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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. The crowd was met by a current of juvenile humanity. "R...
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...
"Yes, take it, Stirling," he said. "Show him, boys." "Yes, you'll have to show me," suggested Bart significantly. "What's the mystery, anyhow?" "No mystery at all," answered Dale, "only a surprise. See it--well, it's loaded." "Clean to the muzzle!" bubbled over an excited urchin.
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. "Old Hurricane" the relic cannon had been dubbed when what was left of Company C, Second Infa...
Bart was a little startled as he comprehended what was in the wind. He thrilled a trifle; his eyes sparkled brightly. "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...
"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." The crowd kept pushing Bart forward in eager excitement. "Why don't you light it yourself?" inquired Bart of Dale. "I've sp...
"Go ahead, Bart! touch her off," implored little Sawyer, quivering with excitement. "Whoop! hurrah!" yelled a frantic chorus as Bart took a voluntary step up the hill. 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, w...
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. "Ready!" he called back merrily over his shoulder. The hillside vibrated with the flutter of expectant juvenile humanity and a vast babel of half-suppressed excited voices. Bart applied the punk...
CHAPTER III COUNTING THE COST Bart had quickly moved to one side of the cannon after lighting the fuse, and was about twenty feet away when the explosion came. The alarming echoes, the shock, flare and smoke combined to give him a terrific sensation.
The crowd that had retreated down the hill in delightful trepidation now came trooping back filled with a bolder excitement. 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. Some were staring up...
"Look yonder!" piped a second breathless voice. "Say, I thought I heard something strike." Dale Wacker came upon the scene--not limping, but chuckling and winking to the cronies at his back. "Pretty good aim, eh, fellows?" he gloated. "Stirling, you're a capital gunner." All eyes were now turned in a new direction--in ...
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. Bart gasped, thrilled, and experienced a strange qualm of dismay. He discerned in a flash that something heretofore always prominently present on the...
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. "See here!"--cried Bart stormingly, turning on Dale Wacker. "Loaded," significantly observed the latter with a diabolical grin. A rush of keen realization made Bart ...
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. "You've spoiled my Fourth," began Bart in a tumult. "I'll spoil your--" "Cut for it, fellows! they're coming for us!" "They" were the village officers. Bart had...
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. "Hold on!" gasped a breathless voice. "Don't stop me!" shouted Bart, trying to tear loose from a frantic grip. "Oh, it's you--what do you want?" He halted to survey the person who detained him--the...
"Come, quick!" the man panted. "Express shed--where your father is--trouble. Don't wait--not a minute." "See here," challenged Bart, instantly startled into a new tremor of anxiety, "what do you mean?" But the forlorn roustabout could not be coherent. He continued to gasp and splutter out excited adjectives, fragmentar...
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. "See here," panted Bart, as, still running, they were headed ...
"Yes!" gulped Bart's companion. "Who is it?" "Don't know." "Why didn't you stop them?"
"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....
Sharp and clear Bart sang out. Approaching the express shed from the side, his glance shifted to the rear. 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 oth...
The speaker sprang to the ground and disappeared around the corner of the shed with the words. 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. "What are you about here?" demanded the latter. The ...
"Lemme go!" he mouthed, with purposely subdued intonation. "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!" He swung his captive towards the light, but a broad-peaked cap and the partial disguise of a...
His hand clenched the implement he had used to pry away the bars, and Bart now saw what it was. 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. It consisted of a three foot iron rod, sharpene...
"Never!" declared Bart. 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. He let go his grip, ducked, made a pass to grasp the burglar's ankle, but missed it. An explosion, a sharp flare, a keen shock f...
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. The blow intended for him had landed upon one of the iron bars of the window with a force that exploded the track torpedo. It had flared out one broad sp...
BLIND FOR LIFE Bart's first thought was of his father. He instantly leaped from the platform. 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. He was fairly appalled at the suddenness with which the flames enveloped t...
