyes and was always +pleasant and smiling, even when in pain.</p> + +<p>"Well! well!" he cried briskly, with a gratified +glance at his son after looking over the register, +"all the real hard work is done, the work that +always worries me, with my poor eyesight. Come +up to the paymaster, young man! There's an +advance till salary day, and well you've earned it."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stirling took some money from his pocket. +There was a silver dollar and some loose change. +Bart looked pleased, then quite grave, and he put +his hand resolutely behind him.</p> + +<p>"I can't take it, father," he said. "You have +a hard enough time, and I ought to pay you for +the experience I'm getting here instead of being +paid."</p> + +<p>"Young man," spoke Mr. Stirling with affected +sternness, but a twinkling in his eye, "you take +your half-pay, make tracks, enjoy yourself, and +don't worry about a trifle of a dollar or two. If +you happen to drop around this way about nine +o'clock, I'll be glad of your company home."</p> + +<p>He slipped the money into Bart's pocket and +playfully pushed him through the doorway. Bart's +heart was pretty full. He was alive with tenderness +and love for this loyal, patient parent who +had not been over kindly handled by the world in +a money way.</p> + +<p>Then a dozen loud explosions over on the hill, +followed by boyish shouts of enthusiasm, made +Bart remember that he was a boy, with all a boy's +lively interest in the Fourth of July foremost in +his thoughts, and he bounded down the tracks +like a whirlwind.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>"WAKING THE NATIVES!"</h3> + + +<p>Turning the corner of the in-freight house +Bart came to a quick halt.</p> + +<p>He had nearly run down a man who sat between +the rails tying his shoe.</p> + +<p>The minute Bart set his eyes on the fellow he +remembered having seen him twice before—both +times in this vicinity, both times looking wretched, +dejected and frightened.</p> + +<p>The man started up, frightened now. He +was about forty years old, very shabby and +threadbare in his attire, his thin pale face nearly +covered with a thick shock of hair and full black +beard.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" challenged Bart promptly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's you, young Stirling," muttered the +man, the haunted expression in his eyes giving way +to one of relief.</p> + +<p>"Found a job yet?" asked Bart.</p> + +<p>"I—haven't exactly been looking for work," +responded the man, in an embarrassed way.</p> + +<p>"I should think you would," suggested Bart.</p> + +<p>"See here," spoke the man, livening up suddenly. +"I'll talk with you, because you're the +only friend I've found hereabouts. I'm in +trouble, and you can call it hiding if you like. +I'm grateful to you for the help you gave me +the other night, for I was pretty nigh starved. +But I don't think you'd better notice me much, +for I'm no good to anybody, and I hope you +won't call attention to my hanging around here."</p> + +<p>"Why should I?" inquired Bart, getting interested. +"I want to help you, not harm you. I +feel sorry for you, and I'd like to know a little +more."</p> + +<p>A tear coursed down the man's forlorn face and +he shook his head dejectedly.</p> + +<p>"You can't sleep forever in empty freight cars, +picking up scraps to live on, you know," said +Bart.</p> + +<p>"I'll live there till I find what I came to Pleasantville +to find!" cried the man in a sudden passion. +Then his emotion died down suddenly and +he fell to trembling all over, and cast hasty looks +around as if frightened at his own words.</p> + +<p>"Don't mind me," he choked up, starting suddenly +away. "I'm crazy, I guess! I know I'm +about as miserable an object as there is in the +world."</p> + +<p>Bart ran after him, drawing a quarter from his +pocket. He detained the man by seizing his arm.</p> + +<p>"See here," he said, "you take that, and any +time you're hungry just go up to the house and +tell my mother, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Bless her—and you, too!" murmured the +man, with a hoarse catch in his throat. "I'll take +the money, for I need it desperately bad, but +don't you fret—it will come back. Yes! it will +come back, double, the day I catch the man who +squeezed all the comfort out of my life!"</p> + +<p>He dashed away with a strange cry. Bart, half +decided that he was demented, watched him disappear +in the direction of a cheap eating house +just beyond the tracks, and started homewards +more or less sobered and thoughtful over the +peculiar incident.</p> + +<p>It was nearly eight o'clock when Bart got +through with his supper, did his house chores, +mended a broken toy pistol for one junior brother, +made up a list of purchases of torpedoes, baby-crackers +and punk for the other, and helped his +sisters in various ways.</p> + +<p>Bart was soon in the midst of the fray. Every +live boy in Pleasantville was in evidence about +the village pleasure grounds, the common and +the hill. Group after group greeted Bart with +excited exclamations. He was a general favorite +with the small boys, always ready to assist or advise +them, and an acknowledged leader with those +of his own age.</p> + +<p>He soon found himself quite active in devising +and assisting various minor displays of squibs, +rockets and colored lights. Then he got mixed +up in a general rush for the sheer top of the hill +amid the excited announcement that something +unusual was going on there.</p> + +<p>The crowd was met by a current of juvenile +humanity.</p> + +<p>"Run!" shouted an excited voice, "she's +going off."</p> + +<p>"No, she ain't," pronounced another scoffingly—"ain't +lighted yet—no one's got the nerve to +do it."</p> + +<p>Bart recognized the last speaker as Dale Wacker, +a nephew of Lem. He had noticed a little earlier +his big brother, Ira, a loutish, overgrown fellow +who had gone around with his hands in his pockets +sneering at the innocent fun the smaller boys +were indulging in, and bragging about his own especial +Fourth of July supply of fireworks which +were to come from some mysterious source not +clearly defined. The Wacker brothers belonged +to a crowd Bart did not train with usually, but as +Dale espied him and seized his arm energetically, +Bart did not draw away, respecting the occasion +and its courtesies.</p> + +<p>"You're the very fellow!" declared Dale.</p> + +<p>"You bet he is!" cried two others, crowding +up and slapping Bart on the back. "He won't +crawfish. Give him the punk, Dale."</p> + +<p>The person addressed extended a lighted piece +of punk.</p> + +<p>"Yes, take it, Stirling," he said. "Show him, +boys."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you'll have to show me," suggested +Bart significantly. "What's the mystery, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"No mystery at all," answered Dale, "only a +surprise. See it—well, it's loaded."</p> + +<p>"Clean to the muzzle!" bubbled over an excited +urchin.</p> + +<p>They were all pointing to the top of the hill. +Bart understood, for clearly outlined against the +light of the rising moon stood the grim old sentinel +that had done duty as a patriotic reminder of +the Civil War for many a year.</p> + +<p>"Old Hurricane" the relic cannon had been +dubbed when what was left of Company C, Second +Infantry, came marching back home in the +sixties.</p> + +<p>There was not a boy in town who had not +straddled the black ungainly relic, or tried to lift +the heavy cannon balls that symmetrically surrounded +its base support.</p> + +<p>Two years before, Colonel Harrington had +erected at his own expense a lofty flagpole at +the side of the cannon and donated an elegant +flag. Every Washington's Birthday and Fourth +of July since, this site had been the center of all +public patriotic festivities, and the headquarters +for celebrating for juvenile Pleasantville.</p> + +<p>Bart was a little startled as he comprehended +what was in the wind. He thrilled a trifle; his +eyes sparkled brightly.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, Stirling," assured Dale Wacker. +"We cleaned out the barrel and we've rammed +home a good solid charge, with a long fuse ready +to light. Guess it will stir up the sleepy old +town for once, hey?"</p> + +<p>Bart was in for any harmless sport, yet he +fumbled the lighted piece of punk undecidedly.</p> + +<p>"I don't know about this, fellows"—he began.</p> + +<p>"Oh! don't spoil the fun, Stirling," pleaded +little Ned Sawyer, a rare favorite with Bart. +"We asked one-legged Dacy on the quiet. He +was in the war, and he says the gun can't burst, or +anything."</p> + +<p>The crowd kept pushing Bart forward in eager +excitement.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you light it yourself?" inquired +Bart of Dale.</p> + +<p>"I've sprained my foot—limping now," explained +young Wacker. "She may kick, you +see, and soon as you light her you want to scoot."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead, Bart! touch her off," implored +little Sawyer, quivering with excitement.</p> + +<p>"Whoop! hurrah!" yelled a frantic chorus +as Bart took a voluntary step up the hill.</p> + +<p>That decided him—patriotism was in the air and +he was fully infected. One or two of the larger +boys advanced with him, but halted at a safe +distance, while the younger ones danced about +and stuck their fingers in their ears, screaming.</p> + +<p>Bart got to the side of the cannon. It was silhouetted +in the landscape on a slight slant towards +the stately mansion and grounds of Colonel Harrington, +in full view at all times of the magnate +who had improved its surroundings.</p> + +<p>Bart made out a long fuse trailing three feet or +more over the side of the old fieldpiece. He +blew the punk to a bright glow.</p> + +<p>"Ready!" he called back merrily over his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>The hillside vibrated with the flutter of expectant +juvenile humanity and a vast babel of half-suppressed +excited voices.</p> + +<p>Bart applied the punk, there was a fizz, a +sharp hiss, a writhing worm of quick flame, and +then came a fearful report that split the air like +the crack of doom.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>COUNTING THE COST</h3> + + +<p>Bart had quickly moved to one side of the cannon +after lighting the fuse, and was about twenty +feet away when the explosion came.</p> + +<p>The alarming echoes, the shock, flare and +smoke combined to give him a terrific sensation.</p> + +<p>The crowd that had retreated down the hill in +delightful trepidation now came trooping back +filled with a bolder excitement.</p> + +<p>They had indeed "waked the natives," for gazing +downhill against the lights of the street and +stores at its base they could see people rushing +outdoors in palpable agitation.</p> + +<p>Some were staring up the hill in wonder and +terror, others were starting for its summit, among +them two village officials, as demonstrated by the +silver stars they wore.</p> + +<p>"They heard it—it woke 'em up, right +enough!" shrieked little Sawyer in a frenzy +of happiness.</p> + +<p>"Look yonder!" piped a second breathless +voice. "Say, I thought I heard something +strike."</p> + +<p>Dale Wacker came upon the scene—not +limping, but chuckling and winking to the cronies +at his back.</p> + +<p>"Pretty good aim, eh, fellows?" he gloated. +"Stirling, you're a capital gunner."</p> + +<p>All eyes were now turned in a new direction—in +that whither the muzzle of the cannon was +pointed.</p> + +<p>The grounds of the Harrington mansion were +the scene of a vivid commotion. The porch lights +had been abruptly turned on, and they flooded +the lawn in front with radiance.</p> + +<p>Bart gasped, thrilled, and experienced a strange +qualm of dismay. He discerned in a flash that +something heretofore always prominently present +on the Harrington landscape was not now in +evidence.</p> + +<p>The wealthy colonel was given to "grandstand +plays," and one of them had been the placing of +a bronze pedestal and statue at the side of the +driveway.</p> + +<p>It bore the inscription "1812," and according to +the colonel, portrayed a military man life-size, +epaulettes, sword, uniform and all—his maternal +grandfather as he had appeared in the battle scene +where he had lost a limb.</p> + +<p>Now, in effigy, the valiant warrior was prostrate. +The colonel's servants were rushing to the spot +where the statue had tumbled over on the velvety +sward.</p> + +<p>"See here!"—cried Bart stormingly, turning +on Dale Wacker.</p> + +<p>"Loaded," significantly observed the latter +with a diabolical grin.</p> + +<p>A rush of keen realization made Bart +shiver. He recognized what the foolhardy +escapade might have cost had that whirling +cannon ball met a human, instead of an inanimate, +target.</p> + +<p>As it was, he easily calculated the indignation +and resentment of the haughty village magnate +who was given to outbursts of wrath which carried +all before him.</p> + +<p>"You've spoiled my Fourth," began Bart in a +tumult. "I'll spoil your—"</p> + +<p>"Cut for it, fellows! they're coming for +us!"</p> + +<p>"They" were the village officers. Bart had +made a jump towards Dale Wacker, but the latter +had faded into the vortex of pell-mell fugitives +rushing away downhill to hiding.</p> + +<p>Bart put after them, trying to single out the +author of the scurvy joke that he knew had serious +trouble at the end of it.</p> + +<p>"Hold on!" gasped a breathless voice.</p> + +<p>"Don't stop me!" shouted Bart, trying to tear +loose from a frantic grip. "Oh, it's you—what +do you want?"</p> + +<p>He halted to survey the person who detained +him—the man who haunted the freight tracks—to +whom he had given money earlier in the evening.</p> + +<p>"Come, quick!" the man panted. "Express +shed—where your father is—trouble. Don't wait—not +a minute."</p> + +<p>"See here," challenged Bart, instantly startled +into a new tremor of anxiety, "what do you +mean?"</p> + +<p>But the forlorn roustabout could not be coherent. +He continued to gasp and splutter out excited +adjectives, fragmentary sentences.</p> + +<p>"Plot—get you into trouble—father—I +heard 'em."</p> + +<p>Then as his glance fell upon the people coming +up the hill, the officers in their lead, his eyes +bulged with terror, he grasped Bart's arm, let out +an unearthly yell of fear, and by sheer force carried +Bart pell-mell down the other side of the hill +with him.</p> + +<p>"See here," panted Bart, as, still running, +they were headed in the direction of the railroad, +"my business is here. Don't you hurry me off +in this fashion unless there's something to it."</p> + +<p>"Told you—express shed—robbers!"</p> + +<p>"Robbers? You mean some one is stealing +something there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" gulped Bart's companion.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?"</p> + +<p>"Don't know."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you stop them?"</p> + +<p>"I don't dare do anything," the man wailed. +"I'm a poor, miserable object, but I'm your +friend. I heard two fellows whispering on the +tracks near the express shed. Said they were +going to steal some fireworks. I ran to the shed +to warn your father. He was asleep in his chair. +They might see me—didn't dare do anything."</p> + +<p>Bart now believed there might be some basis +to the man's statements. He plunged forward +alone, not conscious that he was outdistancing +his late companion.</p> + +<p>Reaching the tracks, Bart ran down a line of +freights. The express shed was in view at last. +It was lighted up as usual, the door stood open, +and nothing suggested anything out of the ordinary.</p> + +<p>"The fellow's cracked," reflected Bart. +"Everything looks straight here—no, it doesn't!" +He checked himself abruptly. "Here! what are +you at?"</p> + +<p>Sharp and clear Bart sang out. Approaching +the express shed from the side, his glance shifted +to the rear.</p> + +<p>The little structure had one window there, +lightly barred with metal strips. Two men stood +on the platform beneath it. One of them had +just pried a strip loose with some long implement +he held in his hand. The other had just pushed +up the sash by reaching through the convenient +aperture thus made.</p> + +<p>Bart bounded to the platform with a nimble +spring. As his feet clamped down warningly on +the boardway, the man who had pushed up the +window turned sharply.</p> + +<p>"It's young Stirling!" Bart heard him mutter. +"Drop it, and run."</p> + +<p>The speaker sprang to the ground and disappeared +around the corner of the shed with the +words.</p> + +<p>His companion, who had been stooping on +one knee in his prying operations, essayed to join +him, slipped, tilted over, and before he could recover +himself Bart was upon him.</p> + +<p>"What are you about here?" demanded the +latter.</p> + +<p>The prisoner was of man-like build and proportions. +He did not speak, and tried to keep +his features hidden from the rays of the near +switch light.</p> + +<p>"Lemme go!" he mouthed, with purposely +subdued intonation.</p> + +<p>"Not till I know who you are—not till I find +out what you're up to," declared Bart. "Turn +around here. I'll stick closer than a brother till +I see that face of yours!"</p> + +<p>He swung his captive towards the light, but a +broad-peaked cap and the partial disguise of a +crudely blackened face defeated his purpose.</p> + +<p>Bart was about to shout to his father in front, +or to his roustabout friend, whom he expected must +be somewhere near by this time, when his captive +gave a jerk, tore one arm free, and whirled the +other aloft.</p> + +<p>His hand clenched the implement he had used +to pry away the bars, and Bart now saw what +it was.</p> + +<p>The object the mysterious robber was utilizing +for burglarious purposes, was the signal flag used +at the switch shanty where Lem Wacker had been +doing substitute duty that day.</p> + +<p>It consisted of a three foot iron rod, sharpened +at the end. At the blunt end the strip of red flag +was wound, near the sharp end the conventional +track torpedo was held in place by its +tin strap.</p> + +<p>"Lemme go"; again growled the man.</p> + +<p>"Never!" declared Bart.</p> + +<p>The man's left arm was free, and he swung the +iron rod aloft. Bart saw it descending, aimed +straight for his head. If he held on to the man +he could scarcely evade it.</p> + +<p>He let go his grip, ducked, made a pass to grasp +the burglar's ankle, but missed it.</p> + +<p>An explosion, a sharp flare, a keen shock filled +the air, and before Bart could grip the man afresh +he had sprung from the platform and vanished.</p> + +<p>At the same instant the flag rod clattered to the +boards, and a second later, rubbing his face free +from sudden pricking grains of powder, Bart saw +what had happened.</p> + +<p>The blow intended for him had landed upon +one of the iron bars of the window with a force +that exploded the track torpedo.</p> + +<p>It had flared out one broad spiteful breath, +sending a shower of sparks among the big mass +of fireworks in the storage room, and amid a thousand +hissing, snapping explosions the express shed +was in flames.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>BLIND FOR LIFE</h3> + + +<p>Bart's first thought was of his father. He +instantly leaped from the platform.</p> + +<p>As he did so there was a violent explosion in +the storage room, the sashes were blown from +place outright, and Bart dodged to escape a +shower of glass.</p> + +<p>He was fairly appalled at the suddenness with +which the flames enveloped the interior, for they +shot up in every direction, and the partition dividing +the shed appeared blown from place.</p> + +<p>Rockets were fizzing, giant crackers exploding +by the pack, and colored chemicals sending out +a varied glow.</p> + +<p>Bart dashed for the front—a muffled cry caused +him to hurry his speed. His father had uttered +the cry.</p> + +<p>Dazed by the light, his eyes filled with smarting +particles of burned powder, Bart suddenly +came in violent contact with a human form just +as he turned the corner of the shed.</p> + +<p>Both nearly upset in the collision. At first +Bart fancied it might be one of the burglars, but +peering closer he recognized the friendly roustabout.</p> + +<p>"Told you so!" gasped the latter in a desperate +fluster. "Fire—I'll help you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, quick! run," breathed Bart, rushing +ahead, "My father's in that burning building!"</p> + +<p>Bart was thrilled. The main room of the express +shed was one bright blur of brilliancy and +colored smoke.</p> + +<p>It rolled and whirled, obliterating all outlines +within the room.</p> + +<p>"Father! father!" shouted Bart, dashing recklessly +in at the open doorway.</p> + +<p>He could not make out a single object in that +chaos, but he knew the location of every familiar +article in the place, and made for the chair in which +his father usually sat.</p> + +<p>"Father!" he screamed, as his hands touched +the arms of the chair and found it empty.</p> + +<p>The sulphurous flames nearly choked him, the +heat from the crackling wooden partition singed +his hair, but he could only grope about blindly.</p> + +<p>"Here he is," sounded a suffocating voice.</p> + +<p>"Where, oh! where?" panted Bart.</p> + +<p>He threw out his arms wildly, groping to locate +the speaker, whom he knew to be the roustabout. +"Where is he—where is he?"</p> + +<p>He had come in contact with the roustabout +now, who with all his timidity was proving himself +a hero in the present instance.</p> + +<p>"Lying on the floor—stumbled over him—I'm +on fire, too!"</p> + +<p>Bart's feet touched a prostrate form. It was +moved along as Bart stooped and got hold of the +shoulders.</p> + +<p>The roustabout was helping him. They +dragged together, stumbling to the doorway on +the very verge of fatal danger, and reeled across +the platform.</p> + +<p>The roustabout jumped to the ground. Once +there he gently but in a masterly way drew the inanimate +form of Mr. Stirling from the platform, +and carried him over to a pile of ties outside of the +glow and scorch of the burning express shed.</p> + +<p>Bart anxiously scanned his father's face. It was +black and blistered but he was breathing naturally.</p> + +<p>"Overcome with the smoke—or tumbled and +was stunned," declared the roustabout.</p> + +<p>Excited approaching shouts caused the speaker +to glare down the tracks. Half a dozen people +were hurrying to the scene of the fire. The roustabout +with a nervous gasp vanished in the darkness.</p> + +<p>Bart was hovering over his father in a solicitous +way as a night watchman and a freight crew appeared +on the scene. There was a volley of excited +questions and quick responses.</p> + +<p>No means of extinguishing the flames were at +hand. The newcomers suggested getting the insensible +Mr. Stirling over to the street beyond the +tracks a few hundred yards distant, where there +was a drug store.</p> + +<p>Bart ran for the hand truck on the platform, +saw two of the men start off with his father on it, +and hurried back to the burning express shed.</p> + +<p>He had hoped to save something, but one effort +drove him back, realizing the foolhardiness of repeating +the experiment. The building and its +contents were doomed.</p> + +<p>The crowd began to gather and grew with the +moments. A road official appeared on the scene. +Bart made a brief, hurried explanation and ran over +to the drug store.</p> + +<p>To his surprise his father was not there. Bart +approached the druggist to ask an anxious question +when the companion of the latter, a professional-looking +man, spoke up.</p> + +<p>"You are young Stirling, are you not?" he +interrogated.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," nodded Bart.</p> + +<p>"Don't get frightened or worried, but I am Doctor +Davis. We thought it best to send your father +to the hospital."</p> + +<p>"To the hospital!" echoed Bart turning pale. +"Then he is badly injured—"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," dissented the physician reassuringly. +"He was probably overcome by the smoke +or fell and was stunned, but that injury was trifling. +It is his eyes we are troubled about."</p> + +<p>"Tell me the worst!" pleaded Bart in a choked +tone, but trying to prepare himself for the shock.</p> + +<p>"Why, one eye is pretty bad," said the doctor, +"and the other got the full force of some powder +explosion. They have good people up at the hospital, +though, and they will soon get him to rights."</p> + +<p>"I must tell my mother at once," murmured +Bart.</p> + +<p>He left the place with a heart as heavy as lead. +It seemed as if one furious Fourth of July powder +blast had disrupted the very foundations of all the +family hopes and happiness, leaving a blackened +wreck where there had been unity, comfort and +peace.</p> + +<p>If his father was disabled seriously, their prospects +became a very grave problem. Bart, too, +was worried about the loss to the express company. +The books were probably out on the desk +when the fire commenced, the safe was open, and +the loss in money and records meant considerable.</p> + +<p>Bart felt that he was undertaking the hardest +task of his life when he reached home and broke +the news to his mother—it was like disturbing the +peace of some earthly Eden.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stirling went at once to the hospital with +her eldest daughter, Bertha. Bart, very anxious +and miserable, got the younger boys to bed and +tried to cheer up his little sister Alice, who was +in a transport of grief and suspense.</p> + +<p>The strain was relieved when Bertha Stirling +came home about eleven o'clock.</p> + +<p>She was in tears, but subdued any active +exhibition of emotion until Alice, on the assurance +that her father was resting comfortably at +the hospital, was induced to retire.</p> + +<p>Then she broke down utterly, and Bart had a +hard time keeping her from being hysterical.</p> + +<p>She said that her mother intended staying all +night at the side of her suffering husband and +had tried to send some reassuring word to her +son.</p> + +<p>"You must tell me the worst, you know, +Bertha," said Bart. "What do they say at the +hospital? Is father in serious danger? Will +he die?"</p> + +<p>"No," answered the sobbing girl, "he will +not die, but oh! Bart—the doctor says he may be +blind for life!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>READY FOR BUSINESS</h3> + + +<p>Bart Stirling stood ruefully regarding the +ruins of the burned express shed. It was the +Fourth of July, and early as it was, the air +was resonant with the usual echoes of Independance +Day.</p> + +<p>Bart, however, was little in harmony with the +jollity and excitement of the occasion. He had +spent a sleepless night, tossing and rolling in bed +until daybreak, when his mother returned from +the hospital.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stirling was resting easily, she reported, in +very little pain or discomfort, but his career of +usefulness and work was over—the doctors expressed +an opinion that he would never regain +his eyesight.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stirling was pale and sorrowed. She +had grown older in a single night, but the calm +resignation in her gentle face assured Bart that +they would be of one mind in taking up their +new burdens of life in a practical, philosophical +way.</p> + +<p>"Poor father!" he murmured brokenly. Then +he added: "Mother, I want you to go in and +get some rest, and try not to take this too hard. +I will attend to everything there is to do about +the express office."</p> + +<p>"I don't see what there can be to do," she +responded in surprise. "Everything is burned +up, your father will never be able to resume his +position. We are through with all that, I +fancy."</p> + +<p>"There is considerable to do," asserted Bart +in a definite tone that instantly attracted his +mother's attention because of its seriousness. +"Father is a bonded employee of the express +service. Their business doesn't stop because of +an accidental fire, and they have a system to look +after here that must not be neglected. I know +the ropes pretty well, thanks to father, and I +think it a matter of duty to act just as he would +were he able to be about, and further and protect +the company's interests. Outside of that, +mother," continued the boy, earnestly, "you +don't suppose I am going to sit down idly +and let things drift at haphazard, with the family +to take care of and everything to be done to +make it easy and comfortable for father."</p> + +<p>A look of pride came into the mother's face. +She completely recognized the fidelity and sense +of her loyal son, allowed Bart to lead her into the +house, and tried to be calm and cheerful when he +bade her good-bye, and, evading celebrating +groups of his boy friends, made his way down to +the ruined express shed.</p> + +<p>A heap of still smouldering cinders and ashes +marked the site. Bart stood silently ruminating +for some minutes. He tried to think things out +clearly, to decide how far he was warranted in +acting for his father.</p> + +<p>"I don't exactly know what action the express +people usually take in a case of this kind," he reflected, +"nor how soon they get about it. I can +only wait for some official information. In the +meantime, though, somebody has got to keep the +ball rolling here. I seem to be the only one +about, and I am going to put the system in some +temporary order at least. If I'm called down +later for being too officious, they can't say I didn't +try to do my duty."</p> + +<p>Bart set briskly at work to put into motion +a plan his quick, sensible mind had suggested.</p> + +<p>About one hundred feet away was a rough unpainted +shed-like structure. He remembered the +time, several years back, when the express office +had been located there.</p> + +<p>It was, however, forty feet from any tracks, and +for convenience sake, when the railroad gave +up the burned building which they had occupied +for unclaimed freight storage, it had been turned +over to the express people.</p> + +<p>Bart went down to the old quarters. The door +had lost its padlock and stood half open. Inside +was a heap of old boards, and empty boxes and +barrels thrown there from time to time to keep +them from littering the yards.</p> + +<p>A truck and the little delivery cart, being outside +of the burned shed, Bart found intact. He +ran them down to the building he had determined +to utilize, temporarily at least, as express headquarters +for Pleasantville.</p> + +<p>The yards were fairly deserted except for a +sleepy night watchman here and there. It was +not yet seven o'clock, but when Bart reached the +in-freight house he found it open and one or two +clerks hurrying through their work so as to get +off for the day at ten.</p> + +<p>There was a good deal of questioning, for they +knew of the fire, and knew Bart as well, and liked +him, and when he made his wants known willing +hands ministered to his needs.</p> + +<p>Bart carried back with him a hammer and some +nails, a broom, a marking pot and brush, pens, +ink and a couple of tabs of paper.</p> + +<p>As he neared the switch shanty where Lem +Wacker had been on duty the day previous, he +noticed that it had been opened up since he +had passed it last. Some one was grumbling +noisily inside. Bart was curious for more reasons +than one.</p> + +<p>He placed his load on the bench outside +and stuck his head in through the open doorway.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's you, Mr. Evans," he hailed, as +he recognized the regular flagman on duty for +whom Wacker had been substituting for three +days past. "Glad to see you back. Are you +all well?"</p> + +<p>"Eh? oh, young Stirling. Say, you've had +a fire. I hear your father was burned."</p> + +<p>"He is quite seriously hurt," answered Bart +gravely.</p> + +<p>"Too bad. I have troubles of my own, +though."</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, Mr. Evans?"</p> + +<p>"Next time I give that lazy, good-for-nothing +Lem Wacker work he'll know it, I'm thinking! +Look there—and there!"</p> + +<p>The irate old railroader kicked over the wooden +cuspidor in disgust. It was loaded to the top +with tobacco and cigarette ends. Then he cast +out half a dozen empty bottles through the +open window, and went on with his grumbling.