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Page 75
"This, Mr. Wacker," pursued Bart quietly, "you have to-night committed a
crime that means State's prison for ten years if I make the complaint."
"I'll have a partner in it, all the same!" remarked Wacker grimly.
The colonel groaned.
"You were after a package that belongs to a friend of mine," continued
Bart. "I want to know why, and I want to know what you have done with
that person."
"Don't you torture me!" cried Wacker irritably--"don't you let him," he
blared out to the quacking magnate. "I won't say a word. Let Harrington
do as he pleases. He's the king bee! Only, just this, Harrington, you
take care of me or I'll blow the whole business."
"Yes, yes," stammered the colonel in a mean, servile way, approaching
the litter, "leave it all to me, Wacker. Don't raise a row, Stirling,"
he pleaded piteously, "don't have him arrested, I'll foot the bill, I'll
square everything. This matter must be hushed--yes, yes, hushed up!"
hoarsely groaned the military man. "Oh, its dreadful, dreadful!"
Bart felt that he had matters in strong control, spoke a word to
McCarthy and, when the ambulance came, allowed them to take Lem Wacker
to the hospital.
Then he and Colonel Harrington were alone. The latter was in a pitiable
condition of fear and humiliation.
"See here, Stirling," he said finally, "I'll confess the truth. I've
done wrong. There's a paper in that package that would mean disgrace for
me if it was made public. I'll own to that, but it's over a dead and
buried business, and it can do no good to make it public property now. I
warn you if it is, I will shoot myself through the head."
Bart doubted if the colonel had the courage to carry out his threat, but
he temporized with the great man, got him to make enough admissions to
somewhat clear the situation, and the long discussion ended with the
announcement by Colonel Harrington that he "would go."
In other words, he confessed that Baker, Bart's friend and the highest
bidder for the mysterious express package, was a prisoner in his barn.
In some way Lem Wacker had become aware of Baker's secret, whatever that
was, and had helped the colonel in his efforts to suppress Baker and
secure possession of the package.
Bart was shocked at this exhibition of cold-blooded villainy on the part
of a representative member of the community, although he had never had
much use for the pompous, domineering old tyrant, who now led the way
through the silent Streets of Pleasantville as meek as a lamb.
He took Bart through the beautiful grounds of his sumptuous home, and to
a windowless padlocked room in the loft of the stable.
Poor Baker, his hands secured with stout pieces of wire, arose from a
stool with a gleam of hope on his pallid face as Bart followed the
colonel into the room.
"See here, Baker--which isn't your name--but it will do--" said the
colonel at once, "things have turned your way. Your friend here, young
Stirling, has got the whip-hand--I am cornered, and admit it. I want to
make a proposition to you, Stirling needn't hear it. When you have
decided, we will call him into the room again and he will see that you
get your rights. Is that satisfactory?"
"What shall I do?" asked Baker of Bart.
"Hear what Colonel Harrington has to say. If it suits you, settle up
this matter as you think right. I am here to see that he does as he
promises."
Bart stepped out of the room. There was a continuous hum of conversation
for nearly half an hour. Then the colonel opened the door.
"I'm to go into the house to write out something Baker wants," he
explained. "Then I'll come back."
"Very well," nodded Bart.
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