Rockets were fizzing, giant crackers exploding by the pack, and colored chemicals sending out a varied glow. Bart dashed for the front--a muffled cry caused him to hurry his speed. His father had uttered the cry. Dazed by the light, his eyes filled with smarting particles of burned powder, Bart suddenly came in violent...
"Told you so!" gasped the latter in a desperate fluster. "Fire--I'll help you." "Yes, quick! run," breathed Bart, rushing ahead, "My father's in that burning building!" Bart was thrilled. The main room of the express shed was one bright blur of brilliancy and colored smoke. It rolled and whirled, obliterating all outli...
"Father! father!" shouted Bart, dashing recklessly in at the open doorway. 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. "Father!" he screamed, as his hands touched the arms of the chair and f...
"Here he is," sounded a suffocating voice. "Where, oh! where?" panted Bart. He threw out his arms wildly, groping to locate the speaker, whom he knew to be the roustabout. "Where is he--where is he?" He had come in contact with the roustabout now, who with all his timidity was proving himself a hero in the present inst...
"Lying on the floor--stumbled over him--I'm on fire, too!" Bart's feet touched a prostrate form. It was moved along as Bart stooped and got hold of the shoulders. The roustabout was helping him. They dragged together, stumbling to the doorway on the very verge of fatal danger, and reeled across the platform. The rousta...
Bart anxiously scanned his father's face. It was black and blistered but he was breathing naturally. "Overcome with the smoke--or tumbled and was stunned," declared the roustabout. Excited approaching shouts caused the speaker to glare down the tracks. Half a dozen people were hurrying to the scene of the fire. The rou...
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. 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 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. "You are young Stirling, are you not?" he interrogated. "Yes, sir," nodded Bart. "Don't get frightened or worried, but I am Doctor Davis. We thought i...
"To the hospital!" echoed Bart turning pale. "Then he is badly injured--" "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." "Tell me the worst!" pleaded Bart in a choked tone, but tryin...
"I must tell my mother at once," murmured Bart. 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. If his father was di...
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. The strain was relieved when Bertha Stirling came home about eleven o'clock. She was in ...
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. "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?" "No," answered the sobbing girl, "he wi...
READY FOR BUSINESS 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. Bart, however, was little in harmony with the jollity and excitement of the occasion. He had spent a sleepless n...
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. "Poor father!" he murmured brokenly. Then he added: "Mother, I want you to go in a...
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. A heap o...
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. 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 fr...
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. There was a good deal of questioning, for they knew of the fi...
He placed his load on the bench outside and stuck his head in through the open doorway. "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?" "Eh? oh, young Stirling. Say, you've had a fire....
"Too bad. I have troubles of my own, though." "What is the matter, Mr. Evans?" "Next time I give that lazy, good-for-nothing Lem Wacker work he'll know it, I'm thinking! Look there--and there!" The irate old railroader kicked over the wooden cuspidor in disgust. It was loaded to the top with tobacco and cigarette ends....
"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?" Bart gave a start. He thought instantly of the black streaked face he had tried to survey at the express shed win...
"Oh, he flared up big and lofty, and said he had a better job in view." Bart went on his way surmising a good deal and suspecting more. 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...
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: EXPRESS OFFICE. This Bart nailed to the door jamb in such a way that it was visible from three directions. Next he started to carry outside and pile neatly at the blind...
He had gained a pretty clear idea the day previous from his father as to the Fourth of July express service routine. The fireworks deliveries had been the main thing, but as these had been destroyed that part of the programme was off the sheet. At eight o'clock the morning express would bring in its usual quota, but th...
A freight engine soon came to the spot, backing down the express car. Its engineer halted with a jerk and a vivid: "Hello!" 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. There w...
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. These could not be delivered until two o'clock that afternoon, and he stowed them in the new express shed, cov...
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. "I'll stick to my post," he decided. "Some of the express people...
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...