</p> + +<p>"What he's been up to is more than I can +guess," he vociferated. "Look at my table +there, all burned with matches and covered with +burnt cork. What's he been doing with burnt +cork? Running a minstrel show?"</p> + +<p>Bart gave a start. He thought instantly of +the black streaked face he had tried to survey at +the express shed window the night previous.</p> + +<p>"My flag's gone, too," muttered old Evans, +turning over things in a vain search for it. "I'll +have a word or two for Lem Wacker when it +comes to settling day, I'm thinking. He comes +up to the house late last night and tells me +he don't care to work for me any longer."</p> + +<p>"Did he?" murmured Bart thoughtfully. +"Why not, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he flared up big and lofty, and said he +had a better job in view."</p> + +<p>Bart went on his way surmising a good deal and +suspecting more.</p> + +<p>He made it a point to pass by the ruins of the +old express shed, and he found there what he expected +to find—the missing flag from the switch +shanty; only the rod was bare, the little piece of +red bunting having been burned away.</p> + +<p>Bart dismissed this matter from his mind and all +other disturbing extraneous affairs, massing all his +faculties for the time being on getting properly +equipped for business.</p> + +<p>He selected a clean, plain board, and with the +marking outfit painted across it in six-inch letters +that could be plainly read at a distance the words:</p> + +<p>EXPRESS OFFICE.</p> + +<p>This Bart nailed to the door jamb in such a way +that it was visible from three directions.</p> + +<p>Next he started to carry outside and pile neatly +at the blind end of the building all the boards, +boxes and other debris littering up the room, swept +it, and selected two packing cases and nailed them +up into a convenient impromptu desk, manufactured +a bench seat out of some loose boards, set +his pen, ink and paper in order, and felt quite +ready for business.</p> + +<p>He had gained a pretty clear idea the day previous +from his father as to the Fourth of July +express service routine.</p> + +<p>The fireworks deliveries had been the main +thing, but as these had been destroyed that part of +the programme was off the sheet.</p> + +<p>At eight o'clock the morning express would +bring in its usual quota, but this would be held +over until the following day except what was +marked special or perishable. There would be no +out express matter owing to the fact that it was +a holiday.</p> + +<p>"I can manage nicely, I think," Bart told himself, +as, an hour later, he ran the truck down to +the site of the burned express shed and stood by +the tracks waiting.</p> + +<p>A freight engine soon came to the spot, backing +down the express car. Its engineer halted +with a jerk and a vivid:</p> + +<p>"Hello!"</p> + +<p>He had not heard of the fire, and he stared with +interest at the ruins as Bart explained that, until +some new arrangement was made, express shipments +would be accepted and loaded by truck.</p> + +<p>There were four big freezers of ice cream, one +for delivery at the town confectioner's, one at the +drug store soda fountain, and two for the picnic +grounds, where an afternoon celebration was on +the programme. Besides these, there were three +packages containing flags and fireworks, marked +"Delayed—Rush."</p> + +<p>He closed the office door, tacked to it a +card announcing he would return inside of half +an hour, and loaded into the wagon the entire +morning's freight except the two freezers intended +for the picnic grounds.</p> + +<p>These could not be delivered until two o'clock +that afternoon, and he stowed them in the new +express shed, covering them carefully with their +canvas wrappings.</p> + +<p>Bart made a record run in his deliveries. +He had formed a rough receipt book out of +some loose sheets, and when he came back +to the office filled out his entries in regular +form.</p> + +<p>Several persons visited the place up to nine +o'clock—storekeepers and others who had lost their +goods in the fire. Bart explained the situation, +saying that they would probably hear from the express +company in a day or two regarding their +claims.</p> + +<p>He found in work something to change his +thoughts from a gloomy channel, and, while very +anxious about his father, was thankful his parent +had escaped with his life, while he indulged some +hopeful and daring plans for his own ambitions in +the near future.</p> + +<p>"I'll stick to my post," he decided. "Some +of the express people may happen down here any +time."</p> + +<p>He was making up a list from memory of those +in the village whose packages had been destroyed +by the fire, when two boys crossed the threshold of +the open doorway, one carrying a thin flat +package.</p> + +<p>Bart greeted them pleasantly. The elder was +Darry Haven, his companion a younger brother, +Bob, both warm friends of the young express +agent.</p> + +<p>Darry inquired for Mr. Stirling solicitously, and +said his mother was then on her way to see Mrs. +Stirling, anxious to do anything she could to share +the lady's troubles. Mr. Haven had been an editor, +but his health had failed, and Mrs. Haven, +having some artistic ability and experience, was +the main present support of the family, doing considerable +work for a publishing house in the city in +the way of illustrations for fashion pages.</p> + +<p>Darry had a "rush" package of illustrations +under his arm now.</p> + +<p>"I suppose we can't get anything through +to-day, or until you get things in running order +again?" he intimated.</p> + +<p>"We were sending nothing through on account +of the Fourth," explained Bart, "but you leave the +package here and I will see that it goes on the +eleven o'clock train."</p> + +<p>Bart had just completed the fire-loss list when +a heavy step caused him to turn around.</p> + +<p>A portly, well-dressed man, important-appearing +and evidently on business, stood in the doorway +looking sharply about the place.</p> + +<p>"Well!" he uttered, "What's this?"</p> + +<p>"The express office," said Bart, arising.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is?" slowly commented the man, +"You in charge?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," politely answered Bart.</p> + +<p>"Set up shop; doing business, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Fast as I can," announced Bart.</p> + +<p>"Who told you to?" demanded the visitor +bending a pair of stern eyes on Bart.</p> + +<p>"Why do you ask that, may I inquire?" interrogated +Bart, pleasantly, but standing his +ground.</p> + +<p>"Ha-hum!" retorted the stranger, "why do +ask. Because I am the superintendent of the express +company, young man, and somewhat interested +in knowing, I fancy!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>GETTING "SATISFACTION"</h3> + + +<p>Bart did not lose his presence of mind, but he +fully realized that he faced a critical moment in his +career.</p> + +<p>Very courteously he drew forward the rude impromptu +bench he had knocked together two +hours before.</p> + +<p>"Will you have a seat, sir?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The express superintendent did not lose his +dignity, but there was a slightly humorous twitching +at the corners of his mouth.</p> + +<p>"Thanks," he said, wearily seating himself on +the rude structure. "Rather primitive furniture +for a big express company, it seems to me."</p> + +<p>"It was the best I could provide under the +circumstances," explained Bart modestly.</p> + +<p>"You made this bench, did you?"</p> + +<p>Bart acknowledged the imputation with a nod.</p> + +<p>"And that—desk, is it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"And the sign outside, and opened for business?"</p> + +<p>"There was no one else on hand. I felt that +I must represent my father, Mr. Stirling, who is +the authorized agent here, until the seriousness of +his condition was known. You see, there was +business likely to come in, and I have been here +to attend to it."</p> + +<p>"Just so," vouchsafed his visitor. "No out +shipments to-day, I believe?"</p> + +<p>"No, it's a holiday, but there was some rush in +stuff on the morning express."</p> + +<p>"Where is it?"</p> + +<p>"I have delivered most of it—the balance, two +freezers of ice cream, I will attend to this afternoon. +I am keeping a record and taking receipts, +but giving none—I didn't feel warranted in that +until I heard from the company."</p> + +<p>"You have done very well, young man," said +the stranger. "I am Robert Leslie, the superintendent, +as I told you. Do you mean to say +you rigged things up in this shape and got your +deliveries out alone?"</p> + +<p>"There was no one to help me," remarked +Bart.</p> + +<p>He felt pleased and encouraged, for the superintendent's +cast-iron visage had softened considerably, +and he manifested unmistakable interest as +he reached out and took up and inspected the +neatly formulated memoranda on the packing-box +desk.</p> + +<p>"What's this?" he inquired, running over the +pages Bart had last been working on.</p> + +<p>"That is a list of losers by the fire," explained +Bart.</p> + +<p>"This is from memory?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Leslie—but I have a good one, +and I think the list is tolerably correct."</p> + +<p>"I am very much pleased," admitted the superintendent—"those +claims are our main anxiety +in a case like this. I understand the contents of +the safe were destroyed."</p> + +<p>"I fear so," assented Bart gravely. "The explosion +was so sudden, and my father was blinded, +so there was no opportunity to close it. I tried +to reach it after rescuing him, but the flames +drove me back."</p> + +<p>Mr. Leslie was silent for a few moments. He +seemed to be thinking. His glance roamed +speculatively about the place, taking in the layout +critically, then finally Bart was conscious that his +shrewd, burrowing eyes were scanning him +closely.</p> + +<p>"How old are you, Stirling?" asked the superintendent +abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Nearly nineteen."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you know something about the +routine here?"</p> + +<p>"I have helped my father a little for the past +month or two—yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"And have improved your opportunities, +judging from the common-sense way you have +got things into temporary running order," commented +Leslie.</p> + +<p>The speaker took out his watch. Then, glancing +through the doorway, he arose suddenly, with +the words:</p> + +<p>"Ah! there he is, now. I suppose you +couldn't be here about four o'clock this afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"Why, certainly," answered Bart promptly. +"People are likely to be around making inquiries, +and I have a delivery to make this afternoon, as +I told you, sir."</p> + +<p>"I intend to see your father," said Mr. Leslie, +"and I want to get back to the city to-night. I +may have some orders for you, so we'll call it +four, sharp."</p> + +<p>"I will be here, sir."</p> + +<p>The superintendent stepped outside. Evidently +he had made an appointment, for he was +met by the freight agent of the B. & M., who +knew Bart and nodded to him.</p> + +<p>As the two men strolled slowly over to the ruins +of the express shed, Bart heard Mr. Leslie remark:</p> + +<p>"That's a smart boy in there."</p> + +<p>"And a good one," supplemented the freight +agent.</p> + +<p>Bart experienced a thrill of pleasure at the +homely compliment. He tried to get back to +business, but he found himself considerably flustered.</p> + +<p>All the morning his hopes and plans had +drifted in one definite direction—to get some +assurance of permanent employment for the +future.</p> + +<p>The only work he had ever done was here at +the express office for his father. It was a daring +prospect to imagine that he, a mere boy, would +be allowed to succeed to a grown man's position +and salary—and yet Bart had placed himself in +line for it with every prompting of diligence and +duty.</p> + +<p>Mr. Leslie and the freight agent spent half an +hour at the ruins. Bart could see by their gestures +that they were animatedly discussing the +situation, and they seemed to be closely looking +over the ground with a view to locating a site for +a new express shed.</p> + +<p>Finally they shook hands in parting. The express +superintendent consulted his watch, and +turned his face in the direction of Bart.</p> + +<p>As he neared the "new" express shed, however, +he passed around to its rear, and glancing +out of a window there Bart saw that he had come +to a halt, and was drawing a diagram of the +tracks on a blank page in his memorandum book.</p> + +<p>Just as Mr. Leslie had returned this to his +pocket and was about to start from the spot, a +man hailed him. It was Lem Wacker. He +was dressed in his best, but the effort was spoiled +by an uncertainty of gait, and his face was suspiciously +flushed.</p> + +<p>"Did you address me?" inquired the superintendent +in a chilling tone.</p> + +<p>Lem was not daunted by the imposing presence +or the dignified demeanor of the speaker.</p> + +<p>"Sure," he answered, unabashed. "You're +Leslie, ain't you?"</p> + +<p>"I am Mr. Leslie, yes," corrected the superintendent, +his stern brow contracted in a frown.</p> + +<p>"They told me I'd find you here. My name's +Wacker. Knew your cousin down at Rochelle; +we worked on the same desk in the freight house. +Had many a drink with Ted Leslie."</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" challenged the superintendent, +turning on his heel.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's this way," explained the dauntless +Lem: "I'm an old railroader and a handy man of +experience, I am, and I wanted to make a proposition +to you. You see—"</p> + +<p>Bart lost the remainder of Mr. Lem Wacker's +proposition, for Mr. Leslie had started forward +impatiently, with Lem persistently following in +his wake. He was still keeping up the pursuit +and importuning the affronted official as both +were lost to view behind a track of freights.</p> + +<p>Bart of course surmised that Lem Wacker was +on the trail of the "better job" he had announced +he was after to the old switchman, Evans.</p> + +<p>"I don't think he has made a very promising +impression," decided Bart, as he got back to his +writing.</p> + +<p>"Say, you!"</p> + +<p>Bart looked up a trifle startled at the sharp +hail, ten minutes later. He had been engrossed +in his work and had not noticed an intruder.</p> + +<p>Lem Wacker stood just in the doorway. He +looked flushed, excited and vicious.</p> + +<p>"What can I do for you, Mr. Wacker?" inquired +Bart calmly, though scenting trouble in the +air.</p> + +<p>"You can undo!" flared out Wacker, "and +you'll get quick action on it, or I'll clean you out, +bag and baggage."</p> + +<p>"There isn't much baggage here to clean out," +suggested Bart humorously, "and as for the rest +of it I'll try to take care of it myself."</p> + +<p>"Oh! you will, will you?" sneered Lem, lurching +to and fro. "You're a sneak. Bart Stirling—a +low, contemptible sneak, that's what you are!"</p> + +<p>"I would like to have you explain," remarked +Bart.</p> + +<p>"You've queered me!" roared Wacker, "and +I'm going to have satisfaction—yes, sir. Sat-is-fac-tion!"</p> + +<p>He pounded out the syllables under Bart's very +nose with resounding thumps, bringing down his +fist on the impromptu office desk so forcibly that +the concussion disturbed the papers on it, and +several sheets fell fluttering to the floor.</p> + +<p>Bart's patience was tried. His eyes flashed, +but he stooped and picked up the pages and replaced +them on the dry goods box.</p> + +<p>"Don't you do that again," he warned in a +strained tone.</p> + +<p>"Why!" yelled Wacker, rolling up his cuffs.</p> + +<p>"I'll trim you next! 'Don't-do-it-again!' eh? +Boo! bah!"</p> + +<p>Lem raised his foot and kicked over the desk, +papers and all.</p> + +<p>"That's express company property," observed +Bart quietly, but his blood was up, the limit +reached. "Get out!"</p> + +<p>One arm shot forward, and the clenched muscular +fist rested directly under the chin of the astounded +Lem Wacker.</p> + +<p>"And stay out."</p> + +<p>Lem Wacker felt a smart whack, went whirling +back over the threshold, and the next instant +measured his length, sprawling on the ground +outside of the express shed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>WAITING FOR TROUBLE</h3> + + +<p>Lem Wacker rolled over, then sat up, rubbed +his head in a half-dazed manner, and muttered in +a silly, sheepish way.</p> + +<p>"Lem Wacker," said Bart, "I have got just a +few words to say to you, and that ends matters +between us. I am sorry I had to strike you, but +I will have no man interfering with the express +company's affairs. I want you to go away, and if +you ever come in here again except on business +strictly there will be trouble."</p> + +<p>Lem did not put up much of a belligerent +front, though he tried still to look ugly and +dangerous.</p> + +<p>He got his balance at last, and extended his +finger at our hero.</p> + +<p>"Bart Stirling," he maundered, "you've made +an enemy for life. Look out for me! You're +a marked man after this."</p> + +<p>"What am I marked with," inquired Bart +quickly—"burnt cork?"</p> + +<p>"Hey! What?" blurted out Lem, and Bart +saw that the shot had struck the target. Wacker +looked sickly, and muttered something to himself. +Then he took himself off.</p> + +<p>Bart's worries were pleasantly broken in upon +by the arrival of his sister Bertha. She brought +him a generous lunch, the first food Bart had +tasted that day, and his appetite welcomed it in a +wholesome way.</p> + +<p>He put in the time planning what he would do +if he was lucky enough to be retained in his +father's position, and what he might do in case +someone else was appointed.</p> + +<p>At half-past two Bart loaded the two ice cream +freezers on the cart and started for the picnic +grounds.</p> + +<p>Juvenile Pleasantville had somewhat subsided +for a time in the fervor of its patriotism. There +was a lull in the popping and banging, nearly +everybody in town being due at the time-honored +celebration in the picnic grove.</p> + +<p>When Bart reached the grove, someone was +making an address, and he piloted his way circumspectly +up to the side of the platform where the +speaking was going on.</p> + +<p>He deposited the freezers inside the bunting-decorated +inclosure, where half a dozen young +ladies were posted to dispense the refreshments +after the literary programme was finished.</p> + +<p>Bart started to return with his empty cart the +way he had come, but about ten feet from the +platform paused for a moment to take in the +exceptionally flowery sentiment that was being +enunciated by the speaker of the day.</p> + +<p>Colonel Harrington, it seemed, was the self-appointed +hero of the occasion. The great man +of the village was in his element—the eyes +and ears of all Pleasantville fixed upon him.</p> + +<p>In rolling tones and with magnificent gestures +he was paying a lofty tribute to the immortal +Stars and Stripes waving just over his head, when, +his eyes lowering, they focused straight in a +fixed stare on Bart.</p> + +<p>The colonel gave the young express agent an +awful look, and in an instant Bart knew that the +military man had been informed of the identity +of the audacious cannoneer of the evening +previous.</p> + +<p>Like some orators, the colonel, once disturbed +by an extraneous contemplation, lost his voice, +cue and self-possession all in a second.</p> + +<p>It seemed as if he could not take his eyes from +the innocent and embarrassed author of his distraction.</p> + +<p>He spluttered, the rounded sentence on his +lips died down to measly insignificance, he stammered, +stumbled, and sat down with a red face, +his eyes darting rage at poor Bart.</p> + +<p>Some of the boys in the crowd "caught on" +to the situation, and giggled and made significant +remarks, but the chairman on the platform covered +the colonel's confusion by announcing the +national anthem, and Bart effected his escape.</p> + +<p>"He'll never forgive me, now," decided Bart. +"The damage to the statue was bad enough, but +breaking him up as my appearance did just now +is the limit. I hope Mr. Leslie doesn't hear of +my unfortunate escapade, and I hope the colonel +doesn't undertake to hurt my chances. He's an +irrational firebrand when he takes a dislike to +anybody, and Mrs. Harrington is worse."</p> + +<p>Bart had a foundation for this double criticism. +The colonel was a pompous, self-important individual, +intensely selfish and domineering, and +his wife a thoughtless devotee of fashion and +society.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stirling did some very fine fancy work, +and a few months previous to the opening of +this tale the magnate's wife had asked as a favor +that she embroider some handkerchiefs as a wedding +present for a relative.</p> + +<p>She never visited the Stirling house but she +left some sting or sneer of affected superiority +behind her, and when the work was done took it +home, and the next day sent a note complaining +that the handkerchiefs were spoiled, inclosing +about one-fifth the usual compensation for such +labor. But she did not return the handkerchiefs.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stirling later learned that their recipient +had expressed herself perfectly delighted with the +delicate, beautiful gift, but, being a true lady, +Bart's mother said nothing about the matter to +those who would have been glad to spread a +little gossip unfavorable to the dowdy society +queen of Pleasantville.</p> + +<p>The village hardware store was open for the +sale of powder, and Bart stopped there on his +way back to the express office and purchased a +padlock, two keys fitting it, and some stout +staples and a hasp. He carried these articles +into the office when he reached it.</p> + +<p>The thoughts of his father's plight, a haunting +dread that Colonel Harrington might make him +some trouble, and the uncertainty of continued +work in the express service, all combined to depress +his mind with anxiety and suspense, and he +tried to dismiss the themes by whistling a quiet, +soothing tune as he started to get the hammer to +put the padlock in place.</p> + +<p>The minute he opened the door, however, the +whistle was instantly checked, and a quick glance +at the impromptu desk told Bart that the place had +welcomed a visitor since he had left it.</p> + +<p>On a sheet of blank paper was scrawled the +words: "Express safe was locked last night—contents +all right."</p> + +<p>And beside it was a heap of account books—the +entire records of the office, which Bart had supposed +were destroyed in the fire at the old express +shed the evening previous.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>THE YOUNG EXPRESS AGENT</h3> + + +<p>Our hero regarded the little pile of account +books as if they represented some long-lost, newly-found +treasure.</p> + +<p>He was very much astonished at their presence +there. They were a tangible reality, however, and +no delusion of the senses, and his ready mind +took in the fact that someone had in an unaccountable +manner rescued them from the burning +express shed, and mysteriously restored them to +the proper representative of the express company +in the nature of a vast surprise.</p> + +<p>The edges of one of the books was scorched, +which was the only evidence that they had been +in the flames.</p> + +<p>They were all there, and Bart was very glad. +He now had in his possession every record of the +transactions of the Pleasantville express office +since the last New Year's day.</p> + +<p>"And the contents of the safe are all right, too, +that writing says!" exclaimed Bart; "now what +does all this mean?"</p> + +<p>The handwriting of the announcement was crude +and labored, and the boy felt sure he had never +seen it before.</p> + +<p>He glanced with some excitement at the ruins +of the old express shed, then he went over there. +The embers had died down entirely, and the mass +of ashes and debris was sparkless and cold.</p> + +<p>Bart went to a near railroad scrap heap and selected +a long iron rod crowbar crooked at the end. +He returned to the ruins and began poking the +debris aside. He was thus engaged when some +trackmen, lounging the day away over on a freight +platform, sauntered up to the spot.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you work holidays, Stirling?" +asked one of them satirically.</p> + +<p>"Somebody has got to work to get this mess +in shipshape order," retorted Bart. "The writing +said what was true!" he spoke to himself, as his +pokings cleared a broad iron surface. "The safe +door is shut."</p> + +<p>The safe lay flat on its back where it had fallen +when the floor had burned away. It was an old-fashioned +affair with a simple combination attachment, +and so far as Bart could make out had suffered +no damage beyond having its coat of lacquer +and gilt lettering burned off.</p> + +<p>He leaned over and felt of its surface, which +retained scarcely any heat now.</p> + +<p>"We heard the old iron box was caught open +by the fire and everything in it burned up," spoke +one of the trackmen.</p> + +<p>"I supposed so myself," said Bart, "but +it seems otherwise. I wonder how heavy +it is?"</p> + +<p>"Wait till I get some tackle," said one of the +workmen.</p> + +<p>He went away and returned with two crowbars +and a pulley and block tackle.</p> + +<p>It was no work at all for those stout, experienced +fellows to get the safe clear of the ruins, +and, with the aid of a big truck they brought from +the freight house, convey it to the new express +quarters.</p> + +<p>Just as the town bell rang out four o'clock, Mr. +Leslie stepped over the threshold.</p> + +<p>He glanced about the place briskly, gave a +start as he noticed the heap of account books at +Bart's elbow, and looked both pleased and puzzled +as his eyes lighted on the safe.</p> + +<p>"Why, Stirling!" he exclaimed, "are you a +wizard?"</p> + +<p>"Not quite," replied Bart with a smile, "but +someone else seems to be."</p> + +<p>"Are those the office books we thought burned +up, and the safe?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"How is this?"</p> + +<p>Bart told of the mysterious return of the books +and of the scrap of writing that had led him to +dig up the safe.</p> + +<p>"That's a pretty strange circumstance," observed +Mr. Leslie thoughtfully. "How do you +account for it?"</p> + +<p>"I can't," admitted Bart, "except to theorize, +of course, that someone had enough interest in +myself or the company to rush into the burning +shed and save the books and close the safe while +I was getting my father to safety."</p> + +<p>"That's rational, but who was it?" persisted +Mr. Leslie.</p> + +<p>"Whoever it was," said Bart, "he has certainly +proved himself a good, true friend."</p> + +<p>"Have you no idea who it is?" challenged Mr. +Leslie sharply.</p> + +<p>Bart hesitated for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," he admitted finally. "I am pretty +sure who it is. I do not know his name, but I +have seen him several times," and Bart thought it +best to reveal to his superior all he knew about the +roustabout who had warned him of the burglary, +who had assisted him in rescuing his father from +the burning express shed, and who had vanished +suddenly as people began to crowd to the scene of +the blaze.</p> + +<p>"I would like to meet that man!" commented +Mr. Leslie.</p> + +<p>"I hardly think that possible," explained Bart. +"He seems to be afraid to face the open daylight, +and, as you see, has not even manifested himself +to me, except in a covert way."</p> + +<p>"He is some poor unfortunate in trouble," said +the superintendent. "If you do see him, Stirling, +give him that—from the express company."</p> + +<p>Bart was sure that his mysterious friend could +be no other than the roustabout. He took the +crisp ten-dollar bill, which the superintendent extended +with an impetuousness that showed he +was a genuine, warm-hearted man under the +surface.</p> + +<p>"That quarter of a dollar you gave him was a +grand investment, Stirling. And now to get down +to business, for I haven't much time to spare."</p> + +<p>The superintendent, seating himself on the +bench, consulted his watch and fixed his glance on +Bart in his former stern, practical way.</p> + +<p>"I saw your father at the hospital," he announced.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir?" murmured Bart anxiously.</p> + +<p>"They are going to let him go home to-morrow. +I am very sorry for his misfortune. He is an old +and reliable employee of the express company, and +we will find it difficult to replace him. I have +thought over a suggestion he made, and have decided +to offer you his position."</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir! I thank you," said Bart spontaneously, +and the tears of gladness and pride sprang +to his eyes uncontrollably.</p> + +<p>"Technically your father will appear in our +service. I do not think the company bonding +him will refuse to continue to be his surety. You +must make your own arrangement as to legally +representing him, signing his name and the like, +and of course you will have to do all the work, +for he will be helpless for some time to come. +Are you willing to undertake the responsibility?"</p> + +<p>"Gladly."</p> + +<p>"Then that is settled. This arrangement will +be in force for sixty days. If, at the end of that +time your father is no better, I do not doubt that +we will give you the regular appointment, if in +the meantime you fill the bill acceptably."</p> + +<p>"I shall do my best."</p> + +<p>"And I believe you will succeed. I like you, +Stirling," said Mr. Leslie frankly, "and I am +greatly pleased at the way you have stood in the +breach at a critical time, and protected the company's +interests. You will continue to draw fifty-five +dollars a month, and use your judgment +in incurring any expense necessary to keep things +running smoothly until we get a new express office +built. What is in the safe?"</p> + +<p>Bart was familiar with its contents. He itemized +them, including some fifty unclaimed parcels +of small bulk that had accumulated during the +year.</p> + +<p>"Get rid of all that stuff," ordered the superintendent +briskly. "I shall advise all the small +offices in this division to ship in all their uncalled-for +matter. Advertise a sale, make your returns +to the company, and start with a new sheet. +I think that is all there is any need of discussing +at present, but I will send instructions by wire or +mail as the occasion comes up. Count me your +friend as long as you show the true manhood you +have displayed to-day in a situation that would +have rattled and frightened most boys—and grown +men, too. Good-by."</p> + +<p>He was keen, practical business to the core, +and no sentiment about him, for he arose promptly +with the farewell words, shook hands with Bart in +an off-hand way, and was gone like a flash to catch +his train to the city.</p> + +<p>Bart stood for a moment in a kind of daze. +The congratulatory words of the superintendent, +and the appointment to the position of agent, +stirred the dearest desires of his heart.</p> + +<p>His great good fortune momentarily overwhelmed +him, and he stood staring silently after +the superintendent in a grand dream of opulence +and ambition.</p> + +<p>"I want you!" spoke a harsh, sudden voice, +and Bart Stirling came out of dreamland with a +shock.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>COLONEL JEPTHA HARRINGTON</h3> + + +<p>The young express agent recognized the tones +before he saw the speaker's face. Only one person +in Pleasantville had that mixture of lofty command +and tragic emphasis, and that was Colonel +Jeptha Harrington.</p> + +<p>As Bart turned, he saw the village magnate ten +feet away, planted like a rock, and extending his +big golden-headed cane as if it was a spear and he +was poising to immediately impale a victim. The +colonel's brow was a veritable thundercloud.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," announced Bart promptly—"what +can I do for you?"</p> + +<p>Bart did not get excited in the least. He looked +so cool and collected that the colonel ground his +teeth, stamped his foot and advanced swinging his +cane alarmingly.