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Page 61
Baker struggled to his feet. He was in a pitiable state of agitation and
nervousness.
"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--"
He rushed to the door overcome, like a man on the verge of a fit.
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.
When he had disposed of the matter, Bart hurried to the outside. Baker
was nowhere in sight.
CHAPTER XXV
A NIGHT MESSAGE
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.
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.
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.
Things were back to normal when the afternoon express came in. It was
nearly two hours late, and closing time.
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.
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.
"Both closed up by this time," ruminated Bart. "We can't deliver
to-night. Anything very urgent among that stuff, Darry?"
"Nothing," replied his young assistant.
"You can go home, then," directed Bart. "Pretty tired, eh? A big day's
work, this."
"Say, Bart," spoke up Darry, as he dallied at the door, "who was the
fellow that bought that last package?"
"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."
"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."
"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?"
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.
"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."
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