Bart had just completed the fire-loss list when a heavy step caused him to turn around. A portly, well-dressed man, important-appearing and evidently on business, stood in the doorway looking sharply about the place. "Well!" he uttered, "What's this?" "The express office," said Bart, arising.
"Oh, it is?" slowly commented the man, "You in charge?" "Yes, sir," politely answered Bart. "Set up shop; doing business, eh?" "Fast as I can," announced Bart.
"Who told you to?" demanded the visitor bending a pair of stern eyes on Bart. "Why do you ask that, may I inquire?" interrogated Bart, pleasantly, but standing his ground. "Ha-hum!" retorted the stranger, "why do ask. Because I am the superintendent of the express company, young man, and somewhat interested in knowing,...
GETTING "SATISFACTION" Bart did not lose his presence of mind, but he fully realized that he faced a critical moment in his career. Very courteously he drew forward the rude impromptu bench he had knocked together two hours before. "Will you have a seat, sir?" he asked.
The express superintendent did not lose his dignity, but there was a slightly humorous twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Thanks," he said, wearily seating himself on the rude structure. "Rather primitive furniture for a big express company, it seems to me." "It was the best I could provide under the circumstances...
Bart acknowledged the imputation with a nod. "And that--desk, is it?" "Yes, sir." "And the sign outside, and opened for business?"
"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." "Just so," vouchsafed his visitor. "No out shipments to-day, I b...
"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." "You have done very well, young man," said the stranger. "I am Robert Leslie, the superinten...
"What's this?" he inquired, running over the pages Bart had last been working on. "That is a list of losers by the fire," explained Bart. "This is from memory?" "Yes, Mr. Leslie--but I have a good one, and I think the list is tolerably correct."
"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." "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 ...
"Nearly nineteen." "I suppose you know something about the routine here?" "I have helped my father a little for the past month or two--yes, sir." "And have improved your opportunities, judging from the common-sense way you have got things into temporary running order," commented Leslie.
The speaker took out his watch. Then, glancing through the doorway, he arose suddenly, with the words: "Ah! there he is, now. I suppose you couldn't be here about four o'clock this afternoon?" "Why, certainly," answered Bart promptly. "People are likely to be around making inquiries, and I have a delivery to make this ...
"I will be here, sir." 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. As the two men strolled slowly over to the ruins of the express shed, Bart heard Mr. Leslie remark: "That's a smart boy in there."
"And a good one," supplemented the freight agent. Bart experienced a thrill of pleasure at the homely compliment. He tried to get back to business, but he found himself considerably flustered. All the morning his hopes and plans had drifted in one definite direction--to get some assurance of permanent employment for th...
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. Finally they shook hands in parting. The express superintend...
"Did you address me?" inquired the superintendent in a chilling tone. Lem was not daunted by the imposing presence or the dignified demeanor of the speaker. "Sure," he answered, unabashed. "You're Leslie, ain't you?" "I am Mr. Leslie, yes," corrected the superintendent, his stern brow contracted in a frown.
"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." "What do you want?" challenged the superintendent, turning on his heel. "Why, it's this way," explained the dauntless Lem: "I'm an old railroader and ...
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. "I don't think he has made a very promising impression," decided Bart, as he got back to his writing. "Say, you!" Bart looked up a trifle startled at the sharp hail, ten minutes later....
Lem Wacker stood just in the doorway. He looked flushed, excited and vicious. "What can I do for you, Mr. Wacker?" inquired Bart calmly, though scenting trouble in the air. "You can undo!" flared out Wacker, "and you'll get quick action on it, or I'll clean you out, bag and baggage." "There isn't much baggage here to c...
"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!" "I would like to have you explain," remarked Bart. "You've queered me!" roared Wacker, "and I'm going to have satisfaction--yes, sir. Sat-is-fac-tion!" He pounded out the syllable...
Bart's patience was tried. His eyes flashed, but he stooped and picked up the pages and replaced them on the dry goods box. "Don't you do that again," he warned in a strained tone. "Why!" yelled Wacker, rolling up his cuffs. "I'll trim you next! 'Don't-do-it-again!' eh? Boo! bah!"