</p> + +<p>"I've come to see you—" he began, and choked +on the words.</p> + +<p>"May I ask what for?" interrogated Bart.</p> + +<p>Colonel Harrington shook, as he placed his +cane under his arm and took out his big plethoric +wallet.</p> + +<p>He selected a strip of paper and held it between +his forefinger and thumb.</p> + +<p>"Young man," he observed, "do you know +what that is?"</p> + +<p>Bart shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll tell you, it's a bill, do you hear? a +bill. It's for eighty-five dollars, damage done maliciously +on my private grounds, yesterday evening. +It represents the bare cost of a new copper +pedestal to replace the one you shot to pieces last +night, and it's a wonder you are not in jail for murder, +for had that cannon ball struck a human being—Enough! +before I take up this outrage with +the district attorney in its criminal phase, are +you going to settle the damage, or are you +not?"</p> + +<p>"Colonel Harrington, I haven't got eighty-five +dollars."</p> + +<p>"Then get it!" snapped the Colonel.</p> + +<p>"Nor can I get it."</p> + +<p>"Then," observed the colonel, restoring the bit +of paper to his pocket—"go to jail!"</p> + +<p>Bart regarded his enemy dumbly. Colonel +Harrington was a power in Pleasantville, his will +and his way were paramount there.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," said Bart finally, in a tone of +genuine distress, "but eighty-five dollars is a sheer +impossibility—in cash. If you would listen to +me—"</p> + +<p>"But I shan't!"</p> + +<p>"I would like to offer payment or replace the +pedestal on reasonable terms."</p> + +<p>"It don't go!"</p> + +<p>"And, further, I am not to blame in the +matter."</p> + +<p>"What!" roared the colonel "what's that?"</p> + +<p>"It's the truth," asserted Bart. "I never +knew the cannon was loaded with a ball."</p> + +<p>"Do you know who loaded it?"</p> + +<p>Bart was silent.</p> + +<p>"You won't tell? We'll see if a jury can't +make you, then!" fumed the colonel. "Aha! +it's serious now, is it? Not so much fun breaking +up my home and breaking up my speech at +the grove to-day, hey?"</p> + +<p>Bart saw very plainly that what rankled most +with his volcanic visitor was the blow to his pride +he had suffered that afternoon at the grove.</p> + +<p>"You put me in a nice fix, didn't you?" +cried the colonel—"laughing stock of the community! +Young man, you're on the downward +road, fast. You're all of a brood. Your +mother—"</p> + +<p>Bart started forward with a dangerous sparkle +in his eye.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Harrington," he said decisively, +"my mother has nothing to do with this affair."</p> + +<p>"She has!" vociferated the magnate, "or +rather, her teachings. You're full of infernal +pride and presumption, the whole kit of you!"</p> + +<p>"We have our rights."</p> + +<p>"I'm a stockholder in the B. & M., and I +fancy my influence will reach the express service. +You'll stay in your present job just long +enough for me to advise your employers of your +true character."</p> + +<p>Bart was dismayed—that threat touched him +to the quick. He had felt very glad that Mr. +Leslie had not met the irate colonel. The mean-spirited +magnate noted instantly the effect of his +threat.</p> + +<p>"You'll insult and defy me, will you?" he cried, +with a gloating chuckle. "Very well—you take +your medicine, that's all."</p> + +<p>Bart could hardly control his voice, but he +said simply:</p> + +<p>"Colonel Harrington, my father has been +blinded at his post of duty. I am the sole support +of the family. I hope you will pause and +consider before you plunge us into new trouble +and distress that we do not deserve. I have +never had the remotest thought of injuring you +or your property in any way. I am willing to +make all the amends I am able for the accidental +damage to your property, but I can't and won't +cringe to your injustice, nor grovel at your feet."</p> + +<p>"Eighty-five dollars—one, the name of the +person who loaded that cannon—two, C.O.D. +before ten o'clock to-morrow morning, or I'll +sweep you off the map!" shouted the colonel.</p> + +<p>He marched off, puffing up as his vain senses +were tickled with the fancy that he was a born +orator, and had just given utterance to some profoundly +apt and clever sentiments. Bart stared +after him in sheer dismay.</p> + +<p>"It's a bad outlook," he murmured, "but—I +have tried to do my duty. I would like to have +money and influence, but would rather be plain +Bart Stirling than that man. He is coming +back."</p> + +<p>Bart thought this, for, just about to round the +end of a dead freight and cross to the public +street, his late visitor turned abruptly.</p> + +<p>He did not, however, retrace his steps. Instead, +he came to the strangest rigid pose Bart +had ever seen a human being assume.</p> + +<p>He stood staring, spellbound, at the partly +open door of the nearest freight car. His cane +had fallen from his hand, his head was thrown up +as if he had been struck a stunning blow under +the chin, and even at the distance he was, Bart +could see that his usually red-puffed face was the +color of chalk. Almost immediately, through +the open doorway space of the freight car an arm +was protruded.</p> + +<p>Its index finger was pointed, inflexible as an +iron rod, directly at the colonel. It fascinated +and transfixed the military man, and Bart Stirling, +staring also at the strange tableau, was overcome +with perplexity and mystification.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>QUEER COMRADES</h3> + + +<p>So many sensational occurrences had marked the +last twenty-four hours of Bart Stirling's career, +that it seemed as though the accumulating series +would never end.</p> + +<p>It was a particularly ragged and miserable-looking +arm, and why it could so summarily check, +halt and hold the great magnate of Pleasantville, +was the problem that now tried Bart's reasoning +faculties.</p> + +<p>Bart closed the door of the express office and +stepped out to where he could get a clearer view +of the colonel and his environment.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the strain was removed. The colonel +threw up his arms with a gasp. He started to +turn around, clutched at his neck in a strangling +kind of a way, tottered, reeled, and plunged forward +on his face against a heap of cinders.</p> + +<p>"This is serious," murmured Bart.</p> + +<p>He rapidly covered the two hundred foot +space between the express shed and the freight +car.</p> + +<p>"Colonel—Colonel Harrington!" he called +in some alarm, kneeling by the prostrate body of +his enemy.</p> + +<p>Bart tried to pull him over on his back. As he +partially succeeded, he noticed that the colonel's +face was pitted, and in one or two places scratched +and bleeding from contact with the cinder particles.</p> + +<p>The bulky form was quivering and convulsed. +The colonel had been dazed, it seemed, but not +rendered entirely unconscious, for now with a +groan he struggled to a sitting posture.</p> + +<p>Bart drew out his handkerchief and tried to +clean the dirt from the military man's face.</p> + +<p>The colonel resisted, he swayed and mumbled. +Then he groaned again as his eyes lit on the +freight car.</p> + +<p>"Get me away from here," he moaned—"get +me away! What's happened to me?"</p> + +<p>"That is what I was going to ask you," said +Bart. "Don't you know?"</p> + +<p>The colonel passed his hand over his face and +mumbled, but made no coherent reply.</p> + +<p>Bart glanced at the freight car. It afforded no +evidence of present occupancy. He reflected for +moment.</p> + +<p>"Wait for just two minutes," he directed.</p> + +<p>Running over to the drug store on the next +street, he spoke a few words to the man in charge, +and darted out again as the druggist hurried to +his telephone to call up the livery stable.</p> + +<p>When he got back to the colonel, Bart found +the latter sitting propped up against the cinder +heap, his eyes open, and breathing heavily, but +still in a helpless kind of a daze.</p> + +<p>He worked over the colonel, and finally got the +man on his feet. His position was so unsteady, +however, that he had to support him with one hand +while he dusted off his clothes with the other.</p> + +<p>As he stood trying to keep his charge on his +feet, a cab rushed across the tracks. Its driver, +bluff Bill Carey, nodded familiarly to Bart, and +looked the colonel over critically. He got the +latter into the cab in an experienced way.</p> + +<p>"Same old complaint!" he intimated to Bart +with a wink. "Drinks pretty heavily."</p> + +<p>Bart leaned over into the cab.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Harrington," he said, "do you wish +to be driven home?"</p> + +<p>The colonel gave him a fishy stare, groaned +and put out a wavering hand.</p> + +<p>"Come," he mumbled.</p> + +<p>"Jump in," directed Carey. "You'll be useful +explaining the 'fall' up at the house!"</p> + +<p>As they went on their way, the young express +agent experienced a striking sensation.</p> + +<p>A topsy-turvy day of excitement was ending +with the peculiar combination of his riding in the +same carriage with his most bitter enemy, and +acting the good Samaritan.</p> + +<p>They proceeded slowly, or rather cautiously, +for the popping and banging had recommenced +all over town.</p> + +<p>Carey had to keep the spirited horses in strong +check as they passed groups of boys, reckless of +the quantity of firecrackers they deliberately fired +off as the team neared them.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the horses were pulled to their +haunches with a vociferous shout. The cab +swerved and creaked, and the horses' hoofs beat +an alarming tattoo on the cobblestones.</p> + +<p>"Whoa! whoa!" yelled Bill Carey. "You +young villains! get that infernal machine out of +the way. Can't you see—"</p> + +<p>Bart stuck his head out of the cab window to +view an animated scene.</p> + +<p>A fourteen-inch cannon cracker was hissing +and spitting out smoke barely two feet ahead +of the terrified horses in the middle of the +street.</p> + +<p>At that moment it exploded. The horses gave +a wild snort, a frightened jerk at the reins.</p> + +<p>Bart saw the staunch driver dragged from his +seat. He lit on his feet, braced, but was pulled +over, as, with a fierce tug, the horses snapped +the line in two.</p> + +<p>Then, unrestrained, the team shot down the +street without guide or hindrance and with the +speed of the wind.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>"FORGET IT!"</h3> + + +<p>The young express agent acted quickly. A +single glance told him that the driver of the cab +could do nothing.</p> + +<p>The frightened horses were speeding ahead at a +furious rate, could not be overtaken, and Bart +doubted if anyone could stop them.</p> + +<p>No one tried, but all got out of the way promptly +as the team went tearing along. The horses came +to a crossing, and, terrified anew at a spitting +"Vesuvius" ahead, abruptly veered and turned +down a side lane.</p> + +<p>It was at this moment that Bart threw open +the door of the cab, grasped a handle at the side +of the vehicle, and drew himself up to the +driver's seat.</p> + +<p>The swing the horses made just then sent his +feet flying out in a wild circle, but he held on, and +the rebound landed him on the seat.</p> + +<p>Our hero cast a quick look within the vehicle. +The colonel had "rousted" up somewhat. Buffeted +from side to side by the erratic and violent +movements of the horses, he was trying to maintain +his balance by frantically clinging with both +hands to the cushion under him.</p> + +<p>As a wheel struck a stone the jar drove him forward. +His head smashed out the front glass, and +he uttered a yell of fear.</p> + +<p>"Don't stir—don't jump!" shouted Bart +through the opening thus made.</p> + +<p>"We'll be killed!" cried the man.</p> + +<p>"No, we won't. Do as I say. I'm on deck, +and I'll—"</p> + +<p>Bart sized up the situation, counted its risks +and possibilities, and described a sudden forward +leap.</p> + +<p>The lines were torn and trailing under the +horses' feet. He cut the air in a reckless, but +well planned dive.</p> + +<p>Bart landed sprawling between the two horses, +his knee striking the carriage pole.</p> + +<p>Bracing himself there, he caught out at the +head of either horse. With a firm grip his fingers +closed on the bridle reins.</p> + +<p>Ahead was a stony wagon track lining a deep +gravel pit dangerously near its edge.</p> + +<p>About a hundred feet further on ran the creek, +sunk between banks some fifteen feet high.</p> + +<p>Bart drew the bridles taut. He feared the tremendous +strain would break them. The heads +of the horses were now held as in a vice, but they +snorted and continued to plunge forward with undiminished +speed.</p> + +<p>As a wheel landed in a rut full of thick mud, +their pace was momentarily retarded. Bart jerked +at the bridles. The horses paused fully, but +pranced and backed.</p> + +<p>"Jump—crawl out—quick, now!" shouted +Bart breathlessly to the occupant of the cab.</p> + +<p>The colonel had been bouncing around, groaning +and yelling ever since he had awakened to a +realization of his desperate plight.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute!" he puffed. "Gently! Wait +till I get out. Then you can go on," was his +remarkable concession.</p> + +<p>Bart saw the bulky body of the magnate fall, +rather than step from the vehicle. He landed +clumsily at the side of the road, rolled up like a +ball, but unhurt.</p> + +<p>He was so near to the grinding wheels of the +vehicle and kicking hoofs of the horses that Bart +relaxed the bridles.</p> + +<p>Instantly the horses sprang forward again, but, +once clear of the colonel's prostrate body, Bart +focused his strength on a final mastery of the +maddened steeds.</p> + +<p>He drew the bridles at a sharp, taut slant that +must have cut their mouths fearfully at the tenderest +part, for they fairly screamed with pain +and terror.</p> + +<p>He succeeded in facing them sideways, ran +their heads into some brush, vaulted over them, +and, landing safely on his feet in front of them, +grabbed them near the bits and held them snorting +and trembling at a standstill.</p> + +<p>Then he unshipped one of the lines and tied it +around a sapling, stroked the horse's heads, and +succeeded in quieting them down.</p> + +<p>Going back to the road, he discerned Colonel +Harrington sitting up rubbing his head and +staring about abstractedly.</p> + +<p>Farther away was a flying excited figure. Bart +recognized the disenthroned cabman. They met +where the colonel sat.</p> + +<p>"All gone to smash, I suppose!" hailed Carey.</p> + +<p>"No, a window broken, wheels scraped a +little—nothing worse," reported Bart.</p> + +<p>"Where is the team?" panted Carey.</p> + +<p>Bart pointed and explained, and the cabman +forged ahead with a gratified snort.</p> + +<p>"You stuck till you landed 'em," applauded +Carey. "Stirling, you're nerve all through!"</p> + +<p>Bart went up to Colonel Harrington and the +latter got on his feet. Bart could see that either +the druggist's potion or his succeeding violent +experience had quite restored the magnate to +his original self. He nursed a slight abrasion on +his chin, looked at Bart sheepishly, and then +stepped over to a big bowlder and rested against it.</p> + +<p>"Are you feeling all right now, Colonel Harrington?" +asked Bart courteously.</p> + +<p>"Me? Now? Ah yes! Quite—er—er—thank +you."</p> + +<p>Bart was somewhat astonished at the words +and manner of his whilom enemy.</p> + +<p>Colonel Harrington looked positively embarrassed. +He would glance at Bart, start to speak, +lower his eyes, and, turning pale as he seemed to +remember, and turning red as he seemed to realize, +would fumble at his watch fob, run his fingers +through his hair and act flustered generally.</p> + +<p>"The cab will be back in a few minutes," remarked +Bart. "It was a pretty bad shaking up, +but I hope you are none the worse for it. Good +day, Colonel Harrington."</p> + +<p>Bart turned to leave. He heard the colonel +spluttering.</p> + +<p>"Hold on," ordered the magnate. "I want +to give you—I want to give you—some money," +he observed.</p> + +<p>"I can't take it, Colonel Harrington," said +Bart definitely. "If I have been of service +to you I am glad, but you will remember I was +in the same danger as yourself, and quite anxious +to save my own skin."</p> + +<p>"Bosh! I mean—maybe," retorted the colonel, +getting bombastic, and then humble.</p> + +<p>"Well, put up your money, Colonel," advised +Bart. "As I say, if I have been of service to +you I am glad."</p> + +<p>"You hold on!" ordered Colonel Harrington, +as Bart again moved to leave the spot.</p> + +<p>The speaker poked in his wallet and brought +out a strip of paper, which Bart recognized as the +one he had so menacingly waved in his face an +hour previous at the express shed.</p> + +<p>Colonel Harrington again poked about in his +pockets till he found a pencil. With somewhat +unsteady fingers he inscribed his name at the +bottom of the paper, and handed it to Bart.</p> + +<p>"You take that," he directed.</p> + +<p>"Why, this is a receipted bill for the damage +done to your statue," said Bart.</p> + +<p>"Eighty-five dollars—just so."</p> + +<p>"But I haven't paid it!"</p> + +<p>"You needn't. Serious mistake—I see that," +said the colonel. "That is, I see it now. Satisified +you didn't mean any harm. Sick of whole +muddle. And about getting you discharged and +all that rot—didn't mean it. Forget it! Was a +little mad and excited; see!"</p> + +<p>"I can't take your receipt for what I haven't +paid, and what I am willing to pay as fast as I can," +said Bart.</p> + +<p>"Then tear it up—I won't take a cent!" declared +Colonel Harrington obstinately.</p> + +<p>"The cab is coming," remarked Bart. "Shall +Mr. Carey drive you home?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose so. Come here, quick!"</p> + +<p>He grabbed Bart's arm and drew our hero close +up to him, as though he had some pressing intelligence +to impart before the cab interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Forget it!" he whispered hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"About the statue—I'll be glad to," said Bart +frankly.</p> + +<p>"No—no, the—the—"</p> + +<p>"Runaway? I shall not mention it, Colonel +Harrington."</p> + +<p>The colonel released Bart's arm, but with a +desperate groan. It was evident he was not fully +satisfied.</p> + +<p>"Sure you'll forget It!" he persisted, very much +perturbed. "I don't mean my abusing you, or +the runaway, or—or—I mean I had an accident +after I left you at the express office. Someone +hailed me—but you know, you know!"</p> + +<p>The colonel cast a penetrating look on Bart, +who shook his head negatively.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Colonel," he declared.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come, now!" croaked the colonel, making +a ghastly attempt to give the statement the aspect +of a joke. Honest, you didn't hear anyone +call to me?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Bart.</p> + +<p>The cab drove up and halted.</p> + +<p>"Don't do any talking. Don't start any gossip +about—about—of course you won't! I've +got your word. You're a truthful, reliable boy, +Stirling, and I—I respect you," stumbled on the +colonel. "Mum's the word, and I'll—I'll make +you no trouble, see?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Colonel Harrington," said Bart +in a queer tone.</p> + +<p>The colonel again regarded him penetratingly, +and then got into the cab. He took the trouble of +leaning out and waving his hand as the vehicle +started up. He smiled in a sickly way at Bart, +and once made a movement as if inclined to get +out and once more suggest to the young express +agent that he "forget it."</p> + +<p>"That man is scared half to death over something," +reflected Bart, as he took a short cut to +regain the express office.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>THE MYSTERIOUS MR. BAKER</h3> + + +<p>The little express office looked good to Bart +as its precincts again sheltered him.</p> + +<p>Things appeared better and clearer to him now +than at any time during the past twenty-four +hours, and his heart warmed up as he put his papers +and books in order, saw that the safe was secured, +and decided to close up business for the +day.</p> + +<p>Doctor Griscom from the hospital had dropped +in for a few moments, and brought some news +that lifted something of a cloud from the heart of +the young express agent.</p> + +<p>"I do not want to hold out any false hopes," +he told Bart, "but there is a bare possibility that +your father may not become totally blind."</p> + +<p>"That is blessed news!" cried Bart fervently.</p> + +<p>"It is all a question of time, and after that of +skill," continued the surgeon. "Your father +must have absolute rest and cheerful, comfortable +surroundings; above all, peace of mind. I shall +watch his case, and when I see the first indication +of the services of some skilled specialist being of +benefit to him I will tell you. It will cost you +some money, but I will do all I can to make the +expert reasonable in his charges."</p> + +<p>"Don't think of that," said Bart impetuously. +"With such a hope in view I am willing to work +my finger ends off!"</p> + +<p>Bart was, therefore, in high spirits as he left +the express office, padlocking the door securely.</p> + +<p>He was anxious to get home and then to the +hospital, to impart to his mother and father in turn +the assurance that they had a bread-winner able to +work and glad to do so for their benefit.</p> + +<p>Amid the buoyancy of the relief from the continuous +strain and troubles of the day, Bart was +bent on a quick dash for home when he remembered +something that changed his plan.</p> + +<p>"The roustabout, the poor fellow that I've got +the ten dollars for, the good fellow, if I don't mistake, +who saved the books and the contents of the +safe!" exclaimed Bart. "Actually, I had forgotten +all about him for the moment."</p> + +<p>Bart stood still thinking, looking around speculatively, +his fingers mechanically touching the bank +note in his pocket which Mr. Leslie had given +him in trust.</p> + +<p>He did not reflect long. He went at once to +the freight car whence he had seen the ragged arm +extended two hours previous, and looked in.</p> + +<p>Back at one end were some broken grapevine +crates, and it was dim and shadowy there, so he +called out.</p> + +<p>"Any one here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," came from the corner, and there was a +rustling of straw.</p> + +<p>"I guess I know who," said Bart. "Come out +of that, my good friend, and show yourself," he +continued heartily.</p> + +<p>"What for?" propounded a gloomy, wavering +voice.</p> + +<p>"What for? that's good!" cried Bart. "Oh, +I know who you are, if I don't know your +name."</p> + +<p>"Baker will do."</p> + +<p>"All right, Mr. Baker, friend Baker, you're +true blue and the best friend I ever had, and I +want to shake hands with you, and slap you on +the back, and—help you."</p> + +<p>A timid, muffled figure shifted into full outline, +but not into clear view, against the side of the car.</p> + +<p>Bart took a step nearer. He promptly caught +at one hand of the slouching figure. Then he regarded +it in perplexity.</p> + +<p>The roustabout held with his other hand a canvas +bag on his head so that it concealed nearly his +entire face.</p> + +<p>"Why!" said Bart, reaching suddenly up and +momentarily pulling the impromptu hood aside. +"What's the matter now? Where is your beard +and long head of hair?"</p> + +<p>"Burned."</p> + +<p>"False?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then you were disguised?"</p> + +<p>"I tried to be," was responded faintly.</p> + +<p>Bart stood for a moment or two queerly regarding +the roustabout.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Baker," he said finally, "I am bound to +respect any wish you may suggest, but I declare +I can't understand you."</p> + +<p>"Don't try to," advised the roustabout in a +dreary way. "I'm not worth it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, you are."</p> + +<p>"And it wouldn't do any good."</p> + +<p>"It might. It must!" declared Bart staunchly, +"See here, I want to ask you a few questions +and then I want to give you some advice, or +rather tender my very friendly services. Do +you know what you have done for me to-day?"</p> + +<p>"No. If I have done anything to help you +I am glad of it. You have been a friend to +me—the only friend I've found."</p> + +<p>"I'll be a better one—that is, if you will let +me," pledged Bart warmly. "You warned me +about the burglars last night; you helped me +save my father's life."</p> + +<p>"Anybody would do what I have done."</p> + +<p>"No one did but yourself, just the same. +Don't be cynical—you're something of a hero, if +you only knew it. It was you who went into +the burning express shed and saved the account +books and closed the safe door."</p> + +<p>"Who says so?" muttered Baker.</p> + +<p>"I say so, and you know it—don't you?"</p> + +<p>Baker made no response.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what all this means for me +and my family?" went on Bart. "You have +done for me something I can never pay you for, +something I can never forget. You are true +blue, Mr. Baker! That's the kind of a worthless +good-for-nothing person you are, and I want +to call you my friend! Hello, now what is the +matter?"</p> + +<p>The matter was that the roustabout was crying +softly like a baby. Bart was infinitely +touched.</p> + +<p>"I don't know your secrets," continued Bart +earnestly, "and I certainly shall not pry into +them without your permission, but I want to repay +your kindness in some way. I can't rest till +I do. All I can do is to guess out that you are +in some trouble, maybe hiding. Well, let me +share your troubles, let me hide you in a more comfortable +way than lounging around cold freight cars +with half enough to eat. You've done something +grand in the last twenty-four hours—don't lose +sight of that in mourning over your sins, if you +have any, or in running away from some shadow +that scares you. I'm not the only one who thinks +you're a hero, either. There's someone else."</p> + +<p>"Is there?" murmured the roustabout weakly.</p> + +<p>"There is. It is Mr. Leslie, the express +superintendent. I told him about you. He left +this ten dollars for you, and the way he did +it ought to make you proud."</p> + +<p>Bart forced the bank note into Baker's hand. +The man was shaking like a leaf from emotion. +He stood like one spellbound, unable +to take in all at once the good that was said +of him and done him.</p> + +<p>"Come," rallied Bart, giving him a ringing +slap on the shoulder, "brace up and be what +you have proved yourself to be—a man!"</p> + +<p>Baker started electrically. His tones showed +some force as he said:</p> + +<p>"All right—you've made me feel good. But +you don't know a whole lot, and I can't tell you. +You say you're my friend."</p> + +<p>"You believe that I am, do you not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do, and that's why I don't want +to drag you into any complications. This ten +dollars is mine, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"Will you spend it for me?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I want you to give me a pencil and some paper, +and I will write out a list of some things I +want. You take it and the ten dollars and bring +me the things here to-morrow. I want you to +promise in the meantime, though, that if you +come upon me unawares, or when I'm asleep, or +under any circumstances whatever, you will turn +your head away and not look at my face."</p> + +<p>Bart was very much puzzled.</p> + +<p>"I think I see how it is," he said after a brief +period of reflection, "you are afraid of being recognized?"</p> + +<p>"Think that if you want to, maybe you're +right," returned Baker. "Anyway, I don't want +to do anything or have you do anything that will +mix you up in my troubles. My way is the safe +way. Will you do what I ask?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Bart promptly. "Can't I get +the things you want to-night?"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid not, for most of the stores are +closed."</p> + +<p>"That's right. Well, then, let me make a +suggestion: I have two keys to the new express +office. I'll give you one. After dark, if you +don't want to do it in daylight, go over and unlock +the door. Pick out two or three dry-goods +boxes from the heap behind the shed, carry them +in and rig up any kind of private quarters you like +at the far corner of the shed. I'll see that nobody +disturbs you. In a couple of hours I will +bring you a blanket from the house and a nice +warm lunch, and you can be comfortable and safe. +I will relock the door on you, and if you want to +leave at any time you can unfasten a window and +get out."</p> + +<p>Baker did not reply. Bart heard him mumbling +to himself as though debating the proposition +submitted to him.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to make you a lot of trouble," +he finally faltered out.</p> + +<p>"Of course you don't, and won't," asserted +Bart—"you want to give me pleasure, though, +don't you? So you do as I suggest, and I'll +sleep a good deal sounder than if you didn't. +Here's the key. I will be over to the express +office about eight o'clock. Is it a bargain?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered the strange man.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>"HIGHER STILL!"</h3> + + +<p>About eight o'clock that evening Bart came +down to the express office carrying a lunch basket +and a blanket, as he had promised his erratic +friend, Mr. Baker.</p> + +<p>The young express agent had spent a busy day, +and the evening promised to continue to furnish +plenty for him to do.</p> + +<p>He had the infinite pleasure of seeing his +mother's face brighten up magically, when he related +sufficient to her of the day's experience to +satisfy her that the revenue from the express business +was secure.</p> + +<p>She had received some intimation of this from +her husband's lips an hour previous at the hospital, +and said that Mr. Stirling was feeling relieved and +hopeful over the visit of the express superintendent, +and the prospects of Bart succeeding to his +position.</p> + +<p>Bart very much wished to visit his father +at once, but Mrs. Stirling said he had quieted +for the night, was in no pain or mental distress, +and it might not be wise to disturb him.</p> + +<p>Bart told his mother something about the roustabout +and their friendly relations, and the bottle +of hot coffee, home-made biscuit sandwiches, and +half a pie were put up for Bart's pensioner with +willing and grateful care.</p> + +<p>Bart also took a shade lantern with him, and +lighted it when he came to the express office. He +found the padlock loose.</p> + +<p>He glanced over to the far dim end of the place. +Baker had built a regular cross-corner barricade of +packing boxes, man-high.</p> + +<p>Bart set the lantern on the bench and approached +the roustabout's hide-out.</p> + +<p>"Are you there, Mr. Baker?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did just as you told me to do," came +the reply, but the speaker did not show himself.</p> + +<p>"Well, here's a blanket. Can you make up a +comfortable bed?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I've got a broad board on a slant, +and plenty of room."</p> + +<p>Bart lifted over the lunch basket.</p> + +<p>"There you are!" he said briskly—"now enjoy +yourself, and don't take a single care about +anything. Have you made out that list of things +you want?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, here it is," and Baker handed over a +piece of paper inclosing the ten-dollar bill.</p> + +<p>"I'll attend to this promptly," said Bart. +"Supposing I look it over right here? There +may be some things you have noted down I want +to ask you about."</p> + +<p>"Maybe you'd better," assented Baker.</p> + +<p>Bart sat down near the lantern. The bit of paper +was covered with crude handwriting, the same +as that which had announced to him that afternoon +that the contents of the safe in the old express +shed ruins were safe.