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"I am going to ask you a foolish question, perhaps, Professor," continued Bart, "for an accurate person like you of course took down only correct names, and not nicknames. Here is the gist of it, then. I am looking for two men, and I know only that they live outside of Pleasantville, and call themselves Buck and Hank." "Well! well! well!" muttered Professor Cunningham in a musing tone.

For a brief moment that gentleman fancied Pleasantville had awakened to a fitting sense of its obligation to him and that it was about to make amends for its churlish lack of hospitality. He rose from his chair, and with a splendid florid gesture, swept off his hat. "It's the pussy fellow!" cried a voice. "Oh, shut up don't you think I know him?" retorted the sheriff tartly.

It seemed to contain papers of some kind, and so many bidders had bought old deeds, contracts, plans, manuscripts and the like, utterly valueless to them, that the lot hung at twenty-five cents for several minutes. "Come, come, gentlemen!" urged Bart "the last may be the best. The charges are sixty-five cents. Sender's name not given. Directed to 'A.A. Adams, Pleasantville' not found." "Hoo!

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.

Every Washington's Birthday and Fourth of July since, this site had been the center of all public patriotic festivities, and the headquarters for celebrating for juvenile Pleasantville. Bart was a little startled as he comprehended what was in the wind. He thrilled a trifle; his eyes sparkled brightly. "It's all right, Stirling," assured Dale Wacker.

At half-past two Bart loaded the two ice cream freezers on the cart and started for the picnic grounds. Juvenile Pleasantville had somewhat subsided for a time in the fervor of its patriotism. There was a lull in the popping and banging, nearly everybody in town being due at the time-honored celebration in the picnic grove.

Stirling later learned that their recipient had expressed herself perfectly delighted with the delicate, beautiful gift, but, being a true lady, Bart's mother said nothing about the matter to those who would have been glad to spread a little gossip unfavorable to the dowdy society queen of Pleasantville.

Every live boy in Pleasantville was in evidence about the village pleasure grounds, the common and the hill. Group after group greeted Bart with excited exclamations. He was a general favorite with the small boys, always ready to assist or advise them, and an acknowledged leader with those of his own age.

There were in the party seven persons, the chauffeur of the car that had taken them from the station, William Flynn, three state troopers, one Federal secret service man and a policeman from Pleasantville, who had taken the place of the New York policeman when their train arrived at the local station.

Two state troopers and one member of the Pleasantville police force had been on guard outside the house when the explosion occurred. The house was at the end of a quiet residential street. Beyond the house there was a patch of wooded ground which cut off the view from a state road running to Tarrytown, about a hundred yards deep.