Martin of the pickle factory, he had sent Darry and Bob Haven back to bed, and had forthwith returned to the express office.

Colonel Harrington, scared-looking and sullen, was still there. He seemed to have met his match in the young express agent, and dared not defy him.

Bart found McCarthy, the night watchman, on guard outside, who told him that they had got Lem Wacker clear of the b.u.mpers, had carried him into the 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 lay with his foot bandaged up, conscious, and in no intense pain, for the surgeon had given him some deadening medicine.

"He belongs at the hospital," the surgeon advised Bart. "That foot will have 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 present condition, but something has got to be understood before you leave this place. You go to the hospital as a prisoner or as a patient, just as you elect."

"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 of me will take care of me or I'll explode a bomb that will shatter Pleasantville 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 do you want?"

"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!"

hoa.r.s.ely 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.

He tried to engage Baker in conversation, but the latter, his hands free now, 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 is best. He's a bad man. He begs me to spare him for the sake of his family."

"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," directed Bart, "being sure that you are acting with a clear conscience."

Colonel Harrington, when he returned, brought two doc.u.ments. Baker looked them over.

"Are they satisfactory?" inquired the colonel anxiously.

"Yes," answered Baker.

"Now understand, there is to be no gossip about this affair?" insisted the 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. Colonel Harrington seized it with a satisfied cry.

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