</p> + +<p>The list was not a very long one, but it was not +easy to fill.</p> + +<p>Baker gave the measurements of a very cheap +cotton suit and the size of a cap with a very +deep peak. He also notated a green eye-shade, a +pair of goggles, and the ingredients for making a +dark brown face stain.</p> + +<p>In addition to this he wanted a dark gray hair +switch, and it was easy to discern that his main +idea was to prepare an elaborate disguise.</p> + +<p>"All right," reported Bart, as he finished reading +the list. "I'll have the things here just as +early in the morning as I can get them. I'm going +to put out the lantern, but I will then hand it +over to you with some matches. It has got a +shade, and you can focus the rays so they will not +show outside. Here are a couple of magazines—I +brought them from the house."</p> + +<p>"You're mighty kind," said the refugee. +"Hold on. I want to tell you something. Of +course you think I'm acting strange. Some day, +though, if things come out right, I'll explain to +you, and you will say I did just right. There's +another thing: you may think from my actions I +am some desperate character. I hope I may burn +up right in this shed to-night if I'm not telling +the truth when I say to you that I never touched +a dishonored penny, never harmed a soul, never +did a wrong thing knowingly."</p> + +<p>"I have confidence in your word, Mr. Baker," +said Bart simply.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, I'll prove I deserve it yet," declared +the strange man.</p> + +<p>There was a spell of silence. Finally Bart decided +to venture a question on a theme he was +very curious about.</p> + +<p>"Do you know Colonel Jeptha Harrington?" +he asked suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Hoo—eh?"</p> + +<p>He had startled Baker—his incoherent mutterings +persuaded Bart of this.</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to tell?" continued Bart. "All +right, only it was you who waved an arm at him +from the freight car this afternoon, wasn't it, now?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, it was," admitted Baker in a low +tone.</p> + +<p>"And you said something to him."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did. See here, I heard him calling you +down and threatening you, for I slunk up to the +shed here to see what he was up to. I'm interested +in him, I am, and so are others. When +I got back in hiding I spoke out, I told him +something—something that made his crabbed old +soul wizen up, something that scared the daylights +out of him. He had a brother, once. He's +dead, now. I said something that made this old +rascal think his brother's ghost had come back to +earth to haunt him."</p> + +<p>"How could you do that?" inquired Bart, very +much interested.</p> + +<p>"Because I had certain knowledge. Don't +ask any further. It will all come out, some day—the +day I'm waiting and working for. You saw +how he was affected. Well, I threatened things +that laid him out flat if he dared to so much as +place a straw in your path."</p> + +<p>"I understand, now," said Bart.</p> + +<p>He waited for a minute or two, hoping Baker +would divulge something further, but he did not +do so, and Bart said good night, secured the padlock +on the outside, and left the place with a +parting cheery direction to his strange pensioner +to sleep soundly and rest well.</p> + +<p>The little ones were in bed when Bart got home, +but his mother and the girls were sitting on the +porch. Pretty well tired out, Bart joined them, +and they all sat watching the last of the display of +fireworks over near the common.</p> + +<p>"This has been a pretty dull Fourth for you, +Bart," said his mother sympathizingly.</p> + +<p>"It has been a very busy Fourth, mother," returned +Bart cheerfully—"I might say a very +hopeful, happy Fourth. Except for the anxiety +about father, I think I should feel very grateful +and contented."</p> + +<p>A graceful rocket parted the air at a distance, +followed by the delighted shouts of juvenile +spectators.</p> + +<p>"Upward and onward," murmured Mrs. Stirling, +placing a tender, loving hand on Bart's +shoulder.</p> + +<p>A second rocket went whizzing up. It raced +the other, outdistanced it, seemed bound for the +furthest heights, never swerving from a true, +straight line.</p> + +<p>Then it broke grandly, sending a radiant glow +across the clear, serene sky.</p> + +<p>"That's my motto," said Bart, a touch of intense +resolve in his tones—"higher still!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>MRS. HARRINGTON'S TRUNK</h3> + + +<p>"Hey, there! Stirling."</p> + +<p>Bart was busy at his desk in the express office, +but turned quickly as he recognized the tones.</p> + +<p>Trouble in the shape of Lem Wacker loomed +up at the doorway.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked Bart.</p> + +<p>It was a week after the Fourth, and in all that +time Bart had not seen anything of the man whom +he secretly believed was responsible for the fire +at the old express office.</p> + +<p>"Who's the responsible party here?" demanded +Lem, making a great ado over consulting +a book he carried.</p> + +<p>"I am."</p> + +<p>"All right, then—I represent Martin & Company, +pickle factory."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you've found a job, have you," spoke +Bart, forced to smile at the bombastic business air +assumed by his visitor.</p> + +<p>"I represent Martin & Company," came from +Wacker, in a solemn, dignified way. "Inspector. +We want a rebate on that bill of lading."</p> + +<p>Lem removed a slip from his loose-leaf book +and tendered it to Bart.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with it?" inquired Bart.</p> + +<p>"Consignment short," announced Wacker.</p> + +<p>Bart looked him squarely in the eyes. Wacker +had made the announcement malignantly. His +gaze dropped.</p> + +<p>"I'm hired to stop the leaks," he mumbled, +"and if this office is responsible for any of them +I'm the man to find it out."</p> + +<p>"Well, in the present instance your claim +is sheer folly. I see you note here one hundred +and fifty pounds shortage. What is your basis?"</p> + +<p>"I weighed them myself."</p> + +<p>Bart consulted his books. Then he turned +again to Wacker.</p> + +<p>"This consignment was shipped as nine hundred +and fifty pounds," he said. "It weighed +that at the start."</p> + +<p>"That's what the shipping agent says, yes."</p> + +<p>"And you claim eight hundred pounds?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly."</p> + +<p>"It was weighed up here when received—nine +hundred and fifty pounds."</p> + +<p>"Come off!" jeered Wacker. "Wasn't I an +express agent once and don't I know the ropes? +What receiving agent ever takes the trouble +to re-weigh!"</p> + +<p>"My father did—I always do," announced +Bart flatly.</p> + +<p>"Even if you did," persisted Wacker, "what +little one-horse agent dares to dispute the big +company's weight at the other end of the line?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," observed Bart smoothly, "you think +there is a sort of collusion, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do—I am an expert!"</p> + +<p>"Sorry to disturb the profundity of your calculations, +Mr. Wacker," said Bart quietly, "but +in the present instance there could not possibly +be any mistake. Our scales were burned up in +the fire. The new ones have not yet arrived, +and in the meantime, as a temporary accommodation, +our weighing is done up at the in-freight +platform by the official weigh master of the road. +I fancy Martin & Company will accept that +verification as final. Don't you think so, Mr. +Wacker?"</p> + +<p>Lem Wacker snatched the paper Bart returned +to him with a positive growl.</p> + +<p>"I'll catch you Smart-Alecks yet!" he muttered +surlily.</p> + +<p>"What are you so anxious to catch us for?" +inquired Bart coolly.</p> + +<p>"Never you mind—I'll get you!"</p> + +<p>Lem Wacker had said that before, and as he +backed away Bart dismissed him with a shrug of +his shoulders.</p> + +<p>There were too many practical things occupying +his time to waste any on fancies. Bart had put in +a very busy week, and a very satisfactory one. He +had started in with a system, and had never +allowed it to lag. In fact, he improved it daily.</p> + +<p>Thanks to his brief, but thorough apprenticeship +under his father's direction, he had acquired +a knowledge of all the ins and outs of the office +work proper.</p> + +<p>He had shown great diligence in clearing up +the old business. In three days after taking official +charge Bart had forwarded to headquarters +all the claims covering the fire.</p> + +<p>He had also listed the unclaimed packages in +the safe, together with those burned up, had followed +out Mr. Leslie's direction to collect all not-called-for +express matter at little stations in his +division, and was now awaiting an order from headquarters +as to their final disposition.</p> + +<p>The strange "Mr. Baker" had drifted out of his +life, temporarily at least.</p> + +<p>Bart had purchased the articles the roustabout +had required, and that evening Baker came out +from his hiding-place marvelously unlike the +great-bearded, shock-headed individual Bart had +previously known.</p> + +<p>A green patch and goggles, a deep brown face-stain, +and a pair of thin artistically made "side-burns" +comprised a puzzling make-up.</p> + +<p>Baker told Bart that he felt himself perfectly +disguised, that he could now venture freely down +the road a distance where he had business.</p> + +<p>"I'll be back, though," he promised. "Perhaps +in two weeks. I'm not through with Pleasantville. +Oh, no! There's going to be an explosion +here some time soon. You've put me on +my feet, Stirling, and you won't be sorry when +you know what I'm after."</p> + +<p>Bart had half planned to hire Baker for what extra +work he had to give out. He had to look about for +someone else, and Darry Haven and his brother, +Bob, alternately came around to the express office +before and after school, and helped Bart.</p> + +<p>The company allowed for this extra service, +but Bart had to take a separate voucher for each +task done.</p> + +<p>Colonel Harrington had left for a fashionable +resort two days after the Fourth, and Bart understood +that Mrs. Harrington was preparing to join +him there.</p> + +<p>Bart's father had been taken home after spending +two days in the hospital.</p> + +<p>The surgeon there had told him that his case +was not at all hopeless, and the old express agent +was cheerful and patient under his affliction, and +nights Bart made a great showing of the necessity +of going over the business of the day, so as to +keep his father's mind occupied.</p> + +<p>So far Bart's affairs had settled down to what +seemed to be a clear and definite basis, and when +that afternoon a new platform scale arrived, and +he received a letter of instructions from Mr. Leslie +concerning the sale of the unclaimed express packages, +he felt a certain spice of pleasant anticipation +injected into the business routine.</p> + +<p>"Why, it will be a regular circus!" said Darry +Haven that afternoon, when Bart told him about +it. "Last year they advertised the sale at Marion. +I was up there at my uncle's. All the farmers +came in for miles around, and the way they bid, +and the funny things they found in the packages, +made it jolly, I tell you!"</p> + +<p>When Bart got through with the routine work +the next day, he started in to formulate his plans +for the sale.</p> + +<p>It was to take place in thirty days, and the superintendent +had relied on Bart's judgment to +make it a success.</p> + +<p>Darry Haven came in as Bart was laboring +over an advertisement for the four weekly papers +of Pleasantville and vicinity.</p> + +<p>"Here," he said promptly, "you are of a literary +family. Suppose you take charge of this, and +get up the matter for a dodger, too."</p> + +<p>"Say, Bart," said Darry eagerly, "we can print +the dodgers—my brother and I—as good as a +regular office. You know we've got a good +amateur outfit at home. Father was an editor, +and I'll get him to write up a first-class stunner +of an advertisement. Can't you throw the job +our way?"</p> + +<p>"If you make the price right, of course," answered +Bart.</p> + +<p>"We can afford to underbid them all," declared +Darry; and so the matter was settled.</p> + +<p>"Oh, by the way," said Darry, as he was about +to leave—"Lem Wacker's out of a job again."</p> + +<p>"You don't surprise me," remarked Bart, "but +how is that?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Martin & Company are buying green +peppers at seventy cents a bushel. They heard +that down at Arlington someone was offering them +to the storekeepers at one dollar for two bushels, +investigated, detected Dale Wacker peddling the +peppers from factory bags, and found that his uncle, +Lem, was mixed up in the affair. Anyway, Dale's +father had to settle the bill, and they fired Lem."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lem Wacker is bad enough when at +work," remarked Bart, "but out of work I fear he +is a dangerous man. All right!" he called, hurrying +to the door as there was a hail from outside.</p> + +<p>Colonel Harrington's buckboard was backed to +the platform and its driver was unloading a large +trunk.</p> + +<p>Bart helped carry it in, dumped it on the scales, +went to the desk, got the receipt book, and reading +the label on the trunk found that it was directed +to Mrs. Harrington at Cedar Springs, the summer +resort to which the colonel had already gone.</p> + +<p>"Value?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Harrington didn't say, and I don't know. +If you saw all the finery in that trunk, though, +you'd stare. You see, Mrs. Harrington is going +to stay three weeks at the Springs, and is sending +on her finest and best. I'll bet they amount to a +couple of thousand dollars."</p> + +<p>Bart filled out a blank receipt, stamping it: +"Value asked, and not given."</p> + +<p>"It can't go till morning," he said.</p> + +<p>"That don't matter. The missus won't be going +down to the Springs till Saturday."</p> + +<p>"You have just missed the afternoon express," +went on Bart.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Lem Wacker said I would."</p> + +<p>"What has he got to do with it?" asked Bart.</p> + +<p>"Why, nothing, I gave him a lift down the +road, and he told me that."</p> + +<p>The driver departed. Bart stood so long looking +ruminatively at the trunk that Darry Haven +finally nudged his arm.</p> + +<p>"Hi! come out of it," he called. "What's +bothering you, Bart?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing—I was just thinking."</p> + +<p>"About that trunk, evidently, from the way you +stare at it."</p> + +<p>"Exactly," confessed Bart. "I believe I am +getting superstitious about anything connected +with the Harringtons or the Wackers. Here, +give me a lift."</p> + +<p>"All right. Where?"</p> + +<p>"Swing it up—I want to get it on top of the +safe."</p> + +<p>"What!" ejaculated Darry in profound amazement.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we don't handle property in the thousands +every day in the week."</p> + +<p>"But the company is responsible only up to +fifty dollars, when they don't pay excess."</p> + +<p>"That doesn't satisfy the shipper if there is any +loss. I feel we ought to be extra careful until we +get a new office with proper safeguards, and that +expensive outfit staying here all night worries me. +Up—hoist!"</p> + +<p>Bart settled the trunk on top of the safe, and on +top of that he set the lantern.</p> + +<p>When he locked up for the night he lit the +lantern, and went over to the freight platform +where the night watchman had just come on +duty.</p> + +<p>Bart knew him well and liked him, and the feeling +was reciprocal.</p> + +<p>He explained that a valuable trunk had to remain +overnight in the express shed, and how he +had placed it.</p> + +<p>"Just take a casual glance over there on your +rounds, will you, Mr. McCarthy?" he continued.</p> + +<p>"I certainly will. You set the lantern so it +shows things inside, and I'll keep an eye open," +acquiesced the watchman.</p> + +<p>Bart went home feeling satisfied and relieved at +the arrangement he had made.</p> + +<p>All the same he did not sleep well that night. +About daybreak he woke up with a sudden jump, +for he had dreamed that Colonel Harrington had +thrown him into a deep pit, and that Lem Wacker +was dropping Mrs. Harrington's precious trunk +on top of him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>AN EARLY "CALL"</h3> + + +<p>The young express agent was conscious that he +shouted outright in his nightmare, for the trunk +he was dreaming about as it struck him seemed +to explode into a thousand pieces.</p> + +<p>The echoes of the explosion appeared to still +ring in his ears, as he sat up and pulled himself +together. Then he discovered that it was a real +sound that had awakened him.</p> + +<p>"Only five," he murmured, with a quick glance +at the alarm clock on the bureau—"and someone +at the front door!"</p> + +<p>Rat, tat, tat! it was a sharp, distinct summons.</p> + +<p>"Why," continued Bart briskly, jumping out +of bed and hurrying on some clothes, "it's Jeff!"</p> + +<p>Jeff was "the caller" for the roundhouse. He +was a feature in the B. & M. system, and for ten +years had pursued his present occupation.</p> + +<p>"Something's up," ruminated Bart a little excitedly, +as he ran down the stairs and opened the +front door. "What is it, Jeff?"</p> + +<p>"Wanted," announced the laconic caller.</p> + +<p>"By whom?"</p> + +<p>"McCarthy, down at the freight house."</p> + +<p>"What's wrong?"</p> + +<p>"He didn't tell—-just asked me to get you +there quick as your feet could carry you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Jeff, I'll lose no time."</p> + +<p>Bart hurried into his clothes. Clear of the +house, he ran all the way to the railroad yards.</p> + +<p>As he rounded into them from Depot Street, +he came in sight of the express office.</p> + +<p>McCarthy, the night watchman, was seated on +the platform looking down in a rueful way.</p> + +<p>He got up as Bart approached, and the latter +noticed that he looked haggard, and swayed as +though his head was dizzy.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" cried out Bart irrepressibly.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Stirling," said the watchman, "but—look +there!"</p> + +<p>Bart could not restrain a sharp cry of concern. +The express office door stood open, and the padlock +and staples, torn from place, lay on the +platform. He rushed into the building. Then +his dismay was complete.</p> + +<p>"The trunk!" he cried—"it's gone!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is!" groaned McCarthy, pressing at +his heels.</p> + +<p>Bart cast a reproachful look at the watchman. +The lantern, too, had disappeared. He sank to +the bench, overcome. Finally he inquired faintly:</p> + +<p>"How did it happen?"</p> + +<p>"I only know what happened to me," responded +the watchman. "I was drugged."</p> + +<p>"When—where—by whom?"</p> + +<p>"It's guesswork, that, but the fact stands—I +was dosed. You asked me to watch, and I did +watch. Up to midnight that lantern on top of +the trunk wasn't out of my sight fifteen minutes +at a time."</p> + +<p>"And then?" questioned Bart.</p> + +<p>"I always go over to the crossing switch +shanty about twelve o'clock to eat my lunch. +The old switchman lends me his night key. +I put my lunch in on the bench when I come on +duty, and he always leaves the stove full of +splinters to warm up the coffee quick. When I +let myself in at midnight, the lantern here was +right as a beacon—I particularly noticed it."</p> + +<p>"How long was it before you came out again?"</p> + +<p>"Four hours afterwards—just a little while ago."</p> + +<p>"Then you—fell asleep?" said Bart.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did, and no blame to me. I'm no +skulker, as you well know. I never did such a +thing before in all my ten years of duty here. I +was doped."</p> + +<p>"How do you know that?" asked Bart.</p> + +<p>"I warmed up the coffee and had my lunch," +narrated the watchman. "Then I settled down +for a ten minutes' comfortable smoke, as I always +do. I felt sort of sickish, right away. I had +noticed that the coffee tasted queer, but I fancied +it might have been burned. Anyhow, half an +hour ago I seemed to come out of a stupor, my +head fairly splitting, and my stomach burning as +though I'd taken poison. I thought of poison, +somehow, and more so than ever as I reached +over to see if there was any coffee left, for my +throat was dry as a piece of pine board. There +wasn't, but at the bottom of the pail were two or +three little sticky brown dabs. I tasted the stuff. +It was opium. I know, for I've used it in sickness. +I stumbled out to get the air. The minute +I glanced over at the express office I guessed +it all out. It's a burglary, right and proper, Stirling, +and the fellows who did it knew I was on +the watch, got into the switch shanty, fixed the +coffee and put me to sleep."</p> + +<p>Bart rapidly turned over in his mind all that +the watchman had disclosed.</p> + +<p>"See here," he said promptly, "how many +keys are there to the switch shanty?"</p> + +<p>"Only one that I know anything of," responded +McCarthy. "There can't be many, or the old +switchman wouldn't have to lend me his key."</p> + +<p>"Lem Wacker subbed for him once, didn't +he?" inquired Bart pointedly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, for a day or two—say! you don't +think—" began the watchman, with a start of suspicion.</p> + +<p>"I'm not thinking anything positive," interrupted +Bart—"I am only seeking information. +When Wacker subbed for the old switchman, +did he have a special key?"</p> + +<p>"N—no," answered the watchman hesitatingly, +"for I remember Wacker loaned me the old switchman's +key the first night. Hold on, though!" +cried McCarthy with a spurt of memory, "it comes +back to me clear now. The next night he told +me to keep the key till the old switchman came +back on duty—so he must have had an extra one +of his own. They are easily got—it's a common, +ordinary lock."</p> + +<p>Bart's lips shut close. He went outside, looked +keenly around, and jumped down from the platform.</p> + +<p>The watchman trailed out after him, watching +him in a worried, discouraged way. There was +no doubting the word of a trusted employee like +McCarthy, and Bart realized that he felt very +badly over the matter.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Stirling—have you found anything?" +asked the watchman eagerly, as Bart, +after inspecting the roadway, still more narrowly +regarded the edges of the platform boards, running +his finger over them in a critical way.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have," announced Bart—"that trunk +was taken away from here in a wagon."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"Look at those fresh wheel tracks," directed +Bart, pointing to the road. "They sided a wagon +up to the platform, right here. So close, that a +wheel or the body of the wagon scraped along the +edges of the boards. The paint was fresh. And +it was bright red," added Bart.</p> + +<p>"You're a good one to guess that out," muttered +the watchman. "Why, say—"</p> + +<p>McCarthy gave a prodigious start and put his +hand up to his head, as if some idea had occurred +to him with tremendous force. "You mentioned +Lem Wacker. It's funny, but last week Wacker +bought a new wagon."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure of that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was the same one that his scapegrace +nephew, Dale Wacker, was caught peddling the +stolen pickles in. I saw Lem painting it fresh +out in his shop only two days ago. You know I +live just beyond him."</p> + +<p>"What color?"</p> + +<p>"Red."</p> + +<p>"Then Lem Wacker must know something +about this burglary!" declared Bart.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>AT FAULT</h3> + + +<p>"I am sorry," again said the night watchman, +after a long thoughtful silence on the part of Bart.</p> + +<p>"I know you are, Mr. McCarthy," returned +Bart, "but nobody blames you. I've got to get +back that trunk, though! you are positive about +Lem Wacker's wagon being newly painted?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sure."</p> + +<p>"And red?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a bright red. Wacker lives near us, as +I said. I strolled down the alley day before yesterday. +I saw his shed doors open, and Wacker +putting on the paint. I remember even joking +him about his experience in painting the town the +same color once in awhile. He took that as a +compliment, Lem did. It seems he traded for +the wagon some time ago. He told me he was +going to start an express company of his own."</p> + +<p>"He seems to have done it—so far as that +trunk is concerned!" murmured Bart. "Mr. +McCarthy, you and I are friends?"</p> + +<p>"Good friends, Stirling."</p> + +<p>"And I can talk pretty freely to you?"</p> + +<p>"I see your drift—you think Lem Wacker had +a hand in this burglary?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly do."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll say that I don't think he's beyond +it," observed the watchman. "You'll find, +though, he only had a hand in it. His way is +generally using someone else for a cat's-paw."</p> + +<p>"I am going to ask you to do something for +me," resumed Bart seriously—"I'm going to get +back that trunk—I've got to get it back."</p> + +<p>"The company ought to provide you with a +safe, decent building."</p> + +<p>"That will come in time."</p> + +<p>"No one can blame you. They can't expect +you to sit up watching all night, nor carrying +trunks to bed with you for safe-keeping."</p> + +<p>"No, but the head office, while it might stand +an accidental fire, will not stand a big loss on top +of it. My ability to handle this express proposition +successfully is at stake and, besides that, I +would rather have almost anybody about my ears +than Mrs. Harrington."</p> + +<p>"The colonel's wife is a Tartar, all right," +bluntly declared the night watchman. "Hello! +here's somebody from Harrington's, now."</p> + +<p>The same buckboard that had driven up the +afternoon previous, came dashing to the platform +as McCarthy spoke.</p> + +<p>It was in charge of the same driver, who +promptly hailed Bart with the words:</p> + +<p>"That trunk gone yet?"</p> + +<p>"No, not yet," answered Bart.</p> + +<p>"Then I'm in time. Mrs. Harrington wanted +to put something else in—this box. Forgot it, +yesterday," and the speaker fished up an oblong +package from the bottom of the wagon.</p> + +<p>"It will have to go separate," explained Bart.</p> + +<p>"Can't do that—it's a silk dress, and not +wrapped for any hard usage. Why, what's happened!" +pressed the colonel's man, shrewdly scanning +the disturbed countenances of Bart and the +watchman. "Door lock smashed, too, and—say! +I don't see the trunk!"</p> + +<p>He had stepped to the platform and looked inside +the express shed.</p> + +<p>Bart thought it best to explain, and did so. It +made him feel more crestfallen than ever to trace +in the way his auditor took it, that he anticipated +some pretty lively action when Mrs. Harrington +was apprised of her loss.</p> + +<p>"You can tell Mrs. Harrington that everything +possible is being done to recover the trunk," Bart +told the man as he drove off. "Now then, Mr. +McCarthy," he continued, turning to his companion, +"I am going to ask you to take charge here +till I return. I will pay you a full day's wages, +even if you have to stay only an hour."</p> + +<p>"You'll pay me nothing!" declared the watchman +vigorously. "I'll camp right in your service +as soon as the seven o'clock whistle blows, and +you get on the trail of that missing trunk."</p> + +<p>"I intend to," said Bart. "I will get Darry +Haven to come down here. He knows the office +routine. In the meantime, we had better not say +much about the burglary."</p> + +<p>"Are you going on a hunt for Lem Wacker?"</p> + +<p>"I am."</p> + +<p>Bart went first to the Haven home. He found +Darry Haven chopping wood, told him of the +burglary, and asked him to get down to the express +office as soon as he could.</p> + +<p>"If you don't come back by nine o'clock, I will +arrange to stay all day," promised Darry.</p> + +<p>Then Bart went to the house where Lem +Wacker lived. It was characteristic of its proprietor—ricketty, +disorderly, the yard unkept and +grown over with weeds.</p> + +<p>Smoke was coming out of the chimney. Someone +was evidently astir within, but the shades were +down, and Bart stole around to the rear.</p> + +<p>The shed doors were open, and the wagon +gone and the horse's stall vacant.</p> + +<p>Bart went to the back door of the house and +knocked, and in a few minutes it was opened by +a thin-faced, slatternly-looking woman.</p> + +<p>Bart knew who she was, and she apparently +knew him, though they had never spoken together +before. The woman's face looked interested, +and then worried.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Mrs. Wacker," said Bart, +courteously lifting his cap. "Could I see Mr. +Wacker for a moment?"</p> + +<p>"He isn't at home."</p> + +<p>"Oh! went away early? I suppose, though, +he will be back soon."</p> + +<p>"No, he hasn't been home all night," responded +the woman in a dreary, listless tone. +"You work at the railroad, don't you? Have +they sent for Lem? He said he was expecting a +job there—we need it bad enough!"</p> + +<p>She glanced dejectedly about the wretched +kitchen as she spoke, and Bart felt truly sorry for +her.</p> + +<p>"I have no word of any work," announced +Bart, "but I wish to see Mr. Wacker very much +on private business." When did he leave home?</p> + +<p>"Last night at ten o'clock."</p> + +<p>"With his horse and wagon?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," admitted the woman, with a sudden, +wondering glance at Bart. "How did you +know that?"</p> + +<p>"I noticed the wagon wasn't in the shed."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he sold it—and the horse."</p> + +<p>"When, Mrs. Wacker?"</p> + +<p>"Last night some men came here, two of +them, about nine o'clock. They talked a long +time in the sitting room, and then Lem went out +and hitched up. He came into the kitchen before +he went away, and told me he had a chance +to sell the rig, and was going to do it, and had to +go down to the Sharp Corner to treat the men +and close the bargain."</p> + +<p>"I see," murmured Bart. "Who were the +men, Mrs. Wacker?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. One of them was here with +Lem about two weeks ago, but I don't know his +name, or where he lives. He don't belong +in Pleasantville. Oh, dear!" she concluded, with +a sigh of deep depression, "I wish Lem would +get back on the road in a steady job, instead of +scheming at this thing and that. He'll land us +all in the poorhouse yet, for he spends all he gets +down at the Corner."</p> + +<p>Bart backed down the steps, feeling secretly +that Lem Wacker would have a hard time disproving +a connection with the burglary.</p> + +<p>"Take care of the dog!" warned Mrs. Wacker +as she closed the door.</p> + +<p>Bart, passing a battered dog-house, found it +tenantless, however.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if Lem Wacker has sold the dog, +too?" he reflected. "Poor Mrs. Wacker! I +feel awfully sorry for her."</p> + +<p>Bart walked rapidly back the way he had +come. It was just a quarter of seven when he +reached a half-street extending along and facing +the railroad tracks for a single square.</p> + +<p>The Sharp Corner was a second-class groggery +and boarding house, patronized almost entirely +by the poorest and most shiftless class of trackmen.</p> + +<p>Its proprietor was one Silas Green, once a +switchman, later a prize fighter, always a hard +drinker, and latterly so crippled with rheumatism +and liquor that he was just able to get about.</p> + +<p>Bart went into the place to find its proprietor +just opening up for the day. The dead, tainted +air of the den made the young express agent +almost faint. As it vividly contrasted with the +sweet, garden scented atmosphere of home, he +wondered how men could make it their haunt, +and was sorry that even business had made it +necessary for him to enter the place.