It was an old-fashioned affair with a simple combination
attachment, and so far as Bart could make out had suffered no damage
beyond having its coat of lacquer and gilt lettering burned off.
He leaned over and felt of its surface, which retained scarcely any heat
now.
"We heard the old iron box was caught open by the fire and everything in
it burned up," spoke one of the trackmen.
"I supposed so myself," said Bart, "but it seems otherwise. I wonder how
heavy it is?"
"Wait till I get some tackle," said one of the workmen.
He went away and returned with two crowbars and a pulley and block
tackle.
It was no work at all for those stout, experienced fellows to get the
safe clear of the ruins, and, with the aid of a big truck they brought
from the freight house, convey it to the new express quarters.
Just as the town bell rang out four o'clock, Mr. Leslie stepped over the
threshold.
He glanced about the place briskly, gave a start as he noticed the heap
of account books at Bart's elbow, and looked both pleased and puzzled as
his eyes lighted on the safe.
"Why, Stirling!" he exclaimed, "are you a wizard?"
"Not quite," replied Bart with a smile, "but someone else seems to be.
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