CHAPTER XXVI
ON THE MIDNIGHT EXPRESS
"Air--and water!" panted the mysterious occupant of the trunk.
Bart looked him over in some wonder. He was a short, wiry man, andarrayed in a close-fitting costume resembling that of the circus athleteon duty.
The man was drenched with perspiration and so nearly exhausted with hissuffocating imprisonment, that his voice was rasping and hollow.
He was weak, too. As he stepped over the side of the trunk he staggeredfeebly. Then, making out an open window and a pail of drinking water ona bench near it, he made a swift dive in that direction.
First the man stuck his head out of the window and drew in greatdraughts of pure, fresh air.
Then he seized the tin cup near the pail. He dipped up the water anddrank cupful after cupful until Bart eyed him in some alarm.
"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 noProfessor Rigoletto."
As he spoke he went back to the trunk. He took out a long gossamer raincoat that had been used as a pillow. This he proceeded to put on.
It came to his feet. He buttoned it up, drew a jaunty crush cap from oneof its pockets, and grinned pleasantly into the face of the petrifiedPeter Pope.
"See here!" blurted out the Cardysville express agent, "thisisn't--isn't regular. It isn't schedule, you know."
"I hope not--sincerely," airily retorted the stranger. "Fifty miles on aslow train, three hours waiting in a close trunk. Ah, no. But I'vearrived. Ha, ha, that's so!"
He glanced into the trunk. Its bottom seemed covered with some coarseburlap. Professor Rigoletto threw shut the cover.
"Aha!" he said suddenly, bending his ear as a strain of distant circusmusic floated on the air. "Show on, I'll be late. I'll call later--"
"No, you don't!" interrupted Pope, recovering from his fright, andplacing his bulky form in the doorway.
"Don't what, my friend?" mildly asked the Professor.
"Deadhead--beat the express company. You're one trunk--and excessweight."
"I don't dispute it. What, then?"
"Pay," promptly and definitely announced the agent.
"Can't. Haven't a cent. That's why I had to get a friend to ship me thisway. But he said he'd wire ahead to my partner with the circus, whowould call for me here. I'll go and find him, and settle the bill."
"You don't leave here until those charges are paid. You want to berapid, too," declared Pope, "or I'll see if the railroad company don'twant to collect fare, as well."
"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, Idemand live-stock privileges, see?"
The express agent looked worried.
"What am I to do?" he asked, in a quandary, of Bart.
"Oh," smiled Bart, "I guess you had better trust him to find his friendand come back with the money."
"I'll hold the trunk, anyway," observed Pope. "What have you got in it?Some old worthless togs, I suppose."
"Mistake--about a thousand dollars in value," coolly retorted theProfessor.
"Yes, you have! I thought so. Some old burlap."
"Careful, my friend!" spoke the deadhead sharply. "There's nothing therethat you will care to see."
"Isn't there? I'll investigate, just the same," declared Pope, throwingback the trunk cover and delving in the heap of burlap. "Murder! Help!"
Peter Pope uttered a fearful yell. He backed from the trunk suddenly, Asinuous, hissing form had risen up before his face.
This was an enormous cobra, and, under the circumstances, very frightfulto 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 theroad.
"Prt! prt! Caesar, so--so!" spoke Professor Rigoletto in a peculiar,purring tone, approaching the serpent.
He coaxed and forced the big snake back into its warm coverings, andshut down the trunk cover and clasped it. Bart, highly edified at theunique incident, followed him outside.
"I'm the Cingalese snake-charmer," explained Professor Rigoletto."Sorry, my friend," he observed to the wry-faced Pope, who was busyscraping the mud from his clothing, "but I told you so."
"Ugh!" shuddered the agent. "You get that trunk out of heredouble-quick, or I'll have you arrested."
"Sure, I will," answered the Professor with alacrity, "and I promise youthat I will bring or send you the express charges by the time the showis over."
Professor Rigoletto dragged the trunk to the platform. It was not aheavy burden, now. Bart good-humoredly assisted him in getting itbalanced properly on his shoulder. The professor courteously thanked himand asked him to come and see the show free, and marched off quitecontented with the result of his daring deadhead experiment.
The Cardysville express agent was greatly worked up over the incident ofthe hour. It was some time before he could get his mind sufficientlycalmed down to discuss business affairs coherently.
Bart, however, handled the man in a pleasant, politic manner, and soonhad results working.
He let Peter Pope imagine that he was the originator of every idea thathe, Bart himself, suggested. He very deftly introduced the system invogue at the Pleasantville express office.