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Green," he said, approaching the bar, "I +am looking for Lem Wacker. Can you tell me +where I may find him?"</p> + +<p>"Eh? oh, young Stirling, isn't it? Wacker? +Why, yes, I know where he is."</p> + +<p>He came out slowly from the obscurity of the +bar, blinking his faded eyes.</p> + +<p>Bart knew he would not be unfriendly. His +father, one stormy night a few years previous, had +picked up Green half frozen to death in a snowdrift, +where he had fallen in a drunken stupor.</p> + +<p>Every Christmas day since then, Green had +regularly sent a jug of liquor to his father, with +word by the messenger that it was for "the +squarest man in Pleasantville, who had saved his +life."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stirling had set Bart a practical temperance +example by pouring the liquor into the +sink, but had not offended Green by declining +his well-meant offerings.</p> + +<p>Bart remembered this, and felt that he might +appeal to Green to some purpose.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Wacker is not at home," he explained, +"and I wish to find him. I understand he was +here last night."</p> + +<p>"He was," assented Green. "Came here about +ten, and hasn't left the house since."</p> + +<p>"Why!" ejaculated Bart—and paused abruptly. +"He is here now?"</p> + +<p>"Asleep upstairs."</p> + +<p>"And he has been here since—he is here now!" +questioned Bart incredulously.</p> + +<p>"He was, ten minutes ago, when I came down—" asserted +Green.</p> + +<p>Bart stood dumbfounded. He was at fault—the +thought flashed over his mind in an instant.</p> + +<p>It would not be so easy as he had fancied to run +down the burglars, for if what Silas Green said was +true, Lem Wacker could prove a most conclusive +<i>alibi</i>.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>A FAINT CLEW</h3> + + +<p>"What's the trouble, Stirling?" inquired Silas +Green, as Bart stood silently thinking out the problem +set before him. "You seem sort of disappointed +to find Wacker here. If you didn't think +he was here, why did you come inquiring for him?"</p> + +<p>"I knew he came here last night," said Bart. +"Mrs. Wacker told me so."</p> + +<p>"Do you want to see him?"</p> + +<p>"No, I think not," answered Bart after a moment's +reflection.</p> + +<p>"Then is there anything else I can do for you, +or tell you? You seem troubled. They say I'm +a crabbed, treacherous old fellow. All the same, +I would do a good turn for Robert Stirling's +son!"</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Bart, feeling easier. "If +you will, you might tell me who was with Lem +Wacker last night."</p> + +<p>"Two men—don't know them from Adam, +never saw them before. Lem drove up with +them in his rig about ten o'clock. They took +the horse and wagon around to the side shed and +came in, drank and talked a lot among themselves, +and finally started playing cards in the +little room yonder."</p> + +<p>"By themselves?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Once, when I went in with refreshments, +Wacker was in a terrible temper. It +seemed he had lost all his money, and he had +staked his rig and lost that, too. One of the two +men laughed at him, and rallied him, remarking +he would have 'his share,' whatever that meant, in +a day or two, and then they would meet again and +give him his revenge. By the way, I'm off in +my story—Wacker did leave here, about eleven +o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Alone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. He was gone half an hour, came back +looking wise and excited, joined his cronies again, +and at midnight was helpless. My man and +I carried him upstairs to bed."</p> + +<p>"What became of the two men?"</p> + +<p>"They sat watching the clock till closing +time, one o'clock, went out, unhitched the horse, +and drove off."</p> + +<p>"I wish I knew who they were," murmured +Bart.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I might worry it out of Wacker, +when he gets his head clear," suggested Green.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe he would tell you the truth—and +he might suspect."</p> + +<p>"Suspect what?" demanded Green keenly.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Mr. Green. Can I take a look +into the room where they spent the evening?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly—go right in."</p> + +<p>Bart held his breath, nearly suffocated by the +mixed liquor and tobacco taint in the close, disorderly +looking apartment.</p> + +<p>His eye passed over the stained table, the +broken glasses and litter of cigar stubs. Then +he came nearer to the table. One corner was +covered with chalk marks.</p> + +<p>They apparently represented the score of the +games the trio had played. There were three +columns.</p> + +<p>At the head of one was scrawled the name +"Wacker," at the second "Buck," at the third +"Hank."</p> + +<p>Bart wondered if he had better try to interview +Lem Wacker. He decided in the negative.</p> + +<p>In the first place, Wacker would not be likely +to talk with him—if he did, he would be on his +guard and prevaricate; and, lastly, as long as +he was asleep he was out of mischief, and helpless +to interfere with Bart.</p> + +<p>The young express agent left the Sharp Corner +without saying anything further to Silas Green.</p> + +<p>He had his theory, and his plan. His theory +was that Lem Wacker, with a perfect knowledge +of the express office situation, had "fixed" the +night watchman's lunch, and employed two accomplices +to do the rest of the work.</p> + +<p>When Wacker woke up, he would simply +say he had sold his rig to two strangers, and, +so far as the actual burglary was concerned, +would be able to prove a conclusive <i>alibi</i>.</p> + +<p>The men who had committed the deed had +driven off with the wagon and trunk, and by this +time were undoubtedly at a safe distance in +hiding.</p> + +<p>Bart went home, got his breakfast, told his +mother a trunk had got lost and he might have +to go down the road to look it up, returned to +the express office, found Darry Haven and McCarthy +on duty, gave them some routine directions, +and left the place.</p> + +<p>Darry Haven followed him outside with a +rather serious face.</p> + +<p>"Bart," he said anxiously, "Mrs. Colonel +Harrington drove down here a few minutes +ago."</p> + +<p>"About the trunk, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and she was wild over it. Said you had +got rid of the trunk to spite her, because she had +had some trouble with your mother."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! Anything else?"</p> + +<p>"If the trunk don't show up to-day, she says +she will have you arrested."</p> + +<p>Bart shrugged his shoulders, but he was consciously +uneasy.</p> + +<p>"What did you tell her, Darry?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"I put on all the official dignity I could assume, +but was very polite all the time, informed her +that mislaid, delayed and irregular express matter +were common occurrences, that the company was +responsible for its contracts, counted you one of its +most reliable agents, and assured her that very +possibly within twenty-four hours she would find +her trunk delivered safe and sound at its destination."</p> + +<p>"Good for you!" laughed Bart. "Keep an +eye on things. I'll show up, or wire, by night."</p> + +<p>"Any clew, Bart?"</p> + +<p>"I think so."</p> + +<p>Bart went straight to the home of Professor +Abner Cunningham.</p> + +<p>That venerable gentleman—antiquarian, scientist +and profound scholar—had a queer little place +at the edge of the town where he raised wonderful +bees, and grew freak squashes inside glass molds +in every grotesque shape imaginable.</p> + +<p>He was a friend to all the boys in town, and +Bart joined him without ceremony as he found +him out on the lawn in his skull cap and dressing +gown, studying a hornets' nest with a magnifying +glass.</p> + +<p>"Ah, young Bartley—or Bartholomew, is it?" +smiled the innocent-faced old scientist jovially. +"I have a new volume on nomenclature that gives +quite an interesting chapter on the Bartholomew +subject. It takes you back to the eleventh century, +in France—"</p> + +<p>"Professor, excuse me," interrupted Bart gracefully, +"but something very vital to the twentieth +century is calling for urgent attention, and I +wanted to ask you a question or two."</p> + +<p>"Surely. Glad to tell you anything," assured +the professor, happiest always when he was talking, +and willing to talk for hours with anyone +who would listen to him. "Come into the library."</p> + +<p>"I really haven't the time, Professor," said +Bart. "Please let me ask if you had charge of +getting up that directory of the county that a city +firm published?"</p> + +<p>"Two years ago? yes," nodded the professor +assentingly. "It was quite a pleasant and profitable +task. I believe I saw about every resident in +the county in preparing that directory."</p> + +<p>"I am going to ask you a foolish question, perhaps, +Professor," continued Bart, "for an accurate +person like you of course took down only correct +names, and not nicknames. Here is the gist of it, +then. I am looking for two men, and I know +only that they live outside of Pleasantville, and +call themselves Buck and Hank."</p> + +<p>"Well! well! well!" muttered Professor Cunningham +in a musing tone. "Hank, proper +name Henry; Buck, proper name Buckingham—hold +on, I've got it! Come in!" insisted the +professor animatedly. "Oh, you haven't time? +Buckingham? Sure thing! Wait here, just a +minute."</p> + +<p>The professor rushed into the house, and +in about two minutes came rushing out again.</p> + +<p>He had an open book in his hand, and +stumbled over flower beds and walks recklessly +as he consulted it on the run, spilling out some +loose papers it contained, and leaving a white +trail behind him.</p> + +<p>"You see here the value of keeping notes of +everything," he panted, on reaching Bart—"nothing +is lost in this world, however small. Here +we are: 'County at large.' Now then, in my +private notes: 'Allessandro' uncommon name—'look +up—probably Greek.' 'Alaric, Altemus, +Artemas, Benno, Borl, Bud—derived from Budlongor, +Budmeister—Buck'—I've got it: 'Buckingham, +last name Tolliver, residence: Millville, +occupation none.' Hold on. We've got the +clew—now for the town record."</p> + +<p>The Professor again flitted away to the house, +and darted back again with a new volume in his +hand.</p> + +<p>"Here you are!" he cried, selecting a printed +page. "'Millville, population two hundred and +sixty, not on railroad. R.S.T. Tappan, Tevens, +Tolliver'—Ah, 'Buckingham Tolliver, Henry +Tolliver,' must be brothers, I fancy. That's all +I've got on record. Information any use to +you?"</p> + +<p>"Is it?" cried Bart, in profound admiration +of the old bookworm's system. "Professor, +you are the wisest man and one of the best men +I ever met!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>A DUMB FRIEND</h3> + + +<p>At three o'clock that afternoon Bart Stirling +sat down to rest at the side of a dusty country +road, pretty well tired out, and about ready to +return to Pleasantville.</p> + +<p>When old Professor Cunningham gave him +the names Buck and Hank Tolliver, Bart was +positive that the same covered the identity of the +two men who had been at the Sharp Corner with +Lem Wacker.</p> + +<p>Bart had started at once for Millville. His +first intention was to get a conveyance at the +livery stable, his first impulse to solicit the co-operation +of the town police.</p> + +<p>While discussing these points mentally, however, +a farmer driving west came down the road. +He had a good team, said he was passing through +Millville, seemed glad to give Bart a lift, and so +it was that the young express agent found himself +on the solitary lookout there, two hours before +noon.</p> + +<p>He experienced no difficulty whatever in finding +out all about the Tollivers inside of twenty +minutes after his arrival.</p> + +<p>They were the last members of a shiftless, +indolent family who had lived on the edge of +Millville for twenty years.</p> + +<p>When the father and mother died the family +broke up. The two boys, Buck and Hank, kept +bachelor's hall at the ricketty old ruin of a house +on the river until ejected by its owner for non-payment +of rent, and then went to the bad generally.</p> + +<p>They patched up an abandoned shack over on +the bottoms, the postmaster at Millville told +Bart, and lived by fishing, hunting and their depredations +on orchards and chicken coops.</p> + +<p>In one of their nightly forays about a year previous +they were captured and fined heavily. +They could not pay the fine and were sent to +jail for six months.</p> + +<p>About the first of June they were released, came +back to Millville, found their old shack burned +down, and since then, the postmaster understood, +had camped out in the woods, giving the town a +wide berth—in fact, only occasionally appearing, to +buy a little flour, sugar or coffee, or, mostly, +tobacco.</p> + +<p>Nobody had seen them for over a week—nobody +knew anything of a newly-painted red +wagon.</p> + +<p>It seemed probable, Bart theorized, that if they +had made for hiding in any of their familiar woodland +haunts, they had reached the same by driving +through Millville before daylight, and when nobody +was astir.</p> + +<p>Bart finally found a woodcutter who knew where +the Tollivers had had their camping place the +week previous. He described the spot and Bart +was soon there—a secluded gully about two miles +from town.</p> + +<p>The place showed evidences of having been +used as a camp, but not recently, and Bart went +on a general blind hunt.</p> + +<p>He traversed the woods for miles, both sides of +a dried up rivercourse, and inquired at farmhouses +and of occasional pedestrians he met.</p> + +<p>It was all of no avail. At three o'clock in the +afternoon, tired, bramble-torn and a little discouraged, +he sat down by the roadside to rest and +think. He began to censure himself for taking +the independent course he had pursued.</p> + +<p>"I should have telegraphed the company the +circumstances of the burglary, and put the matter +in the hands of the Pleasantville police," he reflected. +"If the trunk had belonged to anybody +except Mrs. Colonel Harrington, I would have +done so at once. Somebody coming!" he interrupted +his soliloquy, as he caught a vague movement +through the shrubbery where the road +curved.</p> + +<p>"No—it's only a dog."</p> + +<p>The animal came into view going a straight, fast +course, its head drooping, a broken rope trailing +from its neck.</p> + +<p>Bart suddenly sprang to his feet, for, studying +the animal more closely, something familiar presented +itself and he ran out into the middle of the +road.</p> + +<p>"Come here—good fellow!" he hailed coaxingly, +as the animal approached.</p> + +<p>But with a slight growl, and eyeing him suspiciously, +it made a detour in the road, passing him.</p> + +<p>"Lem Wacker's dog—I am sure of that!" explained +Bart, naturally excited. "Come, old fellow—here! +here! what is his name? I've got it—Christmas. +Come here, Christmas!"</p> + +<p>The dog halted suddenly, faced about, and +stared at Bart.</p> + +<p>Then, when he repeated the name, it sank to +its haunches panting, and, head on one side, regarded +him inquiringly.</p> + +<p>The animal was a big half-breed mastiff and +shepherd dog that Lem Wacker had introduced +to his railroad friends with great unction, one +Christmas day.</p> + +<p>He had claimed it to be a gift from a friend +just returned from Europe, who had brought over +the famous litter of pups of which it was one.</p> + +<p>Wacker had estimated its value at five hundred +dollars. Next day he cut the price in half. New +Year's day, being hard up, he confidentially offered +to sell it for five dollars.</p> + +<p>After that it went begging for fifty cents and +trade, and no takers. Lem kicked the poor animal +around as "an ornery, no-good brute," and +had to keep it tied up on his own premises all of +the time to evade paying for a license tag.</p> + +<p>Meeting the dog now, gave a new animation +to Bart's thoughts.</p> + +<p>The sequence of its appearance, here, ten miles +away from home, was easy to pursue. It had +broken away from its new owners—Buck and +Hank Tolliver—and they were somewhere further +up the road.</p> + +<p>Christmas was making for home. It was hardly +possible that the animal knew Bart, for, although +he had seen it several times, he had never spoken +to it before. The call of its name, however, had +checked the animal, and now as Bart drew a +cracker from his pocket and extended it, the +dog began to advance slowly and cautiously towards +him.</p> + +<p>Bart saw the importance of making a friend of +the animal. He stood perfectly still, talking in +a gentle, persuasive tone.</p> + +<p>Christmas came up to him timorously, sniffed +all about his feet, and suddenly wagged its tail +and put its feet up on him in a friendly manifestation +of delight.</p> + +<p>Its keen sense of scent had apparently recognized +that Bart had been a visitor to the Wacker +home that day. It now took the cracker from +Bart's hand, then another, and as Bart sat down +again stretched itself placidly and contentedly at +his side.</p> + +<p>"This looks all right," ruminated Bart speculatively. +"If I can only get Christmas to go +back the way he came, I feel I have found the +right trail."</p> + +<p>Bart finally arose, and the dog, too. The animal +turned its face east, wagged its tail expectantly, +and eagerly studied Bart's face and movements.</p> + +<p>As he took a step up the road the animal's +tail went down, nerveless, and its eyes regarded +him beseechingly.</p> + +<p>"Come on, old fellow!" hailed Bart encouragingly, +patting the dog. It followed him reluctantly. +Then he made a rollic of it, jumping +the ditch, racing the animal, stopping abruptly, +leaping over it, apparently making Christmas forget +everything except that it had a friendly companion.</p> + +<p>At length Bart induced the dog to go ahead. +It led the way with evident reluctance. It would +stop and eye Bart with a decidedly serious eye. +He urged it forward, and finally it got down to a +slow trot, sniffing the road and looking altogether +out of harmony with its forced course.</p> + +<p>Christmas was about twenty yards ahead of +Bart at the end of a two miles' jaunt, when he +shied to the extreme edge of the road and drew +to his haunches.</p> + +<p>Here wagon tracks led into the timber. The +road had been used lately, Bart soon discerned.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Christmas!" he hailed, branching +off into the new obscure roadway.</p> + +<p>The dog circled him, but could not be induced +to leave the main road. Bart made a grab for +the trailing rope. The animal eluded him, gave +him one reproachful look, turned its nose east, +and shot off, headed for home like an arrow.</p> + +<p>"I've lost my ally," murmured Bart, "but I +think I have got my clew. Christmas does not +like this road, which looks as if he left his captors +somewhere down its length. I'll try to locate +them."</p> + +<p>Bart followed the tortuous windings of the +narrow road, through brush, over hillocks, down +into depressions, and finally into the timber.</p> + +<p>He came to a clearing, forcing his way past +a border of prickly bushes, the tops of which +seemed freshly broken, as though a wagon had +recently passed over them.</p> + +<p>As he got past them, Bart came to a decisive +halt, and stared hard and with a thrill of satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Twenty feet away, under a spreading tree, a +horse was tethered, and right near it was a red +wagon—holding a trunk.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>FOOLING THE ENEMY</h3> + + +<p>Our hero's impulse was to at once spring +into the wagon and see if the trunk was still +intact.</p> + +<p>A natural cautiousness checked him, however, +and he was glad of it a minute later as he detected +a rustling in the thick undergrowth back of the +tree.</p> + +<p>A human figure seemed suddenly to drop to +the ground, and a little distance to the left of it +Bart was sure he saw two sharp human eyes fixed +upon him.</p> + +<p>He never let on that he suspected for a moment +that he was not entirely alone, but, walking over to +a tree stump, where, spread out on a newspaper, +was the remains of a lunch, he acted delighted at +the discovery, picked up a hunk of bread in one +hand, a piece of cheese in the other, and, throwing +himself on the green sward at full length, proceeded +to munch the eatables, with every semblance +of satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Bart's mind worked quickly. He felt that it +was up to him to play a part, and he prepared to +do so.</p> + +<p>He was morally certain that two persons in +fancied hiding were watching his every movement, +and they must be Buck and Hank Tolliver.</p> + +<p>Bart hoped they had never seen him before; he +felt pretty certain that they did not know him at all.</p> + +<p>Bart sprang to his feet. He had thrown his +cap back on his head in a "sporty," off-handish +way, and he tried hard to impersonate a reckless +young adventurer taking things as they came, and +audacious enough to pick up a handy meal anyhow +or anywhere. He paid not the least apparent +attention to the wagon or the trunk, although +he cast more than one sidelong glance in that direction.</p> + +<p>He walked up to the horse, stroked its nose, +and said boisterously:</p> + +<p>"Wish I had this layout—wouldn't I reach +California like a nabob, though!"</p> + +<p>Then Bart went back to the stump. He purposely +faced the patch of brush where he knew +his watchers were lurking.</p> + +<p>Ransacking his pockets, with a comical, quizzical +grin on his face, he produced a solitary +nickel, placed it ostentatiously on the tree stump +and remarked:</p> + +<p>"Honesty is the best policy—there you are, +landlord! and much obliged for the handout."</p> + +<p>Then, striking a jaunty dancing step, he started +to cross the clearing, whistling a jolly tune.</p> + +<p>"Hey!"</p> + +<p>Bart half expected the summons. He halted +in professed wonderment, looked up, to the right, +to the left, in every direction except that from +which he was well aware the hail had come.</p> + +<p>"Look here, you!"</p> + +<p>Bart now turned in the right direction. A man +of about thirty had revealed himself from the +brush.</p> + +<p>He had small, bright eyes, a shrewd, narrow +face, and Bart knew from discription who he was—Buck +Tolliver.</p> + +<p>"Why, hello! somebody here?" exclaimed +Bart, feigning surprise and then fright, and he +made a movement as if to run for it.</p> + +<p>"Don't you bolt," ordered Buck Tolliver, advancing—"come +back here, kid."</p> + +<p>Bart slowly retraced his steps. Then he manifested +new alarm as a second figure stepped out +from the brush.</p> + +<p>Recalling what the Millville postmaster had +told him, the young express agent was quickly +aware that this second individual was Buck's +brother, Hank.</p> + +<p>Buck was the spokesman and leader. He +came up near to Bart and looked him over critically.</p> + +<p>"What you doing here?" he demanded, with +a suspicious frown.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," said Bart, with a grin.</p> + +<p>"Where do you come from?"</p> + +<p>"Me—nowhere!" chuckled Bart, winking deliberately +and then, walking over to the horse, he +fondled his long ears, with the remark: "If I +had a dandy rig like you've got here, I bet I'd +go somewheres, though!"</p> + +<p>"Where would you go?" inquired Buck Tolliver +curiously.</p> + +<p>"I'd go to California—that's the place to +do something, and make a name, and amount to +something."</p> + +<p>Bart's off-handed ingenuousness had completely +disarmed the men. He pretended to be busy +petting the horse, but saw Buck Tolliver slip +back to his brother, and a few quick questions +and answers passed between them. Then Buck +came up to him again.</p> + +<p>"See here, kid, are you acquainted around +here at all?"</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see me around here before?" +chaffed Bart audaciously.</p> + +<p>"Don't get fresh! This is business."</p> + +<p>"Why, yes—I reckon I could find my way +from Springfield to Bascober."</p> + +<p>Bart had mentioned two points miles remote +from the Millville district.</p> + +<p>"He'll do," spoke Hank Tolliver for the first +time. "Ask him, Buck."</p> + +<p>"Do you want to drive that rig a few miles for +us for a dollar?" asked Buck Tolliver.</p> + +<p>"Me?" cried Bart. "I guess so!"</p> + +<p>"Can you obey orders?"</p> + +<p>"Try me, boss."</p> + +<p>"He'll do, I tell you. What do you want to +waste time this way for!" snapped Hank Tolliver +irritably.</p> + +<p>"Hitch him up," ordered Buck to Bart. +"Come on, Hank."</p> + +<p>Bart chuckled to himself. He did not know +what all this might lead to, but it was a famous +start.</p> + +<p>While he was putting on the horse's harness +and hitching him up, the brothers spread a +piece of canvas over the wagon box. This +they tucked in, and completely covered trunk +and canvas with long grass pulled from the edge +of a water pit near by.</p> + +<p>Bart had the rig in full starting shape by the +time they had concluded their labors.</p> + +<p>"What's the ticket, Captain?" he inquired of +Buck, looking him squarely in the face.</p> + +<p>"You seem to know enough not to answer +questions about yourself," observed Buck—"try +and be as clever if anybody quizzes you about this +wagon."</p> + +<p>"Why should they?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, they may. If they do, you're from—let +me see—Blackberry Hill, remember?"</p> + +<p>"All right—with a load of garden truck, eh?" +propounded Bart ingeniously.</p> + +<p>"You hit it correct. What we want you to do +is this: Drive down to the main road, and turn +west. Keep on straight ahead, and don't turn +anywhere. About nine miles west you'll hit +Hamilton. Drive right through the town, but +as soon as you get out of it take the first branch +south from the turnpike, and keep on till you +reach an old mill on the river. Wait for us +there."</p> + +<p>"Why," said Bart, "aren't you going with +me?"</p> + +<p>"No," answered Buck Tolliver definitely.</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"None of your business," snapped out Hank.</p> + +<p>"Oh!"</p> + +<p>"You mind yours, strictly, or there will be +trouble," warned Buck, and Bart saw from the +look in his hard face that he was a dangerous +man, once aroused. "You do this job with neatness +and dispatch, and it will mean a good deal +more than a dollar."</p> + +<p>"Crackey!" cried Bart, snapping the whip hilariously—"maybe +this is one of those story-book +happenings where a fellow strikes fame and fortune!"</p> + +<p>"Maybe it is," assented Buck drily.</p> + +<p>Bart climbed up to the seat. He started up +the horse, the Tollivers following after the wagon +till they reached the main road.</p> + +<p>"When I get to the mill—" began Bart.</p> + +<p>"We'll be there to meet you," announced Buck +Tolliver.</p> + +<p>"I don't see," growled Hank in an undertone +to his brother, "why we would take any risk riding +under that grass."</p> + +<p>"You leave this affair to me," retorted Buck. +"If the kid gets through all right, then we're all +right, aren't we?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so."</p> + +<p>"And we've got to wait as we agreed—for +Wacker."</p> + +<p>Bart had just turned into the main road. At +the mention of that ominous name, the young express +agent brought the whip down upon the +horse's flanks with a sharp snap.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>BART ON THE ROAD</h3> + + +<p>"Get up!"</p> + +<p>The rig that Bart was driving sped along the +dusty country road at a good sharp pace.</p> + +<p>The young express agent was undergoing the +most vivid mental perturbation of his career.</p> + +<p>He kept whistling a jolly air, with a sidelong +glance observed that his recent companions had +turned back towards their camp in the clearing, +and then, dropping his assumption of the reckless +young adventurer, stared seriously ahead and began +to figure out the situation in all its details.</p> + +<p>What had come about was quite natural and +ordinary: the Tollivers were anxious to get further +away from the scene of their recent crime, to +a safer and more obscure haunt than the open +camp in the woods.</p> + +<p>They dared not take the journey in the day +time, as they did not wish to be seen by anyone +and Bart coming along, they had caught at the +idea of sending him on with the wagon and its +load.</p> + +<p>If Bart got through in safety, they could assume +that the hunt for the missing trunk was not very +active, or had been started in some other direction.</p> + +<p>Bart had comprehended that they could take a +short cut to the old mill. He had actually +laughed to himself at the ease with which he had +obtained possession of the trunk, until they had +mentioned that ominous name: Lem Wacker.</p> + +<p>"They are going to wait for Wacker!" murmured +Bart, as he urged on the horse. "That +means that they expect him soon, for they calculate +on being at the old mill as soon as I can +make it by road. When he does come, and they +tell him about me, he's sure to guess the truth. +Then it's three to one—get up!"</p> + +<p>Bart did not allow the horse to lag, but his best +pace was a poor shambling trot. All the time +Bart thought deeply and practically.</p> + +<p>"I have decided," he spoke definitely after a +quarter of an hour. "I shall turn to my left the +first road I come to. The B. & M. does not +touch short of eight miles from here, but somewhere +to the southeast is Clyde Station. Once +there, I'll risk the rest."</p> + +<p>The road was not an easy one. It was not +very smooth, and grew more stony and rutty as +he proceeded, and there was a sharp climb for the +horse as they reached a hilly landscape.</p> + +<p>Bart halted finally. A road branched to the +left. It did not look very inviting, nor did it seem +to be much in use, but as it led away from +the main highway, it broke the trail, and without +hesitation he turned the horse's head in the direction +of Clyde Station.</p> + +<p>The country was open here, all rocks, gullies +and pits. He was surprised to observe how little +distance he had really put between himself and +the Tolliver camp as the road wound out along +the crest of a hill.</p> + +<p>He jumped out to lighten the load and coax +up the horse. Then he stood stock-still, straining +his eyes across the valley.</p> + +<p>"I declare!" said Bart in a tone of profound +concern, "I got away just in time, but if that is +Lem Wacker, he has appeared on the scene just +ten minutes too soon to suit me."</p> + +<p>Over at the break in the woods a man had +appeared from the direction of Millville. He was +waving a hand, and then placing it to his mouth +as though hailing someone, probably the Tollivers +at the camp.</p> + +<p>Then he turned straight around. If Bart could +read anything at that distance, he could certainly +trace that the man was looking fixedly at the red +wagon, and the white horse, and himself.</p> + +<p>If it was Lem Wacker—and Bart believed that +it was—just one thing was in order: to get that +trunk to some town, to some station, to some +friendly farmhouse, in hiding anywhere, before +the pursuit, sure to follow, was started.</p> + +<p>Bart ran on, with a last glance at the lone distant +figure. He could not afford to wait to see +if the Tollivers joined it. Every minute was +precious.</p> + +<p>"Where is the horse?" exclaimed Bart.</p> + +<p>Dobbin had "got up." While Bart was surveying +the landscape, the old animal had plodded +on, and was now out of sight.</p> + +<p>Bart ran along the road. It turned between +two walls of slate. Then came the open again. +Here the road descended somewhat. The horse +stood at a halt. He had run easily a few rods, one +wheel had struck a deep rut, and the wagon had +broken down. It lay tilted over on one side, +one wheel completely caved in.</p> + +<p>Bart was dismayed. He reflected for a moment, +and then followed the road ahead for about +a hundred feet.