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Updated: May 1, 2025
Two minutes later Bart saw McCarthy hurriedly rounding a corner of the freight depot, and advanced towards him. The young express agent briefly and confidentially imparted to his old friend the fact that Lem Wacker had tried to steal some money from the express office, and had got his deserts at last.
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.
"I would like to have you explain," remarked Bart. "You've queered me!" roared Wacker, "and I'm going to have satisfaction yes, sir. Sat-is-fac-tion!" He pounded out the syllables under Bart's very nose with resounding thumps, bringing down his fist on the impromptu office desk so forcibly that the concussion disturbed the papers on it, and several sheets fell fluttering to the floor.
Wacker could not have so suddenly disappeared in any other direction. He crossed between bumpers, and glanced eagerly all around. There was no hiding-place nearer than the repair shops, and they were five hundred feet distant. Wacker could not possibly have reached their precincts in the limited space of time afforded since Bart had last lost sight of him.
If Bart got through in safety, they could assume that the hunt for the missing trunk was not very active, or had been started in some other direction. Bart had comprehended that they could take a short cut to the old mill. He had actually laughed to himself at the ease with which he had obtained possession of the trunk, until they had mentioned that ominous name: Lem Wacker.
"Eight," said Wacker calmly, striking a cigarette between his lips. "Ten." "Twelve." Baker was silent. A frightful spasm crossed his face. He swayed from side to side. Then, grasping at the bench rails to steady himself, he came up to the platform. "Stirling!" he panted hoarsely, "I have no more money, but I must must have that package! Lend me " "Whatever you wish," answered Bart promptly.
"What's the trouble, Stirling?" inquired Silas Green, as Bart stood silently thinking out the problem set before him. "You seem sort of disappointed to find Wacker here. If you didn't think he was here, why did you come inquiring for him?" "I knew he came here last night," said Bart. "Mrs. Wacker told me so." "Do you want to see him?" "No, I think not," answered Bart after a moment's reflection.
When old Professor Cunningham gave him the names Buck and Hank Tolliver, Bart was positive that the same covered the identity of the two men who had been at the Sharp Corner with Lem Wacker. Bart had started at once for Millville. His first intention was to get a conveyance at the livery stable, his first impulse to solicit the co-operation of the town police.
As he neared the "new" express shed, however, he passed around to its rear, and glancing out of a window there Bart saw that he had come to a halt, and was drawing a diagram of the tracks on a blank page in his memorandum book. Just as Mr. Leslie had returned this to his pocket and was about to start from the spot, a man hailed him. It was Lem Wacker.
Lem drove up with them in his rig about ten o'clock. They took the horse and wagon around to the side shed and came in, drank and talked a lot among themselves, and finally started playing cards in the little room yonder." "By themselves?" "Yes. Once, when I went in with refreshments, Wacker was in a terrible temper.
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