As he stood trying to keep his charge on his feet, a cab rushed across
the tracks. Its driver, bluff Bill Carey, nodded familiarly to Bart, and
looked the colonel over critically. He got the latter into the cab in an
experienced way.
"Same old complaint!" he intimated to Bart with a wink. "Drinks pretty
heavily."
Bart leaned over into the cab.
"Colonel Harrington," he said, "do you wish to be driven home?"
The colonel gave him a fishy stare, groaned and put out a wavering hand.
"Come," he mumbled.
"Jump in," directed Carey. "You'll be useful explaining the 'fall' up at
the house!"
As they went on their way, the young express agent experienced a
striking sensation.
A topsy-turvy day of excitement was ending with the peculiar combination
of his riding in the same carriage with his most bitter enemy, and
acting the good Samaritan.
They proceeded slowly, or rather cautiously, for the popping and banging
had recommenced all over town.
Carey had to keep the spirited horses in strong check as they passed
groups of boys, reckless of the quantity of firecrackers they
deliberately fired off as the team neared them.
Pages:
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76