Bart Stirling's Road to Success; Or, The Young Express Agent

by George A. Warren

  CHAPTER XXIX

  BROUGHT TO TIME

  "I'll go!" said Colonel Jeptha Harrington, magnate of Pleasantville.

  "All right," said Bart Stirling, express company agent.

  It was three o'clock in the morning, and the scene was the littleexpress office where so many unusual and exciting happenings hadtranspired within twenty-four hours.

  The colonel's announcement was given in the tone of a man facing a hardproposition and forced to accept it--or something worse.

  Bart's reply was calm and off-handed. During a two hours' siege with themilitary man he had never lost his temper or his wits, and had come offthe victor.

  When Bart had concluded his very creditable piece of business with Mr.Martin of the pickle factory, he had sent Darry and Bob Haven back tobed, and had forthwith returned to the express office.

  Colonel Harrington, scared-looking and sullen, was still there. Heseemed to have met his match in the young express agent, and dared notdefy him.

  Bart found McCarthy, the night watchman, on guard outside, who told himthat they had got Lem Wacker clear of the bumpers, had carried him intothe express office, made up a rude litter, and had sent for a surgeon.

  The latter had just concluded his labors as Bart entered. Lem Wacker laywith his foot bandaged up, conscious, and in no intense pain, for thesurgeon had given him some deadening medicine.

  "He belongs at the hospital," the surgeon advised Bart. "That foot willhave to come off."

  "As bad as that!" murmured Bart.

  "Yes. I will telephone for the ambulance when I leave here."

  "Very well," acquiesced Bart. "Can I speak with the patient?"

  "If he will speak with you. He's an ugly, ungrateful mortal!"

  Bart went over to the side of the prostrate man.

  "Mr. Wacker," he said, "I do not wish to trouble you in your presentcondition, but something has got to be understood before you leave thisplace. You go to the hospital as a prisoner or as a patient, just as youelect."

  "Pile it on! pile it on!" growled Wacker. "You've got the upper hand,and you'll squeeze me, I suppose. All the same, those who stand back ofme will take care of me or I'll explode a bomb that will shatterPleasantville to pieces!"

  Colonel Harrington shuddered at this palpable allusion to himself.

  "And I'm going to sue the railroad company for my smashed foot. What doyou want?"

  "This, Mr. Wacker," pursued Bart quietly, "you have to-night committed acrime 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," continuedBart. "I want to know why, and I want to know what you have done withthat person."

  "Don't you torture me!" cried Wacker irritably--"don't you let him," heblared out to the quacking magnate. "I won't say a word. Let Harringtondo as he pleases. He's the king bee! Only, just this, Harrington, youtake care of me or I'll blow the whole business."

  "Yes, yes," stammered the colonel in a mean, servile way, approachingthe 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'llsquare 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 toMcCarthy and, when the ambulance came, allowed them to take Lem Wackerto the hospital.

  Then he and Colonel Harrington were alone. The latter was in a pitiablecondition of fear and humiliation.

  "See here, Stirling," he said finally, "I'll confess the truth. I'vedone wrong. There's a paper in that package that would mean disgrace forme if it was made public. I'll own to that, but it's over a dead andburied business, and it can do no good to make it public property now. Iwarn you if it is, I will shoot myself through the head."

  Bart doubted if the colonel had the courage to carry out his threat, buthe temporized with the great man, got him to make enough admissions tosomewhat clear the situation, and the long discussion ended with theannouncement by Colonel Harrington that he "would go."

  In other words, he confessed that Baker, Bart's friend and the highestbidder for the mysterious express package, was a prisoner in his barn.

  In some way Lem Wacker had become aware of Baker's secret, whatever thatwas, and had helped the colonel in his efforts to suppress Baker andsecure possession of the package.

  Bart was shocked at this exhibition of cold-blooded villainy on the partof a representative member of the community, although he had never hadmuch use for the pompous, domineering old tyrant, who now led the waythrough the silent Streets of Pleasantville as meek as a lamb.

  He took Bart through the beautiful grounds of his sumptuous home, and toa windowless padlocked room in the loft of the stable.

  Poor Baker, his hands secured with stout pieces of wire, arose from astool with a gleam of hope on his pallid face as Bart followed thecolonel into the room.

