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!"
Bart looked up a trifle startled at the sharp hail, ten minutes later.
He had been engrossed in his work and had not noticed an intruder.
Lem Wacker stood just in the doorway. He looked flushed, excited and
vicious.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Wacker?" inquired Bart calmly, though
scenting trouble in the air.
"You can undo!" flared out Wacker, "and you'll get quick action on it,
or I'll clean you out, bag and baggage."
"There isn't much baggage here to clean out," suggested Bart humorously,
"and as for the rest of it I'll try to take care of it myself."
"Oh! you will, will you?" sneered Lem, lurching to and fro. "You're a
sneak. Bart Stirling--a low, contemptible sneak, that's what you are!"
"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.
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