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He stooped down and brought his light to bear upon the tag wired to the top of the crate. "Ravell Bulson, Jr., Owneyville, Illinois," he read aloud, making a note of it in his book. "Oh!" ejaculated Nan. "Oh!" repeated Bess. Then both together the chums gasped: "That fat man!" "Hullo!" observed the conductor, slipping the toggles out of the hasp, which kept the door of the dog crate closed.

A part of the money they had brought back from Scotland had already been used in fitting up a handsome showroom and garage on the main street of Tillbury; and some other heavy expenses had fallen upon Mr. Sherwood, for which he would, however, be recompensed by the sale of the first few cars. If Ravell Bulson injured Mr. Sherwood's business reputation by his wild charges, or if the company Mr.

"Do you girls know the owner of this pup? You seem to know everybody." "We know a Mr. Ravell Bulson by sight, Mr. Carter," Nan said quietly. "And he's just the meanest man!" began impulsive Bess; but her chum stopped her with a glance. "Well! Mr. Ravell Bulson, Jr., has a fine pup here," declared the conductor, releasing the agitated little creature.

Ravell Bulson had been to the automobile manufacturers with whom Mr. Sherwood had a tentative contract, and had threatened to sue Mr. Sherwood if he did not return to him, Bulson, his lost watch and chain and roll of bankbills, amounting to several hundred dollars. The automobile manufacturers had served notice on Mr.

Sherwood's trouble with Ravell Bulson. Mrs. Sherwood was very indignant about it, and so, of course, was Nan. A week or more before, Mr. Sherwood had had business in Chicago, and in returning took the midnight train. The sleeping car was side-tracked at Tillbury and when most of the passengers were gone the man in the berth under Mr. Sherwood's began to rave about having been robbed.

"You say your name is Bullhead " "Bulson!" roared the other. "Ravell Bulson. I own that milk." "So it is condensed milk in that box, Mr. Bulson?" here interposed Mr. Carter, the conductor. "Yes, it is," said Bulson, shortly. "I had business up near the Bancroft Creamery, and I stepped in there and bought a case of milk in glass, and shipped it home.

These facts Nan, at least, did not learn till later; she ran off to the skating rink, secure in the thought that her father's trouble with Mr. Ravell Bulson was over. She hoped she might never see that grouchy fat man again. But Fate had in store for her another meeting with the disagreeable Mr. Bulson, and this fell out in a most surprising way.

Ravell Bulson, without a doubt. "And about the negro?" he asked the girl. "Describe him." But all Jennie could say was that he was a big, burly fellow with a long, long nose. "An awfully long nose for a colored person," said Jennie. "He frightened me so, I don't remember much else about him and I'm no scare-cat, either. You ask any of the directors I have worked for during the past two years.

It was not until the great snow-plow and a special locomotive appeared the next morning, and towed the stalled train on to its destination, and Nan Sherwood and her chum arrived at Tillbury, that Nan learned anything more regarding Mr. Ravell Bulson. Mr. and Mrs. Sherwood had been more than a little worried by Nan's delay in getting home and Mr.

Look at Pop!" exclaimed the crippled boy, who seemed not to have been hurt at all in the accident. Mr. Ravell Bulson was trying to struggle out from under the cab. And to his credit he was not thinking of himself at this time. "How's Junior?" he gasped. "Are you hurt, Junior?" "No, Pop, I ain't hurt," said the boy with the braces. "But, Jingo! you do look funny."