They are
easily got--it's a common, ordinary lock."
Bart's lips shut close. He went outside, looked keenly around, and
jumped down from the platform.
The watchman trailed out after him, watching him in a worried,
discouraged way. There was no doubting the word of a trusted employee
like McCarthy, and Bart realized that he felt very badly over the
matter.
"What is it, Stirling--have you found anything?" asked the watchman
eagerly, as Bart, after inspecting the roadway, still more narrowly
regarded the edges of the platform boards, running his finger over them
in a critical way.
"Yes, I have," announced Bart--"that trunk was taken away from here in a
wagon."
"How do you know?"
"Look at those fresh wheel tracks," directed Bart, pointing to the road.
"They sided a wagon up to the platform, right here. So close, that a
wheel or the body of the wagon scraped along the edges of the boards.
The paint was fresh. And it was bright red," added Bart.
"You're a good one to guess that out," muttered the watchman. "Why,
say--"
McCarthy gave a prodigious start and put his hand up to his head, as if
some idea had occurred to him with tremendous force.
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