</p> + +<p>It turned through some slate heaps, lined the +side of a deep excavation, and came to an abrupt +end where some boards, placed crosswise, barred +the sheer descent.</p> + +<p>Just such a valley spread out beyond the barrier +as on the other edge of the hill whence Bart +had seen the man he believed to be Lem Wacker.</p> + +<p>Here, however, the landscape was barren in +the extreme. There was not a house visible.</p> + +<p>Bart was in a dilemma, but he decided how he +would act. He first ran back to the spot whence +he had last viewed the break in the woods.</p> + +<p>A glance stirred him up to prompt and decisive +action.</p> + +<p>Three men were now in view. They were +running at their top bent of speed up the road he +had taken.</p> + +<p>"Lem Wacker and the Tollivers, sure!" murmured +Bart. "They know the wagon is up here +somewhere, and they will be here in less than +half an hour."</p> + +<p>Bart's one idea now was to locate some pit or +cranny where he could stow the trunk where it +could not be readily found.</p> + +<p>This done, he would start on foot in the direction +of Clyde Station to get assistance and return +before his enemies discovered it.</p> + +<p>There were all kinds of holes and heaps around +him, but too open and public to his way of thinking. +Exploring, he came to the board barrier +again, climbed over it, and more critically than before +scanned the fifty-foot descent, and what lay +at the bottom.</p> + +<p>"Why!" said Bart, in some astonishment, +"there's a railroad track—"</p> + +<p>He leaned over, and scrutinizingly ran his eye +along the dull brown stretch of raised rails.</p> + +<p>"And a hand car!" shouted the young express +agent joyfully.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>A LIMB OF THE LAW</h3> + + +<p>The single track which Bart had discovered +lined the bottom of the hill, followed it for a +distance, and then running across the valley +disappeared in among other hills and the timber.</p> + +<p>It was a rickety concern, was unballasted, and +looked as if, loosely thrown together, it had never +filled its original mission and had been practically +abandoned.</p> + +<p>"I don't know of any branch of the B. & M. +hereabouts," ruminated the young express agent—"certainly +none corresponding to this is on the +map. It is not in regular use, but that hand car +looks as if it was doing service right along."</p> + +<p>No one was in sight about the place, yet lying +in plain view on the hand car were three or four +coats and jumpers and as many dinner pails.</p> + +<p>"I have no time to figure it out," breathed +Bart quickly. "The first thing to do is to get +the trunk down there."</p> + +<p>Bart ran back to the wagon. He hurriedly +pulled away the grass covering and then the canvas.</p> + +<p>The trunk was revealed. He had his first full +glance at it since it had been delivered to him at +the express office at Pleasantville, the afternoon +previous.</p> + +<p>"It's all right," he said with satisfaction, after +a critical inspection. "There is the paster I +slapped over the front. The trunk could not +have been opened without tearing that."</p> + +<p>He got a good purchase on a handle and landed +the trunk in the road. Then he dragged it up to +the barrier, removed a board, and, perspiring and +breathing hard, held it at the sheer edge of the +decline and let it slide.</p> + +<p>The hand car was a light-running affair, well-greased, +in pretty good order, and he could +readily observe was in constant use.</p> + +<p>Upon it lay the clothing and dinner pails he +had noticed from overhead. They evidently belonged +to workmen—but where were they?</p> + +<p>"I can hardly wait to find out," declared Bart.</p> + +<p>He pushed off the clothing and dinner pails +and lifted on the trunk.</p> + +<p>Then Bart made a depressing discovery—the +hind gearing was locked with a chain running +from wheel to wheel.</p> + +<p>This was unfortunate. Turning a heap of slate, +he came suddenly and with delight upon an open +tool box.</p> + +<p>It was a regular construction case, and full of +shovels, crowbars, pickaxes, sledges and drills. +Bart selected a crowbar and his efforts to twist +and snap the chain resulted in final success. With +a thrill of satisfaction he sprang upon the car. +The handles moved easily and responsively to the +touch.</p> + +<p>A grumbling roar caused him to survey the sky, +which had been dull and lowering since noon.</p> + +<p>"Storm coming," he murmured—"now for action!"</p> + +<p>Bart started up the car. It ran as smooth as a +bicycle. He was anxious to get away from the +face of the hill, not knowing how near the enemy +might be.</p> + +<p>They were nearer than he fancied, for a sudden +shout rang out, then a chorus of them.</p> + +<p>A piece of rock, hurled down from the crest of +the hill, struck his wrist, nearly numbing it. +Glancing up, Bart saw the two Tollivers and Lem +Wacker getting ready to descend.</p> + +<p>There was a sharp incline and a short curve +not ten feet ahead. Bart let the hand car drive at +its own impetus.</p> + +<p>"Stop!" yelled Buck Tolliver.</p> + +<p>He held some object in his hand. Bart +crouched by the side of the pumping standard, +and the hand car spun out on the tracks crossing +the valley, just as the thunder-storm broke forth +in all its fury.</p> + +<p>Bart's back was to the wind, and the wind +helped his progress. As the tracks led into the +timber, Bart took a last glance backwards, but rain +and mist shut out all sight of the hill and his +enemies.</p> + +<p>He had no idea as to the terminus or connections +of the railroad, but never relaxed his efforts +as long as clear tracks showed beyond.</p> + +<p>Bart must have gone six or seven miles, when +he saw ahead some scattered houses, then a church +steeple and a water tower, and he caught the echo +of a locomotive whistle.</p> + +<p>"It's the B. & M., and that is Lisle Station!" +he soliloquized with unbounded satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Fifteen minutes later, wringing wet with rain +and perspiration, Bart drove the hand car up to a +bumper just behind a little country depot, and +leaped to the ground.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" hailed a man inside, the station +agent, staring hard at him through an open window.</p> + +<p>Bart nodded calmly, consulting his watch and +calculating mentally in a rapid way.</p> + +<p>"See here," he said briskly, "this is Lisle Station?"</p> + +<p>"Sure."</p> + +<p>"On the B. & M. Then the afternoon express +is due here from the east in twelve minutes."</p> + +<p>"You seem to be well-posted."</p> + +<p>"I ought to be," answered Bart—"I am the +express agent at Pleasantville."</p> + +<p>"What!" ejaculated the man incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Yes," nodded Bart, smiling. "Won't you +help me get this trunk to the platform?"</p> + +<p>The station agent came outside and lent a hand +as suggested, but he remarked:</p> + +<p>"The express doesn't stop here."</p> + +<p>"Flag it."</p> + +<p>"My orders—"</p> + +<p>"Won't interfere, in this case," insisted Bart. +"That trunk has got two thousand dollars worth of +stuff in it, and was stolen. I recovered it, the +thieves are after me, and it has got to go to Cedar +Lake on Number 18."</p> + +<p>"Well! well! well!" muttered the station +agent in a daze, but hastening to place the stop +signal.</p> + +<p>Bart went inside and unceremoniously approached +the office desk. He wrote on a slip +of paper, placed it in his pocket, shifted the trunk +to the head end of the platform, and stationed +himself beside it.</p> + +<p>"Is all that you're telling me true?" propounded +the bewildered station agent, sidling up +to Bart's side.</p> + +<p>"Every word of it."</p> + +<p>"Where did you get the hand car?"</p> + +<p>"I found it. Oh, by the way! I wish you +would explain to me about that railroad; what is +it, what excuse has it got for existing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that?" said the station agent "It's +the old quarry spur. A company built it five +years ago with grand plans for shipping mottled +tiling slate all over the country. Their +money gave out and the scheme was never put +through."</p> + +<p>"And the hand car?"</p> + +<p>"There's four men who live here who got the +privilege of digging out slate for a big plumbers' +supply house in the city. They go to the +quarry and back on the hand car daily. Did +they loan it to you?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Bart, "I was in a hurry, and had +to borrow it without permission."</p> + +<p>"They'll have a fine walk back here in this +storm!"</p> + +<p>"I was going to suggest," said Bart, taking +half a dollar from his pocket, "that you might +hire some boy to run the hand car back to +the quarry."</p> + +<p>"I can do that," answered the station agent.</p> + +<p>Number 18 came sailing down the rails. As +she slowed up, everyone on duty from the fireman +to the brakeman was on the lookout for the +cause of the unusual stop.</p> + +<p>The conductor jumped off and ran up to the +station agent, and while the latter was busy explaining +the situation Bart hammered on the +door of the express car.</p> + +<p>"Why it's Stirling!" cried old Ben Travers, +the veteran express messenger, sliding back the +door.</p> + +<p>"You're right, Mr. Travers," assented Bart. +"Here's a special and urgent. Get it aboard +before the conductor comes up and jumps all +over me for stopping the train."</p> + +<p>Travers popped down in a lively fashion. +They hoisted the trunk together and sent it +spinning into the car.</p> + +<p>"Cedar Lake, make a sure delivery, Mr. Travers," +directed Bart. "Here, put your manifesto +on that receipt, will you?" and Bart drew the slip +of paper he had written on in the depot from his +pocket.</p> + +<p>The conductor, a pompous, self-contained old +fellow, started towards Bart to haul him over the +coals, but Bart wisely walked farther down the +platform, the conductor gave the go-ahead signal +and shook his fist sternly at Bart, while the latter +with a gay, relieved laugh waved him back a +cheery, courteous good-by.</p> + +<p>Bart told the station agent a very little about +the history of the trunk. He left a dollar to pay +for the broken hand car lock. He was in high +spirits as he caught the east bound train. The +whistles were blowing for a quarter of six as he +reached Pleasantville and leaped from the engine, +where a friendly engineer had given him a free ride, +and in three minutes was at the door of the little express +office.</p> + +<p>Animated voices reached him from the inside. +Bart peered beyond the threshold.</p> + +<p>McCarthy, the night watchman, sat asleep in +a chair in a corner. Darry Haven was at the desk, +a spruce, solemn-faced young man beside him.</p> + +<p>"I'm here, Darry," announced Bart.</p> + +<p>Darry turned with a joyful face. It fell as he +glanced beyond his young employer to the empty +platform.</p> + +<p>"No trunk!" he murmured in a low, disappointed +tone.</p> + +<p>"Too heavy to carry around, you see!" smiled +Bart lightly. "Who is this gentleman? Oh, I +see—good afternoon, Mr. Stuart."</p> + +<p>"Afternoon," crisply answered the stranger.</p> + +<p>He was a young limb of the law, employed +since the previous year in the office of Judge +Monroe, the principal attorney of Pleasantville.</p> + +<p>Stuart was a butt for even the well-meaning +boys of the town. He was only nineteen, but he +affected the dignity of a sage of sixty, seeming to +have the idea that nothing but a severe and forbidding +manner could represent the high and lofty +calling he had condescended to follow.</p> + +<p>"Ah," he observed, turning upon Bart and +critically adjusting a single eyeglass, "is this the +express agent?"</p> + +<p>"That's me," assented Bart bluntly.</p> + +<p>"I represent Monroe, Purcell & Abernethy, +Attorneys," grandly announced Stuart. "We are +employed by Mrs. Harrington to prosecute an inquiry +as to a missing trunk."</p> + +<p>Darry looked very serious, Bart smiled serenely +in the face of his imperturbable visitor.</p> + +<p>"What is there to prosecute, Mr. Stuart?" he +inquired.</p> + +<p>"We have come to demand certified copies of +all entries and receipts of this office covering the +trunk in question," announced the young sprig of +the law.</p> + +<p>"Well?" interrogated Bart.</p> + +<p>"Your employee—assistant? here, declined to +act without your authority."</p> + +<p>"Quite right. I give it, though. Darry, make +out transcripts of the records. That is all clear +and regular."</p> + +<p>Bart turned on his heel, ran his eye over the +office books, and bored young Mr. Stuart terribly +by paying no further attention to him.</p> + +<p>The latter stood watching the industrious Darry +with owl-like solemnity. Finally the latter handed +a duplicate receipt and a copy of the entry to Stuart.</p> + +<p>"Will you officially attest to the correctness +of these, Mr.—Ah, Mr. Agent?" propounded +Stuart.</p> + +<p>"Sure," answered Bart with an off-handed +alacrity that was distressing to the responsibility +burdened personality of the accredited +representative of Monroe, Purcell & Abernethy.</p> + +<p>He dashed off an O.K. on the two documents, +tendered them with exaggerated courtesy +to his visitor, who he was well aware knew his name +perfectly, and said, with the faintest suggestion of +mimicry:</p> + +<p>"Ah, Mr.—Representative, would you kindly +inform me for what purpose you want these transcripts?"</p> + +<p>"They form the basis of a criminal prosecution," +announced young Stuart in a tone positively +sepulchral.</p> + +<p>"So?" murmured the young express agent +smoothly. "In that case, let me suggest that +you also take a copy of this document to submit +to your—superiors."</p> + +<p>Bart Stirling drew from his pocket the receipt +signed by old Ben Travers on the afternoon express +less than two hours previous.</p> + +<p>Stuart adjusted his eyeglass and superciliously +regarded the document. Then he turned and +gasped:</p> + +<p>"What—what is this?" he spluttered.</p> + +<p>"A receipt for the delivery of the basis of your +criminal prosecution," said Bart simply. "Mrs. +Colonel Harrington's trunk is safe and sound on +its way to its destination."</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!" irresistibly shouted Darry Haven.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3>BART STIRLING, AUCTIONEER</h3> + + +<p>It was "busy times" at the little express office +at Pleasantville.</p> + +<p>Bart had made home and lunch in half the +noon hour, and entered upon a renewal of his +duties with a brisk hail to his subordinates and +assistants, Darry and Bob Haven.</p> + +<p>On that especial day the services of both +had been required. They had arranged to give +their full time, and Bart noted that never were +there more industrious and enthusiastic colleagues.</p> + +<p>There was the sound of active hammering +as Bart entered the office, which Darry suspended +long enough to remark:</p> + +<p>"How's that for the audience?"</p> + +<p>The office space proper containing the desk +and the safe had been railed off, the express stuff +in and out packed conveniently in one corner, +and thus three-quarters of the room was given up +solely to the requirements of the day.</p> + +<p>A dozen rough benches filled in half the space. +Its other half, also railed off, held a heap of +packages, bundles, boxes, barrels, a mass of heterogeneous +plunder, packed up neatly, and convenient +for handling.</p> + +<p>Beside it was a raised platform, and this in +turn held a rough board table on which lay a +home-made gavel, and beside this was a high +desk holding a blank book and a tin box.</p> + +<p>What was "coming off" was the much advertised +unclaimed package sale of the express company.</p> + +<p>Bart had followed out the instructions received +from Mr. Leslie, the superintendent, when he +first took charge of the office at Pleasantville, +and the sale and its details had been quite an element +in his life during the past three weeks.</p> + +<p>The various small offices in the division had +sent in their uncalled for express matter, and this +was now grouped under the present roof.</p> + +<p>Mr. Haven, an ex-editor, had written up a +good "puff" for a local paper, inserted gratis +an exciting comment and anticipation in reference +to the impending sale, and Darry and Bob had +printed fifteen hundred dodgers on their home +press, very neat and presentable in appearance, +and these had been judiciously distributed for miles +around, and posted up in stores and depots.</p> + +<p>Bart had heard nothing further from the Harringtons—not +even the echo of a "thank you" +had reached him. Pleasantville for a day or two +had been full of rumors as to the express robbery, +but Bart decided to say very little about it, and +only his intimate friends knew the actual circumstances.</p> + +<p>McCarthy, the night watchman, however, accidentally +spread Bart's fame in the right direction. +He had a cousin working for the express company +in the city to whom he told the story. It +got to the ears of the superintendent of the express +company.</p> + +<p>Bart received a letter from Mr. Leslie the next +day, requiring a circumstantial report of the stolen +trunk. He answered this and received a prompt +reply, directing him thereafter to always report +such happenings at once, but his zeal and shrewdness +were heartily commended, and a check for +twenty-five dollars for extra services was inclosed.</p> + +<p>The twenty-five dollars Bart received was the +nest egg of a fund being saved up for his father's +benefit.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stirling could now distinguish night from +day, and in a few weeks they intended to take +him to an expert oculist in the city for special +treatment.</p> + +<p>Amid all this encouragement, Bart's life was +filled with contentment and earnest endeavor, +and he tried to deserve the good fortune that was +his lot, and fulfill every duty thoroughly. About +a week before the present time he had received a +brief letter from his roustabout friend, Baker, +dated from a town about fifty miles away, telling +him that he had been working on a steady job, +but had some business in Pleasantville in a few +days, and asked Bart to write him as to the +whereabouts of Colonel Harrington.</p> + +<p>Bart had replied to this letter, wondering what +mystery could possibly connect this homeless +vagabond and the great ruling magnate of Pleasantville.</p> + +<p>"Now then, my friends," said Bart briskly, as +he saw to it that everything was in order for the +sale, "the motto for the hour is quick action and +cash on delivery!"</p> + +<p>About two o'clock there were several arrivals. +Half an hour later the place was pretty well filled. +There were several village storekeepers, some +traveling men from the hotel, and railroad men +off duty.</p> + +<p>Nearly a dozen country rigs drove up to the +platform, and the rural population was well represented.</p> + +<p>At three o'clock prompt, as advertised, Bart ascended +the little platform and took up the gavel.</p> + +<p>Just then he nodded at a newcomer who entered +the doorway and quietly took a seat. It +was Mr. Baker.</p> + +<p>Bart was more pleased than surprised to see him. +He had anticipated his arrival the last two days.</p> + +<p>Bart tapped the table to call the crowd to order +and silence.</p> + +<p>Then he looked again at the doorway, and this +time with vivid interest.</p> + +<p>He saw Lem Wacker shuffle into view, glance +keenly around, fix his eye on Baker, and steal into +the room and sit down directly behind that mysterious +individual.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<h3>"GOING, GOING, GONE!"</h3> + + +<p>Bart made a first-class auctioneer—everybody +said so after the sale was over, and the pleased grins +and the good-natured attention of his audience +assured the young novice of this as he concluded +the introductory speech.</p> + +<p>He had prepared a simple, witty preface to actual +business, telling many truths of people who had +spent a few cents for what had turned out to be +worth many dollars, and inviting a good many +guesses by hinting what might be in the heap +upon which all eyes were fixed intently.</p> + +<p>"Number 1129," said Bart, after taking a brief +breathing spell.</p> + +<p>Bob Haven lifted a box about two feet square +to the table.</p> + +<p>"Shipped to William Brothers, Ross Junction," +announced Bart, reading the tag, "not found. +Come, gentlemen! what am I bid for lot 1129?"</p> + +<p>"What's in it?" inquired a big farmer sitting +near the front.</p> + +<p>"You will have to guess that," answered Bart +pleasantly. "Ah! some kind of liquid, I should +imagine," and he shook the box, its contents echoing +out a mellow, gurgling sound.</p> + +<p>"Mebbe it's paint, Samantha?" suggested the +farmer to his wife. "There'd be two gallons of +it—enough to cover the smokehouse. Ten +cents."</p> + +<p>"The charges are eighty-five," explained Bart—"can't +start it any lower."</p> + +<p>A blear-eyed, unsteady individual, whom Bart +recognized as a member of the Sharp Corner contingent, +advanced to the table.</p> + +<p>He was thirsty-looking and eager as he poked +at the box and tried to peer into it.</p> + +<p>"A demijohn!" he muttered, his mouth watering. +"Two gallons—probably prime old stuff. +Eighty-five cents."</p> + +<p>"Eighty-five—eighty-five!" repeated Bart.</p> + +<p>"Ninety," said the farmer.</p> + +<p>"Dollar!" mumbled the thirsty-looking man.</p> + +<p>"Do I hear any more?" challenged Bart, gavel +suspended, "once, twice, and sold to—cash."</p> + +<p>The inebriate paid his money, chuckled and +took the box to one side, hugging it like a pet +child, reached over and picked up the hatchet from +inside the railing, and pried open the corner of +the box.</p> + +<p>A gleesome roar of merriment interrupted Bart +as he called out the second lot.</p> + +<p>The inebriate stood disgustedly looking down +at the label on the demijohn he had brought to +light: "Bubbly Spring Mineral Water."</p> + +<p>Lot 943 was a cardboard box. The suggestion +of millinery made the farmer's wife a reckless bidder, +and the lot brought two dollars.</p> + +<p>Another roar went up from the crowd as she +eagerly inspected her purchase. It turned out to +be a man's silk hat.</p> + +<p>She looked spiteful enough to throw it out of +the window, but her husband, laughing at her, +doffed his worn straw, coolly put on the elaborate +headgear, and became thenceforward a target for +the quips of the merry idlers about the door.</p> + +<p>An oblong crate brought four dollars. Bob +Haven got this. He did not inspect his purchase at +once, but with glowing eyes whispered to his +brother as he pushed it to one side that he knew +it was a new bicycle.</p> + +<p>Bart hustled the various packages up for sale +and disposition with briskness and dispatch, and +Darry was more than busy keeping tab on his +record book and piling the cash into the tin +box.</p> + +<p>One fuming, perspiring man, looking too fat to +ever get cool, found the prize he had drawn was a +moth-eaten fur overcoat.</p> + +<p>Peter Grimm, notoriously the stingiest man in +Pleasantville, who raised the sourest apples in the +town and spent most of his time watching the boys +and picking up what fruit rolled outside of the +fence, bided his time with watchful ferret eyes +until a promising-looking package came along.</p> + +<p>It was bid up pretty high, and the crowd urged +him to disclose his treasure, but Grimm was not responsive +to any mutual human sentiment and sat +down with the package in his lap.</p> + +<p>He began a secret inspection, however, gradually +working off the paper covering at one end, +and with snapping eyes worming his fingers inside +the parcel.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a sharp click echoed out, followed by +a frightful yell.</p> + +<p>Grimm sprang to his feet, jumping quickly about +and swinging one arm wildly through the air, the +parcel dangling from it like a bulldog hanging on +to a coat tail.</p> + +<p>"Murder!" he screamed. "Take it off! take +it off!"</p> + +<p>Bart had to step down to the rescue. Peter +Grimm had drawn a patent mink trap, and was +its first victim. He sneaked from the express +office nursing his crushed fingers and kicking his +unlucky purchase out into the road.</p> + +<p>The pile of unclaimed stuff diminished rapidly. +The various purchases were productive of all kinds +of fun. Tom Partridge, the colored porter at the +hotel, got a case of face powder, and an exquisite +traveling man for a lace house drew a pair of +rubber boots that would fit a giant.</p> + +<p>One man disclosed his purchase to be a setting +of eggs. They were packed in cotton and intact, +though probably a year old.</p> + +<p>"Take them out—take them out," yelled the +crowd.</p> + +<p>Somebody dropped a piece of wood in the +box, and there was a pop. The farmer with the +plug hat he-hawed at the top of his voice, the +miserable owner of the eggs got mad at him, +some words ensued, the farmer started after him, +the egg owner ran, once outside fired an egg +which struck the smooth, shiny tile with a splatter, +and the farmer came back into the express +office holding his nose, bareheaded, and looking +for his rejected straw head-covering.</p> + +<p>Some, however, were more fortunate. Bart +encouraged and hurried the bidding on a large +crate, the contents of which he easily guessed, as +did also Tim Hager, the crippled son of a poor +widow. Tim got it for two dollars and twenty-five +cents, and it turned out to hold a first-class +sewing machine.</p> + +<p>"Your attention for a few moments, gentlemen," +called out Bart as there was a hustle +on the part of the audience getting together the +mass of stuff they had bought. "All the unclaimed +heavy express matter at Pleasantville was +burned up in the fire of July third, but some +twenty small parcels were in the safe, and those +we will now dispose of."</p> + +<p>"Money, jewelry, and such, I suppose?" propounded +Lawyer Stebbings, who loaned money +at a high rate of interest.</p> + +<p>"We make no such representations," responded +Bart. "I will say this, that no money +packages are among the lot. There may be +valuable papers, there may be jewelry—in fact, +some of the parcels have a given value up to +two hundred dollars—but the express company +guarantees nothing and you bid at your own +risk."</p> + +<p>"Good! let's have a sample," demanded Stebbings. +"Can I examine? Ah, thanks."</p> + +<p>The crowd passed from hand to hand a small +well-wrapped package.</p> + +<p>"Watch!" hoarsely whispered someone.</p> + +<p>"Feels like it!" said a second.</p> + +<p>Stebbings bid the lot up to four dollars and +got it. There was more fun as he unrolled the +numerous wrappings of the package to disclose a +small metal disc used in a threshing machine.</p> + +<p>One purchaser got a gold pen, another a very +pretty stick pin.</p> + +<p>Lem Wacker had not engaged in the general +commotion. He had retained his place on a +bench, looking bored, but for some reason sitting +out the session, and Bart wondered why.</p> + +<p>Baker took a mild interest in what was going +on, smiling appreciatively once in a while when +Bart made a witty hit or an unusually good +sale.</p> + +<p>Finally, however, Wacker put up his forefinger +as Bart was bidding off a thin wooden box +about four inches square.</p> + +<p>"Sender: Novelty Jewelry Company, no address," +read Bart, "shipped to James Barclay, +Millville—not found. This is a promising-looking +package. Gentlemen, what am I bid?"</p> + +<p>Lem Wacker seemed to have some spare cash, +for he paid two dollars for the box, swaggered off +with it, and opening it disclosed a very small +and neat pocket alarm clock.</p> + +<p>He wound it up, sent out its silvery call once +or twice for the edification of the crowd about him, +hoping to sell it off to someone, and then, there +being no purchaser, with a disappointed grunt +slipped it into his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Number 529," announced Bart a few minutes +later—"the last package, gentlemen!"</p> + +<p>The crowd was dispersing, Darry was counting +up the heap of bank notes and coin in the cash +box, Bob was gloating and wild with delight as +uncovering his purchase he brought to light a new +bicycle.</p> + +<p>The package Bart tendered was thin and flat. +Two tough pieces of cardboard held it stiff and +straight. It seemed to contain papers of some +kind, and so many bidders had bought old deeds, +contracts, plans, manuscripts and the like, utterly +valueless to them, that the lot hung at twenty-five +cents for several minutes.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, gentlemen!" urged Bart—"the +last may be the best. The charges are sixty-five +cents. Sender's name not given. Directed to +'A.A. Adams, Pleasantville'—not found."</p> + +<p>"Hoo! S—s—say!"</p> + +<p>Bart experienced something of a shock.</p> + +<p>The familiar cry of the ex-roustabout, Mr. +Baker, rang out sharp and sudden.</p> + +<p>Glancing at him, Bart saw that he had arisen to +his feet.</p> + +<p>His face was bloodless and twitching, his whole +frame a-quake. His eyes were snapping wildly. +He was like a man who could hardly speak or +stand, and fairly on the verge of a fit.</p> + +<p>A wavering finger he pointed at the young +auctioneer, and gasped out.</p> + +<p>"One dollar—two—three!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<h3>MR. BAKER'S BID</h3> + + +<p>The attitude, actions and announcement of the +mysterious Mr. Baker filled Bart Stirling with +profound surprise and wonderment.</p> + +<p>The young express agent well knew the erratic +temperment of his singular friend, but Baker had +been so placid and natural up to the present moment, +and this excitable outburst was so vivid and +unaccountable, that Bart felt sure that there was +some important reason for the same.</p> + +<p>All eyes were now fixed on Baker. He seemed +to put a dramatic climax to a varied entertainment, +and appeared unconscious of everything except the +package Bart held in his hand. His eyes were +fixed upon this steadfastly—they seemed to burn +right into it.</p> + +<p>Lem Wacker had also arisen to his feet. Bart +noticed him intently studying Baker, sidling up to +him and sinking to the bench directly next to him.</p> + +<p>There was a suspiciousness in the action that +enhanced Bart's interest and curiosity, but he preserved +his composure.</p> + +<p>"Three dollars, did you say?" he inquired, in +an insinuating and soothing, but strictly business +tone.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" gasped out Baker.</p> + +<p>"I am bid—"</p> + +<p>"Four."</p> + +<p>Bart looked fixedly at Lem Wacker, for it was +he who had spoken. Darry Haven dropped the +cover of the cash box, and also stared at Wacker. +There was something suggestive in the sensation +of the moment.</p> + +<p>Lem Wacker's face was as bold as brass. He +was dressed pretty well and looked prosperous, +and there was a mean sneer on his lips as he +shamelessly returned the glance of the boy he +had wronged, defiantly relying, apparently, on +some reserved power he fancied he possessed.</p> + +<p>Baker did not even look at the rival bidder. +His very soul seemed centered on the package in +Bart's hand.</p> + +<p>"Five," he uttered with an effort—"six, seven!"</p> + +<p>"Eight," said Wacker calmly, striking a cigarette +between his lips.</p> + +<p>"Ten."</p> + +<p>"Twelve."</p> + +<p>Baker was silent. A frightful spasm crossed +his face. He swayed from side to side. Then, +grasping at the bench rails to steady himself, he +came up to the platform.</p> + +<p>"Stirling!" he panted hoarsely, "I have no +more money, but I must—must have that package! +Lend me—"</p> + +<p>"Whatever you wish," answered Bart promptly.</p> + +<p>"Fifteen dollars!" said Baker.</p> + +<p>Lem Wacker jumped to his feet, excited. He +shot a hand into a pocket, drew it out again holding +a pocketbook, ran over its contents, and +shouted!</p> + +<p>"Sixteen dollars!"</p> + +<p>"Twenty!" cried Baker.</p> + +<p>"I am offered twenty dollars," said Bart, outwardly +cool as a cucumber, inwardly greatly perturbed +over the incident in hand, and hastening to +close it in favor of a friend. "Twenty dollars +once, twenty dollars twice—"</p> + +<p>"Stop!" yelled Lem Wacker.</p> + +<p>"Do you bid more?" asked Bart.</p> + +<p>"I—I do!"</p> + +<p>"How much?"