The conductor jumped off and ran up to the station agent, and while the
latter was busy explaining the situation Bart hammered on the door of
the express car.
"Why it's Stirling!" cried old Ben Travers, the veteran express
messenger, sliding back the door.
"You're right, Mr. Travers," assented Bart. "Here's a special and
urgent. Get it aboard before the conductor comes up and jumps all over
me for stopping the train."
Travers popped down in a lively fashion. They hoisted the trunk together
and sent it spinning into the car.
"Cedar Lake, make a sure delivery, Mr. Travers," directed Bart. "Here,
put your manifesto on that receipt, will you?" and Bart drew the slip of
paper he had written on in the depot from his pocket.
The conductor, a pompous, self-contained old fellow, started towards
Bart to haul him over the coals, but Bart wisely walked farther down the
platform, the conductor gave the go-ahead signal and shook his fist
sternly at Bart, while the latter with a gay, relieved laugh waved him
back a cheery, courteous good-by.
Bart told the station agent a very little about the history of the
trunk. He left a dollar to pay for the broken hand car lock.
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