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Page 67
"I will do that for you, sir," spoke up Bart--"I am in charge of the
express office at Pleasantville. I am going on this train, and I will be
glad to see that your goods are attended to just right, and transferred
on time."
"Say, will you?" exclaimed the farmer in a pleased tone. "Now, that's
just 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 cents
apiece, that means quite a loss on an unlucky shipment."
"It does, indeed, Mr. Simms," responded Bart "I am very much interested
in the little workers, and you can rest easy as to their being rightly
cared for. I believe I will ride to Pleasantville in the express car, so
your bees will be right under my eye till they are put on the city
express."
"Thank you, thank you," said the farmer heartily.
As the train whistled in the distance, he came up to Bart and slipped a
bank note in his hand.
Bart demurred, but it was no use. He found himself two dollars richer
for 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 a
brief explanation to the messenger, showing his pass. He waved a
pleasant adieu to Pope and the farmer as the express car door was closed
and locked.
When Bart got home he was more than tired out. But he had done well and
in the end got full praise for his work.
A day passed, and Bart failed to find Baker. He hunted everywhere and
kept up the search until he knew not where to look further.
Bart went home. He had scarcely reached his bedroom when there was a
vigorous summons at the front door.
"I hope it is Baker," murmured Bart, as he slipped on the coat he had
just 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 first
at the signature, and marveling at its unusual length. It was signed by
Robert Leslie, superintendent of the express company, at the city end of
the 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 defray
any extra cost for having it accepted personally by A.B. Martin, and
receipted for by him in the presence of witnesses. Delivery to be legal,
must be made before twelve, midnight, and this certified to. This is a
very important matter for one of the company's largest customers. Be
sure to make delivery on time."
Bart read the telegram over twice, taking in its important details, with
a serious face.
"Fifteen thousand dollars!" he repeated. "It has saved me some worry
that I did not discover the amount before. As to the delivery, that is
easy. I've got over two hours yet. I see what it is. Martin & Company
probably want to throw up a contract because prices have gone up, the
contract must be made binding by payment of fifteen thousand dollars by
midnight, 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 of
speed in the direction from which he had just come.
"Hello!" he forcibly ejaculated, as it flashed by him, the corner street
lamp irradiating its interior brightly--"there's queer company for you!"
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