</p> + +<p>"Double—treble—if I have to!" retorted +Wacker. "Only I want you to wait until I can +get the cash. I have only sixteen dollars with +me—I can get a hundred and sixty in two minutes, +I—"</p> + +<p>"Terms strictly cash," said Bart simply. "Going, +going, at twenty dollars—"</p> + +<p>"Hold on! Don't you dare!" raved Wacker, +swinging his arms about like a windmill. "I +demand that this sale be suspended until I can +get further funds."</p> + +<p>"Twenty dollars—gone!" sung out Bart in +the same business tone, "and sold to—cash."</p> + +<p>With a sigh of relief and weakness Baker swayed +sideways to a bench, first extending to Darry +Haven with a shaking hand a little roll of bills.</p> + +<p>"Charge me with the balance," said Bart +quickly to his assistant, in a low tone.</p> + +<p>"You've no right!" raved Lem Wacker loudly, +shaking his fist at Bart, and in a passion of uncontrollable +rage. "You'll suffer for this! I +protest against this sale—I demand that you do +not deliver that package, you young snob! you—"</p> + +<p>Lem Wacker was getting abusive. He pranced +about like a mad bull.</p> + +<p>A heavy hand dropped suddenly on his collar, +McCarthy, the watchman, gave him a shove towards +the door.</p> + +<p>"No talk of that kind allowed here," he remarked +grimly. "Get out, or I'll fire you +out!"</p> + +<p>As Wacker disappeared through the doorway, +Bart leaned from the platform.</p> + +<p>"Here is your package, Mr. Baker," he said. +"What is the trouble—are you ill?"</p> + +<p>Baker struggled to his feet. He was in a pitiable +state of agitation and nervousness.</p> + +<p>"No! no!" he panted, "you keep the package—for +a time. Till—till I explain. I've got it! +I've got it at last!" he quavered in an exultant +tone. "Air—I'm choking! I—I'll be back +soon—"</p> + +<p>He rushed to the door overcome, like a man on +the verge of a fit.</p> + +<p>Bart started to follow him. Just then, however, +one of the recent bidders came up to ask some +question about a purchase which required that +Bart consult the record book.</p> + +<p>When he had disposed of the matter, Bart +hurried to the outside. Baker was nowhere in +sight.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<h3>A NIGHT MESSAGE</h3> + + +<p>The crowd had melted away, Bob Haven was +totally engrossed with the magnificent prize he +had drawn, and Darry was busily engaged in +closing up the records of the sale.</p> + +<p>Bart was thoroughly mystified at the strange +conduct of Baker, and very much disappointed at +not finding him, now that he sought the mysterious +man.</p> + +<p>McCarthy had gone home, and Lem Wacker +was not in evidence. Some boys were guarding +a pile of stuff that had been purchased and +thrown aside. Bart set at work cleaning up the +package coverings that littered the place inside +and outside.</p> + +<p>Things were back to normal when the afternoon +express came in. It was nearly two hours +late, and closing time.</p> + +<p>There was the usual grist of store packages, +which Darry attended to, and several special envelopes. +These Bart placed in the safe along +with the proceeds of the day derived from the +sale, barely glancing over the duplicate receipt he +had signed for the messenger.</p> + +<p>He noticed that two of the specials were for +the local bank, and the third for the big pickle +factory of Martin & Company, at the edge of the +town.</p> + +<p>"Both closed up by this time," ruminated +Bart. "We can't deliver to-night. Anything +very urgent among that stuff, Darry?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," replied his young assistant.</p> + +<p>"You can go home, then," directed Bart. +"Pretty tired, eh? A big day's work, this."</p> + +<p>"Say, Bart," spoke up Darry, as he dallied at +the door, "who was the fellow that bought that +last package?"</p> + +<p>"A friend of mine, Darry," answered Bart +seriously. "And I am worried about him. He +is the man I told you about who helped me save +my father the night of the fire."</p> + +<p>"He acted very queerly. And Lem Wacker, +too," added Darry thoughtfully. "Is something +new up, Bart? The way Wacker carried on, he +seemed to have some idea in his head."</p> + +<p>"He had the idea he could bulldoze me," said +Bart bluntly, "and found he couldn't. What +bothers me is, why were both of them so anxious +to get this package?"</p> + +<p>Bart took it out of his pocket as he spoke, +nodded good night to Darry, and sat down on +a bench, turning the parcel over and over in his +hand.</p> + +<p>"A.A. Adams," he read from the tag, "a +queer name, and no one answering to it here in +Pleasantville. I wonder why Baker was so excited +when he heard that name? I wonder why +Lem Wacker bid it up? Is he aware of the +mystery surrounding Baker? Has this package +got something to do with it? Wacker looked as +though he had struck a prosperous streak, and +bragged recklessly about the lot of money he +could get. I must find Baker. He was in no +condition, mentally or physically, to wander about +at random."</p> + +<p>The package in question, Bart decided, held +papers. It had been given him in trust, and he +could not open it without Baker's permission. +He replaced it in his pocket and went +forth.</p> + +<p>Bart visited all of Baker's old familiar haunts +in the freight yards, but found no trace of him. +Then he called at the Sharp Corner. Its proprietor +claimed that Lem Wacker had not been +there since noon.</p> + +<p>Bart spoke to two of the yards night watchmen. +He described Baker, and requested them +to speak to him if they ran across him, and to +tell him that Bart Stirling was very anxious +to see him up at his house.</p> + +<p>Affairs at the little express office had settled +down to routine when, one morning, Darry Haven +dropped into the place.</p> + +<p>He found Bart engrossed in reading a letter +very carefully. Its envelope lay on the desk. +Glancing at it casually, Darry saw that it was from +express headquarters.</p> + +<p>"Anything wrong?" he inquired, as Bart +folded up the letter and placed it in his +pocket.</p> + +<p>"Not with me, anyway," replied Bart with a +smile. "There is something wrong at Cardysville, +a hundred miles or so down the main line," +he went on.</p> + +<p>"And how does that interest you, Bart?"</p> + +<p>"Why, it seems I have got to go down there +on some business for the Company."</p> + +<p>"To-day?"</p> + +<p>"The sooner the better, that letter says. It +is from the inspector. It is quite flattering to +me, for he starts out with complimenting the +excellent business system this office has always +sustained."</p> + +<p>"H'm!" chuckled Darry—"any mention of +your valued extra help?"</p> + +<p>"No, but that may come along, for you have +got to represent me here again to-day, and possibly +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Is that so?" said Darry. "Well, I guess I +can arrange."</p> + +<p>"You see," explained Bart, "the letter is a sort +of confidential one. Reading between the lines, +I assume that a certain Peter Pope, now express +agent at Cardysville, and evidently recently appointed, +is a relative of one of the officials of the +company. Anyway, he has been running—or +not running—things for a week. The inspector +writes that the man has very little to do, for it is +a small station, but that very little he appears to +do very badly."</p> + +<p>"How, Bart?"</p> + +<p>"His reports and returns are all mixed up. +He doesn't have the least idea of how to run +things intelligently. The inspector asks me to go +and see him, take some of our blanks, open a set +of books for him, and try and install a system that +will bring things around clearer."</p> + +<p>"Why, Bart," exclaimed Darry, "they have +promoted you!"</p> + +<p>"I don't see it, Darry."</p> + +<p>"That's traveling auditor's work. Besides, a +delicate and confidential mission for an official. +Wake up! you've struck a higher rung on the +ladder, and I'll wager they'll boost you fast."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Darry, I happen to be handy and +accommodating, and they don't want to turn the +fellow down on account of his 'pull.' Maybe they +think the offer and suggestions of a boy will have +a result where a regular official visit would offend +Mr. Peter Pope's backer—see?"</p> + +<p>All the same, Bart felt very much pleased over +this unexpected communication. He blessed his +lucky stars that he had such a bright and dependable +substitute at hand as Darry Haven.</p> + +<p>The latter soon made his school and home arrangements, +and Bart left affairs in his hands +about ten o'clock, catching the train west after +getting a pass for the Cardysville round trip.</p> + +<p>It was two o'clock when the train arrived at +Bart's destination. He found Cardysville to be +a place of about 2,000 inhabitants. Most of the +town, however, lay half-a-mile away from the +B. < M. Railroad, another line cutting in farther +north.</p> + +<p>Bart noticed crowds of people and a circus tent +in the distance. The express shed was a gloomy +little den of a place on a spur track. Near the +depot was a small lunch counter. Bart got something +to eat, and strolled down the tracks.</p> + +<p>As he drew near to the express shed, Bart noticed +an old armchair out on its platform.</p> + +<p>A very stout man in his shirt sleeves sat in this, +smoking a pipe.</p> + +<p>He got up and waddled around restlessly. +Bart noticed that he approached the door of the +express office on tiptoe. He acted scared, for, +bending his ear to listen, he retreated precipitately. +Then he stood stock-still, staring stupidly at the +building.</p> + +<p>He gave a nervous start as Bart came up behind +him—quite a jump, in fact. Bart, studying +his flabby, uneasy face, wondered what was the +matter with the man.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" jerked out the Cardysville express +agent. "Sort of startled me."</p> + +<p>"Are you Mr. Pope?" inquired Bart.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's me," assented the other. "Stranger +here? looking for me?"</p> + +<p>"I am," answered Bart. "My name is Stirling. +I work at the express office at Pleasantville."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I've heard of you," said Peter Pope. +"The express inspector wrote me about you. +He said you was a young kid, sort of green in +the business, who might drop in on me to get +some points on the business."</p> + +<p>"Quite so," nodded Bart with a side smile, +"catching on," as the phrase goes, and at once +falling in with the way the inspector was working +matters. "We can't learn too much about the +express business, you know, and I thought that +by comparing notes with you we might dig out +something of mutual benefit."</p> + +<p>"You bet!" responded Pope, perking up quite +grandly. "The Vice-President of the express +company is my cousin. I've got a big pull. +Soon as I get the ropes learned, I'm going for a +manager's job in the city."</p> + +<p>"That will be quite fine," said Bart. "I +brought some books and blanks with me, and, if +you can spare the time, I would like to have you +see how our system strikes you."</p> + +<p>"Sure. Come in—no, that is, I'll bring out a +chair. I keep only one record. I've got this +business simplified down to a lead pencil and a +scratch book, see?"</p> + +<p>Bart did "see," and knew that the express inspector +had "seen," also. He wondered why +Pope did not take him into the office. He marveled +still more as, watching Pope, he noticed +he hesitated at the door of the express shed. +Then Pope moved forward as if actually unwilling +to enter the place.</p> + +<p>Half a minute after he had disappeared within +the shed, Pope came rushing out, pale and +flustered. He tumbled over the chair he was +bringing to Bart, and a book he carried went +flying from under his arm into the dirt of the +road beyond the platform.</p> + +<p>"Why," exclaimed Bart, in some surprise, +"what is the matter, Mr. Pope?"</p> + +<p>"Matter!" gasped Pope, his eyes rolling, as +he backed away from the doorway, "say, that +place is haunted!"</p> + +<p>"What place?"</p> + +<p>"The express room. I've been worried for an +hour. It's nigh tuckered me out."</p> + +<p>"What has?" inquired Bart</p> + +<p>"Groans, hisses, rustlings. I thought a while +back that someone was hiding in among the +express stuff, and trying to scare me. 'Taint so, +though. I went among it, and there's no place +for anybody to hide."</p> + +<p>"Oh, pshaw!" said Bart reassuringly, "you +are only nervous, Mr. Pope. It's some live +freight, likely. Can I take a look?"</p> + +<p>"Sure—wish you would. I've been posting +up on express business, you see, maybe that's the +matter. Read about fellows hiding in boxes, and +jumping out and murdering the messenger. Read +about enemies sending a man exploding bombs, +and blowing him to pieces."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Mr. Pope!" said Bart, "you +don't look as if you had an enemy in the world."</p> + +<p>"I haven't," declared Peter Pope, "but every +business man has his rivals, of course. I've heard +that those city chaps have an eye on any fellow +that makes a record like I'm making here. They +don't want to see him get ahead. They must +guess that I'm in line for a big promotion, and +that might worry them into playing some tragical +trick on me."</p> + +<p>Bart wanted to laugh outright. He kept a +straight face, and solemnly started to investigate +the trouble. He stepped into the express room +and took a keen look around, Pope timorously +following him.</p> + +<p>"There!" panted Pope suddenly, "what did +I tell you?"</p> + +<p>"That's so," said Bart. "It is sort of mysterious. +Someone groaned, sure. What have +you here, anyway?"</p> + +<p>Bart went over to a heap of express matter, +come in just that morning. There were several +small crates, a box or two, and a very large trunk. +Bart centered his attention on this latter. He +stooped down as his quick eye observed a row of +holes at one end, just under the hauling strap.</p> + +<p>"Quiet, for a minute," he whispered warningly +to Pope, who, big-eyed and trembling, resembled +a man on the threshold of some most appalling +discovery.</p> + +<p>Bart's strained hearing shortly caught a rustling +sound. It was followed by a kind of choking +moan. Unmistakably, he decided, both came +from the trunk.</p> + +<p>"Is it locked? No," he said, examining the +front of the trunk. Then Bart snapped back its +two catches. He seized the cover and threw it +back.</p> + +<p>"Gracious!" gasped Peter Pope.</p> + +<p>Bart himself was a trifle startled.</p> + +<p>As the trunk cover lifted, a man stepped out.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + +<h3>ON THE MIDNIGHT EXPRESS</h3> + + +<p>"Air—and water!" panted the mysterious +occupant of the trunk.</p> + +<p>Bart looked him over in some wonder. He +was a short, wiry man, and arrayed in a close-fitting +costume resembling that of the circus athlete on +duty.</p> + +<p>The man was drenched with perspiration and +so nearly exhausted with his suffocating imprisonment, +that his voice was rasping and hollow.</p> + +<p>He was weak, too. As he stepped over the +side of the trunk he staggered feebly. Then, +making out an open window and a pail of drinking +water on a bench near it, he made a swift dive +in that direction.</p> + +<p>First the man stuck his head out of the +window and drew in great draughts of pure, +fresh air.</p> + +<p>Then he seized the tin cup near the pail. He +dipped up the water and drank cupful after cupful +until Bart eyed him in some alarm.</p> + +<p>"Ah—h!" breathed the man in a long aspiration +of relief and enjoyment, "that's better. Say, +ten minutes more and there would have been no +Professor Rigoletto."</p> + +<p>As he spoke he went back to the trunk. He +took out a long gossamer rain coat that had been +used as a pillow. This he proceeded to put on.</p> + +<p>It came to his feet. He buttoned it up, drew +a jaunty crush cap from one of its pockets, and +grinned pleasantly into the face of the petrified +Peter Pope.</p> + +<p>"See here!" blurted out the Cardysville express +agent, "this isn't—isn't regular. It isn't schedule, +you know."</p> + +<p>"I hope not—sincerely," airily retorted the +stranger. "Fifty miles on a slow train, three +hours waiting in a close trunk. Ah, no. But +I've arrived. Ha, ha, that's so!"</p> + +<p>He glanced into the trunk. Its bottom seemed +covered with some coarse burlap. Professor +Rigoletto threw shut the cover.</p> + +<p>"Aha!" he said suddenly, bending his ear as +a strain of distant circus music floated on the air. +"Show on, I'll be late. I'll call later—"</p> + +<p>"No, you don't!" interrupted Pope, recovering +from his fright, and placing his bulky form in +the doorway.</p> + +<p>"Don't what, my friend?" mildly asked the +Professor.</p> + +<p>"Deadhead—beat the express company. +You're one trunk—and excess weight."</p> + +<p>"I don't dispute it. What, then?"</p> + +<p>"Pay," promptly and definitely announced the +agent.</p> + +<p>"Can't. Haven't a cent. That's why I had +to get a friend to ship me this way. But he said +he'd wire ahead to my partner with the circus, +who would call for me here. I'll go and find +him, and settle the bill."</p> + +<p>"You don't leave here until those charges are +paid. You want to be rapid, too," declared Pope, +"or I'll see if the railroad company don't want to +collect fare, as well."</p> + +<p>"Want to keep me here, eh?" murmured +the Professor thoughtfully. "Well, I'm agreeable, +only you'll have to feed and bed me. If +I'm live stock, I demand live-stock privileges, +see?"</p> + +<p>The express agent looked worried.</p> + +<p>"What am I to do?" he asked, in a quandary, +of Bart.</p> + +<p>"Oh," smiled Bart, "I guess you had better +trust him to find his friend and come back with +the money."</p> + +<p>"I'll hold the trunk, anyway," observed Pope. +"What have you got in it? Some old worthless +togs, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Mistake—about a thousand dollars in value," +coolly retorted the Professor.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you have! I thought so. Some old +burlap."</p> + +<p>"Careful, my friend!" spoke the deadhead +sharply. "There's nothing there that you will +care to see."</p> + +<p>"Isn't there? I'll investigate, just the same," +declared Pope, throwing back the trunk cover +and delving in the heap of burlap. "Murder! +Help!"</p> + +<p>Peter Pope uttered a fearful yell. He backed +from the trunk suddenly, A sinuous, hissing +form had risen up before his face.</p> + +<p>This was an enormous cobra, and, under the +circumstances, very frightful to see. The Cardysville +express agent made a headlong bolt for the +door. He slid clear outside across the platform, +and landed in the mud of the road.</p> + +<p>"Prt! prt! Caesar, so—so!" spoke Professor +Rigoletto in a peculiar, purring tone, approaching +the serpent.</p> + +<p>He coaxed and forced the big snake back into +its warm coverings, and shut down the trunk +cover and clasped it. Bart, highly edified at the +unique incident, followed him outside.</p> + +<p>"I'm the Cingalese snake-charmer," explained +Professor Rigoletto. "Sorry, my friend," he +observed to the wry-faced Pope, who was busy +scraping the mud from his clothing, "but I told +you so."</p> + +<p>"Ugh!" shuddered the agent. "You get that +trunk out of here double-quick, or I'll have you +arrested."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I will," answered the Professor with +alacrity, "and I promise you that I will bring or +send you the express charges by the time the +show is over."</p> + +<p>Professor Rigoletto dragged the trunk to the +platform. It was not a heavy burden, now. +Bart good-humoredly assisted him in getting +it balanced properly on his shoulder. The professor +courteously thanked him and asked him to +come and see the show free, and marched off +quite contented with the result of his daring deadhead +experiment.</p> + +<p>The Cardysville express agent was greatly +worked up over the incident of the hour. It was +some time before he could get his mind sufficiently +calmed down to discuss business affairs +coherently.</p> + +<p>Bart, however, handled the man in a pleasant, +politic manner, and soon had results working.</p> + +<p>He let Peter Pope imagine that he was the +originator of every idea that he, Bart himself, +suggested. He very deftly introduced the system +in vogue at the Pleasantville express office.</p> + +<p>In fact, at the end of two hours Bart had accomplished +all he had been sent to do. He had +got Pope's records into sensible shape, had opened +a small set of books for him, and knew that the +inspector must be pleased with the results.</p> + +<p>Bart had missed the early afternoon train. +There was no other running to Pleasantville direct +until eleven o'clock that night.</p> + +<p>He had planned to put in the time strolling +about town, when Professor Rigoletto appeared. +He was accompanied by a friend.</p> + +<p>The latter ascertained the express charges on +the trunk, paid them, and handed both Bart and +Pope a free ticket to the evening's entertainment.</p> + +<p>Bart took a stroll by himself, got his supper at +a neat little restaurant, and met Pope as agreed at +the door of the main show tent at seven o'clock.</p> + +<p>They were given good seats, and they had the +pleasure of seeing Professor Rigoletto and his big +snake under more agreeable conditions than those +of their first introduction to them.</p> + +<p>The show was a very good one, and at half-past +ten they left the tent. The Cardysville express +agent accompanied Bart to the depot, where the +east bound train was due to arrive in thirty minutes.</p> + +<p>As they walked up and down the platform, a +horse and wagon drove up to the little express +shed. Pope went over to it. Bart accompanied +him.</p> + +<p>The driver of the wagon was a brisk, smart-looking +farmery individual. Pope knew him, and +nodded to him in a friendly fashion.</p> + +<p>"Come after something?" inquired the agent +"I don't recall that there is anything here for +you."</p> + +<p>"No, I want to express these hives," answered +the farmer.</p> + +<p>He indicated six boxes lying in his wagon, covered +with gauze.</p> + +<p>"Bother!" said Pope, a little crossly. "That's +no midnight job. Why don't you come in the +daytime, Mr. Simms? You just caught me here +by chance, at this outlandish hour."</p> + +<p>"Particular shipment," explained Simms, "and +I've got to catch the trains just right. You see, +these are special imported Italian bees, Breeders. +I reckon every one of those beauties is worth +half-a-dollar. They're very delicate in this climate, +and call for great care. I want you to instruct +the messenger to follow the directions +carded on the boxes."</p> + +<p>"I can do that," said Pope. "What he will +do, is another thing."</p> + +<p>"You see," continued the farmer, "if they handle +them carefully at Pleasantville, and see that +they catch the early express to the city from there, +someone will be waiting to take them in charge +at the terminus. I'd be awful glad to tip the +messenger handsomely to have someone at Pleasantville, +where they transfer the hives, open the +ventilators for a spell and tip down into the pans +some of the honey syrup."</p> + +<p>"I will do that for you, sir," spoke up Bart—"I +am in charge of the express office at Pleasantville. +I am going on this train, and I will be +glad to see that your goods are attended to just +right, and transferred on time."</p> + +<p>"Say, will you?" exclaimed the farmer in a +pleased tone. "Now, that's just the ticket! +The wrong draught on those bees, or too much +bad air, or too little feed, and they die off in dozens. +You see, at fifty cents apiece, that means +quite a loss on an unlucky shipment."</p> + +<p>"It does, indeed, Mr. Simms," responded Bart +"I am very much interested in the little workers, +and you can rest easy as to their being rightly +cared for. I believe I will ride to Pleasantville in +the express car, so your bees will be right under +my eye till they are put on the city express."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, thank you," said the farmer +heartily.</p> + +<p>As the train whistled in the distance, he came +up to Bart and slipped a bank note in his hand.</p> + +<p>Bart demurred, but it was no use. He found +himself two dollars richer for his accommodating +proposition.</p> + +<p>As the train drew up, Peter Pope rapped at the +door of the express car. A sleepy-eyed messenger +opened it. The hives were shoved in. Bart +made a brief explanation to the messenger, showing +his pass. He waved a pleasant adieu to Pope +and the farmer as the express car door was closed +and locked.</p> + +<p>When Bart got home he was more than tired +out. But he had done well and in the end got +full praise for his work.</p> + +<p>A day passed, and Bart failed to find Baker. +He hunted everywhere and kept up the search +until he knew not where to look further.</p> + +<p>Bart went home. He had scarcely reached +his bedroom when there was a vigorous summons +at the front door.</p> + +<p>"I hope it is Baker," murmured Bart, as he +slipped on the coat he had just taken off.</p> + +<p>"A telegram, Bart," said his mother, at the +bottom of the stairs.</p> + +<p>She had receipted for it. Bart tore it open +wonderingly, glancing first at the signature, and +marveling at its unusual length. It was signed by +Robert Leslie, superintendent of the express +company, at the city end of the line.</p> + +<p>This is what it said:</p> + +<p>"Special II. 256 by afternoon express, for +Martin & Company, Pleasantville, contains fifteen +thousand dollars in cash, sender Dunn & +Son, Importers. They ask me to make a special +delivery, and will defray any extra cost for having +it accepted personally by A.B. Martin, and receipted +for by him in the presence of witnesses. +Delivery to be legal, must be made before twelve, +midnight, and this certified to. This is a very +important matter for one of the company's largest +customers. Be sure to make delivery on time."</p> + +<p>Bart read the telegram over twice, taking in its +important details, with a serious face.</p> + +<p>"Fifteen thousand dollars!" he repeated. +"It has saved me some worry that I did not discover +the amount before. As to the delivery, +that is easy. I've got over two hours yet. I +see what it is. Martin & Company probably +want to throw up a contract because prices have +gone up, the contract must be made binding by +payment of fifteen thousand dollars by midnight, +or Dunn & Son lose. All right."</p> + +<p>His mother noticed that some important business +was on her son's mind, and only told Bart +to take care of himself.</p> + +<p>Bart hurried towards the express office. At +a street crossing he paused, to let pass a close +carriage that was driven along at a furious rate of +speed in the direction from which he had just +come.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" he forcibly ejaculated, as it flashed +by him, the corner street lamp irradiating its interior +brightly—"there's queer company for +you!"</p> + +<p>The remark was warranted. The occupants of +the vehicle were Colonel Jeptha Harrington and +Lem Wacker.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<h3>LATE VISITORS</h3> + + +<p>The little express office was dark and lonely-looking +when Bart again reached it.</p> + +<p>Bart unlocked the office door, shot the +inside bolt carefully after him, lighted the lantern, +placed it on the desk, and opened the +safe.</p> + +<p>As he selected the big brown envelope marked +"Martin & Company," and bearing the express +company's shining green seals, his fingers tingled. +The immensity of the sum intrusted to his charge +perturbed him a trifle.</p> + +<p>Bart relocked the safe, stowed the envelope in +an inner pocket, and opened the drawer of a little +stand leaning against the safe.</p> + +<p>He took out a revolver. Mr. Leslie himself +had advised him to always have one handy in the +express office. Bart had never touched the weapon +before. It had been loaned him by Mr. Haven, +and Darry had brought it to the office. Bart +slipped it now into a side pocket.</p> + +<p>He noticed in detail the entry on the messenger's +slip. The prepaid charges on the Martin +& Company consignment were seven dollars and +seventy-five cents, or five cents for every hundred +dollars or fraction of it over the first fifty dollars, +which was charged for at regular tariff rates, +twenty-five cents.</p> + +<p>"It is fifteen thousand dollars, right enough!" +mused Bart. "Now, to make sure of the form +of receipt."</p> + +<p>He filled out a special receipt that acknowledged +besides the usual delivery, a verification of the +amount of the inclosure, its acceptance as correct, +and left a blank for the names of two witnesses.</p> + +<p>Bart was now ready to sally forth on his peculiar +errand, and had fully decided in his mind the +persons he would get to act as his witnesses.</p> + +<p>"What is that!" he questioned, suddenly and +sharply.</p> + +<p>He could hear a springy vehicle bound over +the near tracks, and then its wheels cut the loose +cindered road leading up to the express office.</p> + +<p>It halted. He could catch the quick, labored +breathing of two horses, a carriage door creaked! +some low voices made a brief hum of conversation, +and the vehicle seemed to depart.</p> + +<p>Bart stood stock-still, wondering and guessing. +Footsteps sounded on the platform. There came +a thundering thump as of a heavy cane on the +office door.</p> + +<p>"Who is there?" demanded Bart.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Harrington. I've got to see you."</p> + +<p>"Come in," Bart said, unbolting the door.</p> + +<p>Colonel Harrington was red of face and fussy +of manner. He threw the door shut with his foot, +and sank to a bench, breathing heavily.</p> + +<p>"Was there something you wanted to say to +me, Colonel Harrington?" inquired Bart.</p> + +<p>"Yes there was!" snapped out the rich man of +Pleasantville. "Anxious to see you! Just drove +up to your house. They told me you were here. +I once offered you a hundred dollars."</p> + +<p>Bart nodded, with a faint smile.</p> + +<p>"It wasn't enough," stumbled on the colonel. +"I am now going to make it a thousand."</p> + +<p>"Why, what for, Colonel Harrington?" demanded +Bart in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Because you can earn it."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"Shall I be blunt and plain?"</p> + +<p>"It is always the best way."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," resumed the colonel desperately. +"A certain unclaimed express package +was sold here to-day, marked A.A. Adams. +You've got it."</p> + +<p>"How do you know that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know it and I want it. Hand it +over, and here"—the colonel made a dive for his +pocketbook—"here's your thousand dollars."</p> + +<p>Bart made a signal of remonstrance with his +hand, his face grave and decided.</p> + +<p>"Stop right there, Colonel Harrington," he said +forcibly. "Are you aware that you are offering a +bribe to a bonded representative of the express +company?"</p> + +<p>"Rot take your express company!" growled +the colonel angrily. "I am one of its stock-holders. +I could buy the whole concern out, +if I wanted to!"</p> + +<p>"Until you do, I obey official instructions," +announced Bart. "Please do not degrade yourself +and embarrass me, Colonel Harrington, by +saying anything further on this score. I will not +sell my honor, nor swerve a hair's breadth from +a line of duty plain and clear. The package you +refer to was legally purchased by the highest bidder, +I hold it temporarily in trust for him. It is +as safe and sacred with me as if it was the property +of the First National Bank of Pleasantville."</p> + +<p>Colonel Harrington squirmed, got red and pale +by turns, gripped his cane fiercely, and then, relaxed +with a groan.</p> + +<p>"It's my property!" he declared. "I can +prove it's my property."</p> + +<p>"Then I suggest that you persuade the person +who bought it of that fact," said Bart.</p> + +<p>"Say!" shot out the colonel eagerly, his eye +brightening, "if I bring an order from that same +person, will you give up the package?"</p> + +<p>Bart hesitated.</p> + +<p>"You know where he is, then?" he inquired +suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"I—I might find him," stammered the military +man.</p> + +<p>"I do not think I would," said Bart. "Bring +him here personally, and I will hand it over to +him—in your presence, if he says so."