In fact, at the end of two hours Bart had accomplished all he had beensent to do. He had got Pope's records into sensible shape, had opened asmall set of books for him, and knew that the inspector must be pleasedwith the results.
Bart had missed the early afternoon train. There was no other running toPleasantville direct until eleven o'clock that night.
He had planned to put in the time strolling about town, when ProfessorRigoletto appeared. He was accompanied by a friend.
The latter ascertained the express charges on the trunk, paid them, andhanded both Bart and Pope a free ticket to the evening's entertainment.
Bart took a stroll by himself, got his supper at a neat littlerestaurant, and met Pope as agreed at the door of the main show tent atseven o'clock.
They were given good seats, and they had the pleasure of seeingProfessor Rigoletto and his big snake under more agreeable conditionsthan those of their first introduction to them.
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 theeast bound train was due to arrive in thirty minutes.
As they walked up and down the platform, a horse and wagon drove up tothe little express shed. Pope went over to it. Bart accompanied him.
The driver of the wagon was a brisk, smart-looking farmery individual.Pope knew him, and nodded to him in a friendly fashion.
"Come after something?" inquired the agent "I don't recall that there isanything here for you."
"No, I want to express these hives," answered the farmer.
He indicated six boxes lying in his wagon, covered with gauze.
"Bother!" said Pope, a little crossly. "That's no midnight job. Whydon't you come in the daytime, Mr. Simms? You just caught me here bychance, at this outlandish hour."
"Particular shipment," explained Simms, "and I've got to catch thetrains 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 wantyou to instruct the messenger to follow the directions carded on theboxes."
"I can do that," said Pope. "What he will do, is another thing."
"You see," continued the farmer, "if they handle them carefully atPleasantville, and see that they catch the early express to the cityfrom there, someone will be waiting to take them in charge at theterminus. I'd be awful glad to tip the messenger handsomely to havesomeone at Pleasantville, where they transfer the hives, open theventilators for a spell and tip down into the pans some of the honeysyrup."
"I will do that for you, sir," spoke up Bart--"I am in charge of theexp
ress office at Pleasantville. I am going on this train, and I will beglad to see that your goods are attended to just right, and transferredon time."
"Say, will you?" exclaimed the farmer in a pleased tone. "Now, that'sjust 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 centsapiece, that means quite a loss on an unlucky shipment."
"It does, indeed, Mr. Simms," responded Bart "I am very much interestedin the little workers, and you can rest easy as to their being rightlycared for. I believe I will ride to Pleasantville in the express car, soyour bees will be right under my eye till they are put on the cityexpress."
"Thank you, thank you," said the farmer heartily.
As the train whistled in the distance, he came up to Bart and slipped abank note in his hand.
Bart demurred, but it was no use. He found himself two dollars richerfor his accommodating proposition.
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 abrief explanation to the messenger, showing his pass. He waved apleasant adieu to Pope and the farmer as the express car door was closedand locked.
When Bart got home he was more than tired out. But he had done well andin the end got full praise for his work.
A day passed, and Bart failed to find Baker. He hunted everywhere andkept up the search until he knew not where to look further.
Bart went home. He had scarcely reached his bedroom when there was avigorous summons at the front door.
"I hope it is Baker," murmured Bart, as he slipped on the coat he hadjust taken off.
"A telegram, Bart," said his mother, at the bottom of the stairs.
She had receipted for it. Bart tore it open wonderingly, glancing firstat the signature, and marveling at its unusual length. It was signed byRobert Leslie, superintendent of the express company, at the city end ofthe line.
This is what it said:
"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 defrayany extra cost for having it accepted personally by A.B. Martin, andreceipted for by him in the presence of witnesses. Delivery to be legal,must be made before twelve, midnight, and this certified to. This is avery important matter for one of the company's largest customers. Besure to make delivery on time."
Bart read the telegram over twice, taking in its important details, witha serious face.
"Fifteen thousand dollars!" he repeated. "It has saved me some worrythat I did not discover the amount before. As to the delivery, that iseasy. I've got over two hours yet. I see what it is. Martin & Companyprobably want to throw up a contract because prices have gone up, thecontract must be made binding by payment of fifteen thousand dollars bymidnight, or Dunn & Son lose. All right."
His mother noticed that some important business was on her son's mind,and only told Bart to take care of himself.
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 ofspeed in the direction from which he had just come.
"Hello!" he forcibly ejaculated, as it flashed by him, the corner streetlamp irradiating its interior brightly--"there's queer company for you!"
The remark was warranted. The occupants of the vehicle were ColonelJeptha Harrington and Lem Wacker.
Bart Stirling's Road to Success; Or, The Young Express Agent Page 26