  "See here, Baker--which isn't your name--but it will do--" said thecolonel at once, "things have turned your way. Your friend here, youngStirling, has got the whip-hand--I am cornered, and admit it. I want tomake a proposition to you, Stirling needn't hear it. When you havedecided, we will call him into the room again and he will see that youget 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 upthis matter as you think right. I am here to see that he does as hepromises."

  Bart stepped out of the room. There was a continuous hum of conversationfor nearly half an hour. Then the colonel opened the door.

  "I'm to go into the house to write out something Baker wants," heexplained. "Then I'll come back."

  "Very well," nodded Bart.

  He tried to engage Baker in conversation, but the latter, his hands freenow, paced the room nervously, acting like some caged animal.

  "I'm afraid of him!" he declared. "I don't know that I am doing what isbest. He's a bad man. He begs me to spare him for the sake of hisfamily."

  "Is this a matter where settlement will do any injustice to others?"asked Bart.

  "None, now--it is past that."

  "Then follow the dictates of your own judgment, Mr. Baker," directedBart, "being sure that you are acting with a clear conscience."

  Colonel Harrington, when he returned, brought two documents. Bakerlooked them over.

  "Are they satisfactory?" inquired the colonel anxiously.

  "Yes," answered Baker.

  "Now understand, there is to be no gossip about this affair?" insistedthe magnate.

  "I shan't talk," said Baker.

  "And I am to have that express package?"

  "Give it to him, Stirling."

  Bart took the mysterious unclaimed package from his pocket. ColonelHarrington seized it with a satisfied cry.

  "You have wronged myself and others deeply, Colonel Harrington," saidBaker in a grave, reproachful tone, "but you have made some amends. Iforgive you, and I hope you will be a better man."

  CHAPTER XXX

  "STILL HIGHER!"

  Bart Stirling was a proud and happy boy as he stood at the door of theexpress office looking down the tracks of the B. & M.

  A new spur was being constructed, and it divided to semi-inclose asubstantial foundation which was the start of the new and commodiousexpress office. The blue sky, smiling down on the busy scene, was nomore serene than the prospect which the future seemed to offer for thesuccessful young express agent.

  With his last reckless crime Lem Wacker had ceased to be a disturbingelement at Pleasantville. After two months' confinement he had limpedout of the hospital, out of town, and out of Bart Stirling's life.

  Colonel Jeptha Harrington himself had left town with the beginning ofwinter. It was said he intended to make an extended trip in Europe.

/>   With his departure, a new Mr. Baker seemed to spring into existence.Divested of his disguise, no longer a fear-filled roustabout fugitive,Bart's strange friend had found a steady, lucrative position at thehotel, and Bart felt that he had certainly been the means of doing somereal good in the world every time he looked at the happy, contented faceof his protege.

  Concerning all the details of Baker's past, Bart never knew the entiretruth.

  Baker felt, however, that it was due to his champion that he explain inthe main the mystery of his connection with Colonel Harrington, and hetold a strange story.

  It seemed that the purse-proud colonel had a poor brother living inanother State.

  This brother owned a farm on which there lived with him a man namedAdams, a widower, and his little daughter, Dorothy.

  Adams was a close friend of Samuel Harrington, and out of his earningssaved the place from being taken on a mortgage.

  Samuel Harrington always told Adams that he had made a will, and that incase of his sudden death the farm would go to him. He gave Adams aletter certifying to his having a claim of over three thousand dollarsagainst the property, which he told Adams to show to his rich brotherwhen he died, asserting that, although Colonel Harrington had shamefullyneglected him, he would never dishonorably repudiate a claim of thatkind.

  When Samuel Harrington died, his brother appeared, took possession ofthe farm as only heir, and cruelly drove Mr. Adams and his child fromthe place.

  He tore up the written statement Adams gave him, ridiculed his claims,and, no will being found, sold the place for a song and left Adams aninvalid pauper.

  Adams had done Baker, or, as his real name was, Albert Baker Mills, agreat service once.

  Baker, or Mills, supported Adams and his child for a year. Adams spentall his time bemoaning his fate, and haunted the old farm in a search ofthe will of Samuel Harrington.

