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Page 63
It was two o'clock when the train arrived at Bart's destination. He
found Cardysville to be a place of about 2,000 inhabitants. Most of the
town, however, lay half-a-mile away from the B. & M. Railroad, another
line cutting in farther north.
Bart noticed crowds of people and a circus tent in the distance. The
express shed was a gloomy little den of a place on a spur track. Near
the depot was a small lunch counter. Bart got something to eat, and
strolled down the tracks.
As he drew near to the express shed, Bart noticed an old armchair out on
its platform.
A very stout man in his shirt sleeves sat in this, smoking a pipe.
He got up and waddled around restlessly. Bart noticed that he approached
the door of the express office on tiptoe. He acted scared, for, bending
his ear to listen, he retreated precipitately. Then he stood
stock-still, staring stupidly at the building.
He gave a nervous start as Bart came up behind him--quite a jump, in
fact. Bart, studying his flabby, uneasy face, wondered what was the
matter with the man.
"Hello!" jerked out the Cardysville express agent. "Sort of startled
me."
"Are you Mr. Pope?" inquired Bart.
"Yes, that's me," assented the other. "Stranger here? looking for me?"
"I am," answered Bart. "My name is Stirling. I work at the express
office at Pleasantville."
"Oh, yes, I've heard of you," said Peter Pope. "The express inspector
wrote me about you. He said you was a young kid, sort of green in the
business, who might drop in on me to get some points on the business."
"Quite so," nodded Bart with a side smile, "catching on," as the phrase
goes, and at once falling in with the way the inspector was working
matters. "We can't learn too much about the express business, you know,
and I thought that by comparing notes with you we might dig out
something of mutual benefit."
"You bet!" responded Pope, perking up quite grandly. "The Vice-President
of the express company is my cousin. I've got a big pull. Soon as I get
the ropes learned, I'm going for a manager's job in the city."
"That will be quite fine," said Bart. "I brought some books and blanks
with me, and, if you can spare the time, I would like to have you see
how our system strikes you."
"Sure. Come in--no, that is, I'll bring out a chair. I keep only one
record. I've got this business simplified down to a lead pencil and a
scratch book, see?"
Bart did "see," and knew that the express inspector had "seen," also. He
wondered why Pope did not take him into the office. He marveled still
more as, watching Pope, he noticed he hesitated at the door of the
express shed. Then Pope moved forward as if actually unwilling to enter
the place.
Half a minute after he had disappeared within the shed, Pope came
rushing out, pale and flustered. He tumbled over the chair he was
bringing to Bart, and a book he carried went flying from under his arm
into the dirt of the road beyond the platform.
"Why," exclaimed Bart, in some surprise, "what is the matter, Mr. Pope?"
"Matter!" gasped Pope, his eyes rolling, as he backed away from the
doorway, "say, that place is haunted!"
"What place?"
"The express room. I've been worried for an hour. It's nigh tuckered me
out."
"What has?" inquired Bart
"Groans, hisses, rustlings. I thought a while back that someone was
hiding in among the express stuff, and trying to scare me. 'Taint so,
though. I went among it, and there's no place for anybody to hide."
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