He pranced about like a mad bull.
A heavy hand dropped suddenly on his collar, McCarthy, the watchman,
gave him a shove towards the door.
"No talk of that kind allowed here," he remarked grimly. "Get out, or
I'll fire you out!"
As Wacker disappeared through the doorway, Bart leaned from the
platform.
"Here is your package, Mr. Baker," he said. "What is the trouble--are
you ill?"
Baker struggled to his feet. He was in a pitiable state of agitation and
nervousness.
"No! no!" he panted, "you keep the package--for a time. Till--till I
explain. I've got it! I've got it at last!" he quavered in an exultant
tone. "Air--I'm choking! I--I'll be back soon--"
He rushed to the door overcome, like a man on the verge of a fit.
Bart started to follow him. Just then, however, one of the recent
bidders came up to ask some question about a purchase which required
that Bart consult the record book.
When he had disposed of the matter, Bart hurried to the outside. Baker
was nowhere in sight.
CHAPTER XXV
A NIGHT MESSAGE
The crowd had melted away, Bob Haven was totally engrossed with the
magnificent prize he had drawn, and Darry was busily engaged in closing
up the records of the sale.
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