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Page 32
"I have confidence in your word, Mr. Baker," said Bart simply.
"Thank you, I'll prove I deserve it yet," declared the strange man.
There was a spell of silence. Finally Bart decided to venture a question
on a theme he was very curious about.
"Do you know Colonel Jeptha Harrington?" he asked suddenly.
"Hoo--eh?"
He had startled Baker--his incoherent mutterings persuaded Bart of
this.
"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?"
"Well, yes, it was," admitted Baker in a low tone.
"And you said something to him."
"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."
"How could you do that?" inquired Bart, very much interested.
"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."
"I understand, now," said Bart.
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.
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.
"This has been a pretty dull Fourth for you, Bart," said his mother
sympathizingly.
"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."
A graceful rocket parted the air at a distance, followed by the
delighted shouts of juvenile spectators.
"Upward and onward," murmured Mrs. Stirling, placing a tender, loving
hand on Bart's shoulder.
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.
Then it broke grandly, sending a radiant glow across the clear, serene
sky.
"That's my motto," said Bart, a touch of intense resolve in his
tones--"higher still!"
CHAPTER XIV
MRS. HARRINGTON'S TRUNK
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