Lem raised his foot and kicked over the desk, papers and all. "That's express company property," observed Bart quietly, but his blood was up, the limit reached. "Get out!" One arm shot forward, and the clenched muscular fist rested directly under the chin of the astounded Lem Wacker. "And stay out."
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. CHAPTER VII WAITING FOR TROUBLE Lem Wacker rolled over, then sat up, rubbed his head in a half-dazed manner, and muttered in a silly, sheepish way.
"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." Lem ...
"What am I marked with," inquired Bart quickly--"burnt cork?" "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. Bart's worries were pleasantly broken in upon by the arrival of his sister Bertha. She brought ...
At half-past two Bart loaded the two ice cream freezers on the cart and started for the picnic grounds. 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 g...
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. Colonel Harrington, it seemed, was the self-appointed hero of the occasion. The great man of the vi...
Like some orators, the colonel, once disturbed by an extraneous contemplation, lost his voice, cue and self-possession all in a second. It seemed as if he could not take his eyes from the innocent and embarrassed author of his distraction. He spluttered, the rounded sentence on his lips died down to measly insignifican...
"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 disl...
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. The villa...
On a sheet of blank paper was scrawled the words: "Express safe was locked last night--contents all right." 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. CHAPTER VIII THE YOUNG EXPRESS AGENT
Our hero regarded the little pile of account books as if they represented some long-lost, newly-found treasure. 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 rescu...
"And the contents of the safe are all right, too, that writing says!" exclaimed Bart; "now what does all this mean?" The handwriting of the announcement was crude and labored, and the boy felt sure he had never seen it before. He glanced with some excitement at the ruins of the old express shed, then he went over there...
"Why don't you work holidays, Stirling?" asked one of them satirically. "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." The safe lay flat on its back where it had f...
"We heard the old iron box was caught open by the fire and everything in it burned up," spoke one of the trackmen. "I supposed so myself," said Bart, "but it seems otherwise. I wonder how heavy it is?" "Wait till I get some tackle," said one of the workmen. He went away and returned with two crowbars and a pulley and b...
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. Just as the town bell rang out four o'clock, Mr. Leslie stepped over the threshold. He glanced about the place brisk...
"Not quite," replied Bart with a smile, "but someone else seems to be." "Are those the office books we thought burned up, and the safe?" "Yes, sir." "How is this?"
Bart told of the mysterious return of the books and of the scrap of writing that had led him to dig up the safe. "That's a pretty strange circumstance," observed Mr. Leslie thoughtfully. "How do you account for it?" "I can't," admitted Bart, "except to theorize, of course, that someone had enough interest in myself or ...
"Whoever it was," said Bart, "he has certainly proved himself a good, true friend." "Have you no idea who it is?" challenged Mr. Leslie sharply. Bart hesitated for a moment. "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...
"I would like to meet that man!" commented Mr. Leslie. "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." "He is some poor unfortunate in trouble," said the superintendent. "If you do see him,...
"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." The superintendent, seating himself on the bench, consulted his watch and fixed his glance on Bart in his former stern, practical way. "I saw your father at the hospital," he anno...
"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." "Oh, sir! I thank you," said Bart spontaneousl...
"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." "I shall do my best." "And I believe you will succeed. I like you, Stirling," sai...
"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 sen...
"I want you!" spoke a harsh, sudden voice, and Bart Stirling came out of dreamland with a shock. CHAPTER IX COLONEL JEPTHA HARRINGTON 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 Colone...
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. "Yes, sir," announced Bart promptly--"what can I do for you?" Bart did not get ...
"May I ask what for?" interrogated Bart. Colonel Harrington shook, as he placed his cane under his arm and took out his big plethoric wallet. He selected a strip of paper and held it between his forefinger and thumb. "Young man," he observed, "do you know what that is?"

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