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Updated: May 1, 2025
Dale Wacker came upon the scene not limping, but chuckling and winking to the cronies at his back. "Pretty good aim, eh, fellows?" he gloated. "Stirling, you're a capital gunner." All eyes were now turned in a new direction in that whither the muzzle of the cannon was pointed. The grounds of the Harrington mansion were the scene of a vivid commotion.
Bart knew who she was, and she apparently knew him, though they had never spoken together before. The woman's face looked interested, and then worried. "Good morning, Mrs. Wacker," said Bart, courteously lifting his cap. "Could I see Mr. Wacker for a moment?" "He isn't at home." "Oh! went away early? I suppose, though, he will be back soon."
"Twenty dollars once, twenty dollars twice " "Stop!" yelled Lem Wacker. "Do you bid more?" asked Bart. "I I do!" "How much?" "Double treble if I have to!" retorted Wacker. "Only I want you to wait until I can get the cash. I have only sixteen dollars with me I can get a hundred and sixty in two minutes, I " "Terms strictly cash," said Bart simply. "Going, going, at twenty dollars " "Hold on!
He was still keeping up the pursuit and importuning the affronted official as both were lost to view behind a track of freights. Bart of course surmised that Lem Wacker was on the trail of the "better job" he had announced he was after to the old switchman, Evans. "I don't think he has made a very promising impression," decided Bart, as he got back to his writing. "Say, you!"
It seemed he had lost all his money, and he had staked his rig and lost that, too. One of the two men laughed at him, and rallied him, remarking he would have 'his share, whatever that meant, in a day or two, and then they would meet again and give him his revenge. By the way, I'm off in my story Wacker did leave here, about eleven o'clock." "Alone?" "Yes.
Lem Wacker flushed and winced, for the pointed question struck home. "I don't want no mistering!" he growled. "Lem's good enough for me. And I don't take no call-down from any stuck-up kid, I want you to understand that." "You'd better get to the crossing if you're making any pretense of real work," suggested Bart just then.
Just such a valley spread out beyond the barrier as on the other edge of the hill whence Bart had seen the man he believed to be Lem Wacker. Here, however, the landscape was barren in the extreme. There was not a house visible. Bart was in a dilemma, but he decided how he would act. He first ran back to the spot whence he had last viewed the break in the woods.
"Charge me with the balance," said Bart quickly to his assistant, in a low tone. "You've no right!" raved Lem Wacker loudly, shaking his fist at Bart, and in a passion of uncontrollable rage. "You'll suffer for this! I protest against this sale I demand that you do not deliver that package, you young snob! you " Lem Wacker was getting abusive. He pranced about like a mad bull.
Darry Haven dropped the cover of the cash box, and also stared at Wacker. There was something suggestive in the sensation of the moment. Lem Wacker's face was as bold as brass.
Bart flared a match once, and uttered the single word: "Caught." Lem Wacker was clinging to the upright brake rod, and swaying there. His face was bloodless and he was writhing with pain. One foot was clamped tight, a crushed, jellied mass between two bumpers. It seemed that his foot must have slipped just as the forward freights were switched down. This had caused that frenzied yell.
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