  One day he did not appear, nor the following. Early on the morning ofthe third day he staggered into the house, weak and fainting. He wastaken down with a fever, was delirious for a week, and at the end ofthat time died.

  Just before his death he tried to tell something about the will. Bakermade out that he had found it, that it was at Pleasantville, nothingmore.

  After his friend's death, Baker wrote a letter to Colonel Harrington.He accused him of his dishonorable conduct, and threatened to publiclyexpose him if he did not provide in some way for the little orphan,Dorothy, for whom he had found a home with a poor relative.

  A week later Colonel Harrington sought out Baker, told him he hadtrumped up a charge against him that would land him in jail, which Bakerlater discovered was the truth, and gave him twenty-four hours to leavethe country.

  From that time the poor fellow was a fugitive, venturing to appear onlyin disguise at Pleasantville. Adams, it seemed, had found the will andhad sent it to Pleasantville addressed to himself, not daring to facethe colonel with the important document in his possession, but neverliving to carry out his plan.

  In the settlement with Colonel Harrington, Baker had received a letterexculpating him totally from the trumped up charge, and a check for fivethousand dollars, which money was now held in trust by a bank to providefor little Dorothy's future.

  Bart felt much gratified over the way all these tangled strands in thewarp and woof of his young life had been straightened out, but heexperienced a final blessing that filled him with unutterable joy andgratefulness.

  A week previous his father had returned from a month's treatment by acity expert oculist.

  Robert Stirling came back to Pleasantville a well man.

  That was a joyful night at the little Stirling home, when Mr. Stirlingonce again looked with restored sight upon the faces of the many friendswho respected and loved him.

  Mr. Stirling, while in the city, had been an invited guest at the homeof Mr. Leslie, and the express superintendent had learned a good dealmore about his devoted son than he had ever known before.

  "Come out of it!" hailed a jolly voice, and Bart was disturbed in hispleasant reverie by the appearance of Darry and Bob Haven.

  "It's settled!" cried the latter ecstatically?--"we're going into theregular business at last."

  "I don't quite catch on," returned Bart.

  "The printing and publishing business," put in Darry. "We have got themoney together for a nice little plant, and father and mother arewilling that we shall go ahead. Some day you'll see us running a regularnewspaper."

  "Well, I wish you good luck--you certainly deserve it," answered theyoung express agent, warmly.

  "There is only one drawback," resumed Bob. "We'll have to give uphelping you."

  "Don't let that bother you. I'll find somebody else. Say, it will befine to start a regular newspaper," went on Bart. "I guess you'd wakesome of the old-timers up--they are so moss-eaten. This town needs abright, up-to-date sheet."

  "We are going to push the printing and publishing business all we can,"answered Darry, earnestly. How he and his brother carried out theirproject I shall relate in another story, to be called, "Working Hard toWin." It was no light undertaking, but the boys entered into it with avigor that was bound to command success.

  "You see, father can help us a good deal," said Bob. "He used to be aneditor, you know. And more than that, mother can make us whateverpictures we may need."

  "Oh, you'll be right in it, I know," laughed Bart. "When you start yournewspaper put me down as the first subscriber. Your subscription moneyis ready whenever you want it."

  At that moment a messenger appeared.

  "Letter for you," said he to the young express agent, and hurried abouthis business.

  "From the express people," murmured Bart, tearing open the letter.

  As he perused it, such a quick, bright glow flashed into his face andeyes, that the watchful Darry at once surmised that Bart had received acommunication out of the ordinary.

  "Good news, Bart?" he inquired.

  "Read it," said Bart simply, and quick-witted Darry saw that he wasalmost too overcome to speak further.

  The letter was from Mr. Leslie the superintendent, and contained twoparagraphs.

  The first stated that from the fifteenth of the coming month Mr. RobertStirling would resume his position as express agent at Pleasantville,thenceforward made a "Class B" station, at a salary of seventy dollars amonth.

  The second paragraph requested Mr. Bart Stirling to report atheadquarters for assignment to duty at a city office as assistantmanager.

  Darry Haven reached out and caught the hand of his loyal friend in awarm, glad clasp.

  "Capital!" he cried enthusiastically--"in line with your motto, BartStirling--higher still!"

  THE END