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Page 58
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.
One man disclosed his purchase to be a setting of eggs. They were packed
in cotton and intact, though probably a year old.
"Take them out--take them out," yelled the crowd.
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.
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.
"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."
"Money, jewelry, and such, I suppose?" propounded Lawyer Stebbings, who
loaned money at a high rate of interest.
"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."
"Good! let's have a sample," demanded Stebbings. "Can I examine? Ah,
thanks."
The crowd passed from hand to hand a small well-wrapped package.
"Watch!" hoarsely whispered someone.
"Feels like it!" said a second.
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.
One purchaser got a gold pen, another a very pretty stick pin.
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.
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.
Finally, however, Wacker put up his forefinger as Bart was bidding off a
thin wooden box about four inches square.
"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?"
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.
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.
"Number 529," announced Bart a few minutes later--"the last package,
gentlemen!"
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