He
found Cardysville to be a place of about 2,000 inhabitants. Most of the
town, however, lay half-a-mile away from the B. & M. Railroad, another
line cutting in farther north.
Bart noticed crowds of people and a circus tent in the distance. The
express shed was a gloomy little den of a place on a spur track. Near
the depot was a small lunch counter. Bart got something to eat, and
strolled down the tracks.
As he drew near to the express shed, Bart noticed an old armchair out on
its platform.
A very stout man in his shirt sleeves sat in this, smoking a pipe.
He got up and waddled around restlessly. Bart noticed that he approached
the door of the express office on tiptoe. He acted scared, for, bending
his ear to listen, he retreated precipitately. Then he stood
stock-still, staring stupidly at the building.
He gave a nervous start as Bart came up behind him--quite a jump, in
fact. Bart, studying his flabby, uneasy face, wondered what was the
matter with the man.
"Hello!" jerked out the Cardysville express agent. "Sort of startled
me."
"Are you Mr. Pope?" inquired Bart.
"Yes, that's me," assented the other.
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