</p> + +<p>The colonel groaned again. It was plainly +to be seen that he was in an intense inward +frenzy.</p> + +<p>"Stirling, you've got to give me that package!" +he cried, springing to his feet and lifting his cane +threateningly.</p> + +<p>"Have I?" said Bart, facing him watchingly.</p> + +<p>"Be careful, Colonel Harrington! you are pretty +near committing a criminal offense."</p> + +<p>"You're in the plot—you know all about it! +Give up that package, or—or—"</p> + +<p>"Colonel Harrington," said Bart calmly, but +every word ringing out as clear as the tone of a +bell, "I am no ruffian, and I hate violence, but if +you lift that cane to me again—I'll shoot."</p> + +<p>Bart showed the gleaming top of the weapon +in his pocket, backing to the door.</p> + +<p>Just then the door behind him was forcibly +thrust open, its edge hitting him violently. Then +someone pounced upon him.</p> + +<p>The attack was sudden and effective. A piece +of rope was looped deftly about Bart's arms, holding +him helpless, secured behind, and as he was +pushed roughly against the desk. Lem Wacker's +evil face leered down upon him.</p> + +<p>"Don't you holler!" ordered Lem.</p> + +<p>As he spoke, he leaned over the railing. The +waste box held a mass of cotton that had packed +some of the parcels disposed of at the sale that +afternoon. Lem grabbed up a handful, and forcibly +stuffed it into Bart's mouth.</p> + +<p>"Wacker! Wacker!" gasped Colonel Harrington +in affright, "don't—don't hurt him. This is +dreadful—"</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" ordered Lem Wacker recklessly, +"you want something and don't know how to get +it. I do—and will."</p> + +<p>He snatched at Bart's tightly-buttoned coat +and tore it loose, groped inside and drew out a +package.</p> + +<p>"I've got it," he announced. "No!—he +ripped off the end of the parcel—here's a haul."</p> + +<p>Bart writhed, choked on the loose strangling +filaments of cotton, but could not utter a word.</p> + +<p>"Give me that package!" cried the colonel. +"Stop! where are you going?"</p> + +<p>Lem Wacker had bolted. The colonel stared +in marveling astonishment as his cohort sprang +through the open doorway. Bart had managed +to wad the cotton in his mouth into a compact +wet mass, enabling him to speak.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Harrington!" he cried, "that man has +not got the package you were after. He has instead +stolen a money envelope for Martin & Company +containing fifteen thousand dollars in currency, +and is making off with it. Cut this rope +instantly that I may pursue him, or I give you +my word that, as a partner in his crime, rich as +you are, and influential as you are, you shall go +to the State penitentiary."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<h3>THIRTY SECONDS OF TWELVE</h3> + + +<p>It was an exciting moment. Bart was intently +worked up, but he kept his head level. Everything +hung on the action of the next two minutes.</p> + +<p>Whatever price the rich Colonel Harrington +was paying Lem Wacker for his coöperation, it +was not enough to blind that individual to a realization +of the fact that accident had placed in +Wacker's grasp the great haul of his life, and he +was making off with this fortune, leaving the colonel +in the lurch.</p> + +<p>The latter stood shaking like an aspen, his +face the color of chalk. Apparently he took +in and believed every word that Bart had spoken.</p> + +<p>"I'm in a fix—a terrible fix!" he groaned. +"This is dreadful—dreadful!"</p> + +<p>"Mend it, then!" cried Bart. "Quick! if you +have one spark of sense or manhood in you. +There's a knife—cut this rope."</p> + +<p>With quivering fingers Colonel Harrington +took up from the desk the office knife used +for cutting string. It was keen-bladed as a razor. +Unsteady and bungling as was his stroke, he +severed the rope partly, and Bart burst his bonds +free.</p> + +<p>"Stay here," called out the young express +agent sharply. "I hold you responsible for this +office till I return!"</p> + +<p>He dashed outside like a rocket, scanned the +whole roadway expanse, and darted for the freight +yards with the speed of the wind.</p> + +<p>The electric arc lights were sparsely scattered, +but there was sufficient illumination for him to +make out a fugitive figure just crossing the +broad roadway towards the freight tracks.</p> + +<p>It was Lem Wacker. A train of empty box +freights blocked his way. He stooped, made a +diving scurry under one of them, and was lost to +view.</p> + +<p>Bart ran as he had never run before. The +train cleared the tracks as he reached the spot +where Wacker had disappeared.</p> + +<p>At that moment above the jangling, clumping +activity of the yards there arose on the night air +one frightful, piercing shriek.</p> + +<p>Bart halted with a nameless shock, for the utterance +was distinctly human and curdling. He +glanced after the receding train, fancying that +Wacker might have got caught under the cars +and was being dragged along with them.</p> + +<p>That roadbed was clear, however. Two hundred +feet to the right was a second train. Its +forward section was moving off, having just thrown +some cars against others stationary on a siding.</p> + +<p>Bart ran towards these. Wacker could not +have so suddenly disappeared in any other direction. +He crossed between bumpers, and glanced +eagerly all around. There was no hiding-place +nearer than the repair shops, and they were five +hundred feet distant.</p> + +<p>Wacker could not possibly have reached their +precincts in the limited space of time afforded +since Bart had last lost sight of him.</p> + +<p>"He is hiding in some of those cars," decided +Bart, "or he has swung onto the bumpers of the +section pulling out—hark!"</p> + +<p>Bart pricked up his ears. A strange sound +floated on the air—a low, even, musical tinkle.</p> + +<p>Its source could not be far distant. Bart ran +along the side of the stationary freights.</p> + +<p>"It is Wacker, sure," he breathed, "for that +is the same sound made by the little alarm clock he +bought at the sale this afternoon."</p> + +<p>The last vibrating tintinnabulations of the clock +died away as Bart discovered his enemy.</p> + +<p>Lem Wacker's burly figure and white face +were discernible against the direct flare of an arc +light. He seemed a part of the bumpers of two +cars. Bart flared a match once, and uttered the +single word:</p> + +<p>"Caught."</p> + +<p>Lem Wacker was clinging to the upright brake +rod, and swaying there. His face was bloodless +and he was writhing with pain. One foot +was clamped tight, a crushed, jellied mass between +two bumpers.</p> + +<p>It seemed that his foot must have slipped just +as the forward freights were switched down. This +had caused that frenzied yell. Perhaps the +thought of the money had impelled him not +to repeat it, but the little alarm clock which he +carried in his pocket had betrayed him.</p> + +<p>Bart took in the situation at a glance. He was +shocked and unnerved, but he stepped close +to the writhing culprit.</p> + +<p>"Lem Wacker," he said, "where is that money +envelope?"</p> + +<p>"In my pocket," groaned Wacker. "I've +got it this time—crippled for life!"</p> + +<p>The young express agent did not have to +search for the stolen money package. It protruded +from Wacker's side pocket. As he +glanced it over, he saw that it was practically intact. +Wacker had torn open only one corner, +sufficient to observe its contents. Bart placed +the envelope in his own pocket.</p> + +<p>"I'm fainting!" declared Wacker.</p> + +<p>Bart crossed under the bumpers to the other +side of the freights. He swept the scene with a +searching glance, finally detected the shifting +glow of a night watchman's lantern, and ran over +to its source.</p> + +<p>He knew the watchman, and asked the man +to accompany him, explaining as they went along +that Lem Wacker had got caught between two +freights, was held a prisoner in the bumpers with +his foot crushed, and pointed the sufferer out as +they neared the freights.</p> + +<p>Wacker by this time had sunk flat on the +bumpers, his limbs twisted up under him, but he +managed to hold on to the brake rod. He only +moaned and writhed when the horrified watchman +spoke to him.</p> + +<p>"I'll have to get help," said the latter. "They +will have to switch off the front freights to get +him loose."</p> + +<p>The watchman took out his whistle and blew +a kind of a call on the telegraphic system. Two +minutes later Bart saw McCarthy hurriedly rounding +a corner of the freight depot, and advanced +towards him.</p> + +<p>The young express agent briefly and confidentially +imparted to his old friend the fact that Lem +Wacker had tried to steal some money from the +express office, and had got his deserts at last.</p> + +<p>"Get him clear of the bumpers," said Bart, +"carry him to the express office, call for a surgeon, +and don't let him be taken away from +there till I show up."</p> + +<p>"What's moving, Stirling?" inquired McCarthy.</p> + +<p>"Something very important. Wacker seems to +be punished enough already, and I do not know +that I want him placed under arrest, but he knows +something he must tell me before he gets out of +my reach."</p> + +<p>"Then you had better wait."</p> + +<p>"I can't do that," said Bart. "I have a special +to deliver, on personal orders from Mr. Leslie, +the express superintendent."</p> + +<p>Bart consulted his watch. It was five minutes +of eleven.</p> + +<p>"Only a little over an hour," he reflected. +"I want to hustle!"</p> + +<p>He saw to it that the recovered package was +safely stowed in an inner pocket, and started by +the shortest cut he knew from the yards.</p> + +<p>Bart did not even pause at the express office, +where he had left Colonel Harrington. He ran +all the way half across the silent, sleeping town, +and never halted until he reached the Haven homestead.</p> + +<p>He did not go to the front door, but, well acquainted +with the disposition of the household, +paused under a rear window, picked up a handful +of gravel, threw it against the upper panes, and +gave three low but distinct whistling trills.</p> + +<p>He could hear a prompt rustling. In less than +forty seconds Darry Haven stuck his head out of +the window.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" he hailed, rubbing his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Come down, quick," directed Bart. "Bring +Bob, too."</p> + +<p>"What's the lark, Bart?"</p> + +<p>"No lark at all," answered Bart—"strictly business. +Don't take a minute. No need disturbing +the folks. You can be back inside of an +hour."</p> + +<p>Bob, hatless and without a collar, came sliding +down the lightning rod two minutes later. Darry +landed on the ground almost simultaneously, +simply letting himself drop from the window +sill.</p> + +<p>"Two dollars apiece for half an hour's work," +said Bart, and then told his companions the details +of the special mission in which he required their +services.</p> + +<p>"Ginger! but you're nerve and action," commented +the admiring Bob.</p> + +<p>"And good to your friends," put in Darry.</p> + +<p>They passed the pickle factory. It stood on +the edge of the town, and the residence of the +senior partner of Martin & Company, whose name +had been mentioned in the telegram, was nearly +half a mile further away.</p> + +<p>"Eleven thirty-five," announced Bart, a trifle +anxiously. "It does not give us much time. I +hope there's no slip anywhere."</p> + +<p>At just fifteen minutes of midnight the strange +trio passed up the graveled walk leading to the +Martin mansion. The front door had a ponderous +old-fashioned knocker, and Bart plied it without +ceremony.</p> + +<p>He began to grow nervous as three minutes +passed by, and not the least attention was paid to +his summons.</p> + +<p>Suddenly an upper window was thrust up, and +a man's head came into view.</p> + +<p>"Who's there?" demanded a gruff, impatient +voice.</p> + +<p>"Is this Mr. Martin, Mr. A.B. Martin?" +inquired Bart.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is—what do you want?"</p> + +<p>"I have an express package for you," explained +Bart.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you have?" snapped Mr. Martin. +"What the mischief do you mean waking a man +up at midnight on a thing like that! Deliver it +at the factory in the morning."</p> + +<p>The speaker, muttering direfully under his +breath, was about to slam down the window.</p> + +<p>"Wait one moment, Mr. Martin," called up +Bart sharply. "This is a special delivery, and a +very important matter. I tender you this package +in the presence of these witnesses, and it is a +legal delivery. If you decline to come down and +take it, and I leave it on your doorstep at the call +of the first tramp who happens to come along, I +have done my duty, and the loss is yours—a matter +of fifteen thousand dollars."</p> + +<p>"What! what!" shouted Martin.</p> + +<p>"That is the amount."</p> + +<p>"From—Dunn & Son?"</p> + +<p>"I guess that's right," said Bart. "Will you +come down and take it?"</p> + +<p>Martin did not reply. He disappeared from +the window, but left it open. Bart heard him +muttering to himself.</p> + +<p>"Supposing he doesn't come down?" questioned +Bob, in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"I think he will," said Bart. "Eleven forty-eight. +Mr. Martin," he called out loudly, "I +can't wait here all night."</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" retorted an angry voice—"I'm +hurrying all I can."</p> + +<p>"He isn't!" spoke Darry, in a low tone to +Bart. "He's on to the business, and playing +for time."</p> + +<p>"And he's beat us!" breathed Bob—"hear +there! twelve o'clock. Your delivery is no good, +Bart! It's just struck a new day!"</p> + +<p>"S—sh!" warned Bart, as a clock inside the +house rang out twelve silvery strokes. "The +clock is wrong. We've got five minutes and a +half yet."</p> + +<p>In about two minutes a light flashed in the hall, +the front door was unlocked, and Martin appeared, +half-dressed. Bart relievedly put up his watch. +It was just three minutes of twelve.</p> + +<p>He instantly placed the express envelope in +Martin's hands, slipping into the vestibule.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Martin," he said, "it is necessary for +you to verify the contents of this package. An +accident happened to it, as you see."</p> + +<p>Martin tore the envelope clear open, and +glanced over fifteen bills of one thousand dollar +denomination each.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said gruffly.</p> + +<p>"Will you sign this receipt?" asked Bart politely, +tendering the slip of paper he had prepared +at the office for this especial occasion. "Thank +you," he added, as the pickle man scrawled a penciled +signature at the bottom of the paper.</p> + +<p>"I take this money," said Mr. Martin, looking +up with a peculiar expression on his face, "because +it is delivered by you, but I shall return it to +Dunn & Son to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"That is your business, Mr. Martin," said Bart +politely.</p> + +<p>"It is, and—something more! I call on you +and your witnesses to notice that the fifteen +thousand dollars was not delivered to me until six +minutes after twelve, too late to make the tender +legal, which makes the contract null and +void."</p> + +<p>Mr. Martin, with a triumphant sweep of his +hand, pointed to a big clock at the end of the +long hall.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," said Bart, holding up +his watch, "but I keep official time, and it is exactly +thirty seconds to midnight. Listen!"</p> + +<p>And thirty seconds later, from the Pleasantville +court house tower, the town bell rang out +twelve musical strokes.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<h3>BROUGHT TO TIME</h3> + + +<p>"I'll go!" said Colonel Jeptha Harrington, +magnate of Pleasantville.</p> + +<p>"All right," said Bart Stirling, express company +agent.</p> + +<p>It was three o'clock in the morning, and the +scene was the little express office where so many +unusual and exciting happenings had transpired +within twenty-four hours.</p> + +<p>The colonel's announcement was given in the +tone of a man facing a hard proposition and forced +to accept it—or something worse.</p> + +<p>Bart's reply was calm and off-handed. During +a two hours' siege with the military man he had +never lost his temper or his wits, and had come +off the victor.</p> + +<p>When Bart had concluded his very creditable +piece of business with Mr. Martin of the pickle +factory, he had sent Darry and Bob Haven back +to bed, and had forthwith returned to the express +office.</p> + +<p>Colonel Harrington, scared-looking and sullen, +was still there. He seemed to have met his +match in the young express agent, and dared not +defy him.</p> + +<p>Bart found McCarthy, the night watchman, on +guard outside, who told him that they had got +Lem Wacker clear of the bumpers, had carried +him into the express office, made up a rude litter, +and had sent for a surgeon.</p> + +<p>The latter had just concluded his labors as Bart +entered. Lem Wacker lay with his foot bandaged +up, conscious, and in no intense pain, for the surgeon +had given him some deadening medicine.</p> + +<p>"He belongs at the hospital," the surgeon advised +Bart. "That foot will have to come off."</p> + +<p>"As bad as that!" murmured Bart.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I will telephone for the ambulance when +I leave here."</p> + +<p>"Very well," acquiesced Bart. "Can I speak +with the patient?"</p> + +<p>"If he will speak with you. He's an ugly, +ungrateful mortal!"</p> + +<p>Bart went over to the side of the prostrate man.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Wacker," he said, "I do not wish to +trouble you in your present condition, but something +has got to be understood before you leave +this place. You go to the hospital as a prisoner +or as a patient, just as you elect."</p> + +<p>"Pile it on! pile it on!" growled Wacker. +"You've got the upper hand, and you'll squeeze +me, I suppose. All the same, those who stand +back of me will take care of me or I'll explode +a bomb that will shatter Pleasantville to pieces!"</p> + +<p>Colonel Harrington shuddered at this palpable +allusion to himself.</p> + +<p>"And I'm going to sue the railroad company +for my smashed foot. What do you want?"</p> + +<p>"This, Mr. Wacker," pursued Bart quietly, +"you have to-night committed a crime that means +State's prison for ten years if I make the complaint."</p> + +<p>"I'll have a partner in it, all the same!" remarked +Wacker grimly.</p> + +<p>The colonel groaned.</p> + +<p>"You were after a package that belongs to a +friend of mine," continued Bart. "I want to +know why, and I want to know what you have +done with that person."</p> + +<p>"Don't you torture me!" cried Wacker irritably—"don't +you let him," he blared out to the +quacking magnate. "I won't say a word. Let +Harrington do as he pleases. He's the king bee! +Only, just this, Harrington, you take care of me +or I'll blow the whole business."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," stammered the colonel in a mean, +servile way, approaching the litter, "leave it all +to me, Wacker. Don't raise a row, Stirling," he +pleaded piteously, "don't have him arrested, I'll +foot the bill, I'll square everything. This matter +must be hushed—yes, yes, hushed up!" hoarsely +groaned the military man. "Oh, its dreadful, +dreadful!"</p> + +<p>Bart felt that he had matters in strong control, +spoke a word to McCarthy and, when the ambulance +came, allowed them to take Lem Wacker +to the hospital.</p> + +<p>Then he and Colonel Harrington were alone. +The latter was in a pitiable condition of fear and +humiliation.</p> + +<p>"See here, Stirling," he said finally, "I'll confess +the truth. I've done wrong. There's a paper +in that package that would mean disgrace for me if +it was made public. I'll own to that, but it's over +a dead and buried business, and it can do no good +to make it public property now. I warn you if it +is, I will shoot myself through the head."</p> + +<p>Bart doubted if the colonel had the courage to +carry out his threat, but he temporized with the +great man, got him to make enough admissions +to somewhat clear the situation, and the long discussion +ended with the announcement by Colonel +Harrington that he "would go."</p> + +<p>In other words, he confessed that Baker, Bart's +friend and the highest bidder for the mysterious +express package, was a prisoner in his barn.</p> + +<p>In some way Lem Wacker had become aware +of Baker's secret, whatever that was, and had +helped the colonel in his efforts to suppress Baker +and secure possession of the package.</p> + +<p>Bart was shocked at this exhibition of cold-blooded +villainy on the part of a representative +member of the community, although he had never +had much use for the pompous, domineering old +tyrant, who now led the way through the silent +Streets of Pleasantville as meek as a lamb.</p> + +<p>He took Bart through the beautiful grounds of +his sumptuous home, and to a windowless padlocked +room in the loft of the stable.</p> + +<p>Poor Baker, his hands secured with stout pieces +of wire, arose from a stool with a gleam of hope on +his pallid face as Bart followed the colonel into +the room.</p> + +<p>"See here, Baker—which isn't your name—but +it will do—" said the colonel at once, "things +have turned your way. Your friend here, young +Stirling, has got the whip-hand—I am cornered, +and admit it. I want to make a proposition +to you, Stirling needn't hear it. When you have +decided, we will call him into the room again and +he will see that you get your rights. Is that +satisfactory?"</p> + +<p>"What shall I do?" asked Baker of Bart.</p> + +<p>"Hear what Colonel Harrington has to say. +If it suits you, settle up this matter as you think +right. I am here to see that he does as he +promises."</p> + +<p>Bart stepped out of the room. There was a +continuous hum of conversation for nearly half an +hour. Then the colonel opened the door.</p> + +<p>"I'm to go into the house to write out something +Baker wants," he explained. "Then I'll +come back."</p> + +<p>"Very well," nodded Bart.</p> + +<p>He tried to engage Baker in conversation, but +the latter, his hands free now, paced the room +nervously, acting like some caged animal.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid of him!" he declared. "I don't +know that I am doing what is best. He's a bad +man. He begs me to spare him for the sake of +his family."</p> + +<p>"Is this a matter where settlement will do any +injustice to others?" asked Bart.</p> + +<p>"None, now—it is past that."</p> + +<p>"Then follow the dictates of your own judgment, +Mr. Baker," directed Bart, "being sure +that you are acting with a clear conscience."</p> + +<p>Colonel Harrington, when he returned, brought +two documents. Baker looked them over.</p> + +<p>"Are they satisfactory?" inquired the colonel +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Baker.</p> + +<p>"Now understand, there is to be no gossip +about this affair?" insisted the magnate.</p> + +<p>"I shan't talk," said Baker.</p> + +<p>"And I am to have that express package?"</p> + +<p>"Give it to him, Stirling."</p> + +<p>Bart took the mysterious unclaimed package +from his pocket. Colonel Harrington seized it +with a satisfied cry.</p> + +<p>"You have wronged myself and others deeply, +Colonel Harrington," said Baker in a grave, +reproachful tone, "but you have made some +amends. I forgive you, and I hope you will +be a better man."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + +<h3>"STILL HIGHER!"</h3> + + +<p>Bart Stirling was a proud and happy boy as +he stood at the door of the express office looking +down the tracks of the B. & M.</p> + +<p>A new spur was being constructed, and it +divided to semi-inclose a substantial foundation +which was the start of the new and commodious +express office. The blue sky, smiling down on +the busy scene, was no more serene than the +prospect which the future seemed to offer for +the successful young express agent.</p> + +<p>With his last reckless crime Lem Wacker had +ceased to be a disturbing element at Pleasantville. +After two months' confinement he had limped +out of the hospital, out of town, and out of Bart +Stirling's life.</p> + +<p>Colonel Jeptha Harrington himself had left +town with the beginning of winter. It was said +he intended to make an extended trip in Europe.</p> + +<p>With his departure, a new Mr. Baker seemed +to spring into existence. Divested of his disguise, +no longer a fear-filled roustabout fugitive, +Bart's strange friend had found a steady, lucrative +position at the hotel, and Bart felt that he +had certainly been the means of doing some real +good in the world every time he looked at the +happy, contented face of his protégé.</p> + +<p>Concerning all the details of Baker's past, Bart +never knew the entire truth.</p> + +<p>Baker felt, however, that it was due to his champion +that he explain in the main the mystery of +his connection with Colonel Harrington, and he +told a strange story.</p> + +<p>It seemed that the purse-proud colonel had a +poor brother living in another State.</p> + +<p>This brother owned a farm on which there lived +with him a man named Adams, a widower, and his +little daughter, Dorothy.</p> + +<p>Adams was a close friend of Samuel Harrington, +and out of his earnings saved the place from being +taken on a mortgage.</p> + +<p>Samuel Harrington always told Adams that he +had made a will, and that in case of his sudden death +the farm would go to him. He gave Adams a letter +certifying to his having a claim of over three thousand +dollars against the property, which he told +Adams to show to his rich brother when he died, +asserting that, although Colonel Harrington had +shamefully neglected him, he would never dishonorably +repudiate a claim of that kind.</p> + +<p>When Samuel Harrington died, his brother appeared, +took possession of the farm as only heir, +and cruelly drove Mr. Adams and his child from +the place.</p> + +<p>He tore up the written statement Adams gave +him, ridiculed his claims, and, no will being found, +sold the place for a song and left Adams an invalid +pauper.</p> + +<p>Adams had done Baker, or, as his real name +was, Albert Baker Mills, a great service once.</p> + +<p>Baker, or Mills, supported Adams and his child +for a year. Adams spent all his time bemoaning +his fate, and haunted the old farm in a search of +the will of Samuel Harrington.</p> + +<p>One day he did not appear, nor the following. +Early on the morning of the third day he staggered +into the house, weak and fainting. He was +taken down with a fever, was delirious for a week, +and at the end of that time died.</p> + +<p>Just before his death he tried to tell something +about the will. Baker made out that he had found +it, that it was at Pleasantville, nothing more.</p> + +<p>After his friend's death, Baker wrote a letter to +Colonel Harrington. He accused him of his dishonorable +conduct, and threatened to publicly expose +him if he did not provide in some way for the +little orphan, Dorothy, for whom he had found a +home with a poor relative.</p> + +<p>A week later Colonel Harrington sought +out Baker, told him he had trumped up a +charge against him that would land him in jail, +which Baker later discovered was the truth, +and gave him twenty-four hours to leave the +country.</p> + +<p>From that time the poor fellow was a fugitive, +venturing to appear only in disguise at Pleasantville. +Adams, it seemed, had found the will and +had sent it to Pleasantville addressed to himself, +not daring to face the colonel with the important +document in his possession, but never living to +carry out his plan.</p> + +<p>In the settlement with Colonel Harrington, +Baker had received a letter exculpating him totally +from the trumped up charge, and a check for five +thousand dollars, which money was now held in +trust by a bank to provide for little Dorothy's +future.</p> + +<p>Bart felt much gratified over the way all these +tangled strands in the warp and woof of his young +life had been straightened out, but he experienced +a final blessing that filled him with unutterable joy +and gratefulness.</p> + +<p>A week previous his father had returned from +a month's treatment by a city expert oculist.</p> + +<p>Robert Stirling came back to Pleasantville a +well man.</p> + +<p>That was a joyful night at the little Stirling +home, when Mr. Stirling once again looked with +restored sight upon the faces of the many friends +who respected and loved him.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stirling, while in the city, had been an invited +guest at the home of Mr. Leslie, and the +express superintendent had learned a good deal +more about his devoted son than he had ever +known before.</p> + +<p>"Come out of it!" hailed a jolly voice, and +Bart was disturbed in his pleasant reverie by the +appearance of Darry and Bob Haven.</p> + +<p>"It's settled!" cried the latter ecstatically?—"we're +going into the regular business at +last."</p> + +<p>"I don't quite catch on," returned Bart.</p> + +<p>"The printing and publishing business," put in +Darry. "We have got the money together for a +nice little plant, and father and mother are willing +that we shall go ahead. Some day you'll see us +running a regular newspaper."</p> + +<p>"Well, I wish you good luck—you certainly +deserve it," answered the young express agent, +warmly.</p> + +<p>"There is only one drawback," resumed Bob. +"We'll have to give up helping you."</p> + +<p>"Don't let that bother you. I'll find somebody +else. Say, it will be fine to start a regular +newspaper," went on Bart. "I guess you'd wake +some of the old-timers up—they are so moss-eaten. +This town needs a bright, up-to-date +sheet."</p> + +<p>"We are going to push the printing and publishing +business all we can," answered Darry, +earnestly. How he and his brother carried out +their project I shall relate in another story, to be +called, "Working Hard to Win." It was no light +undertaking, but the boys entered into it with a +vigor that was bound to command success.</p> + +<p>"You see, father can help us a good deal," said +Bob. "He used to be an editor, you know. And +more than that, mother can make us whatever pictures +we may need."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you'll be right in it, I know," laughed +Bart. "When you start your newspaper put me +down as the first subscriber. Your subscription +money is ready whenever you want it."</p> + +<p>At that moment a messenger appeared.</p> + +<p>"Letter for you," said he to the young express +agent, and hurried about his business.</p> + +<p>"From the express people," murmured Bart, +tearing open the letter.</p> + +<p>As he perused it, such a quick, bright glow +flashed into his face and eyes, that the watchful +Darry at once surmised that Bart had received a +communication out of the ordinary.</p> + +<p>"Good news, Bart?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"Read it," said Bart simply, and quick-witted +Darry saw that he was almost too overcome to +speak further.</p> + +<p>The letter was from Mr. Leslie the superintendent, +and contained two paragraphs.</p> + +<p>The first stated that from the fifteenth of the +coming month Mr. Robert Stirling would resume +his position as express agent at Pleasantville, +thenceforward made a "Class B" station, at a +salary of seventy dollars a month.</p> + +<p>The second paragraph requested Mr. Bart Stirling +to report at headquarters for assignment to +duty at a city office as assistant manager.</p> + +<p>Darry Haven reached out and caught the hand +of his loyal friend in a warm, glad clasp.</p> + +<p>"Capital!" he cried enthusiastically—"in line +with your motto, Bart Stirling—higher still!"</p> + + +<h3>THE END</h3> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Bart Stirling's Road to Success, by Allen Chapman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BART STIRLING'S ROAD TO SUCCESS *** + +***** This file should be named 15903-h.htm or 15903-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/9/0/15903/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Ed Casulli and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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