I believe I will ride to Pleasantville in the express car, so
your bees will be right under my eye till they are put on the city
express."
"Thank you, thank you," said the farmer heartily.
As the train whistled in the distance, he came up to Bart and slipped a
bank note in his hand.
Bart demurred, but it was no use. He found himself two dollars richer
for his accommodating proposition.
As the train drew up, Peter Pope rapped at the door of the express car.
A sleepy-eyed messenger opened it. The hives were shoved in. Bart made a
brief explanation to the messenger, showing his pass. He waved a
pleasant adieu to Pope and the farmer as the express car door was closed
and locked.
When Bart got home he was more than tired out. But he had done well and
in the end got full praise for his work.
A day passed, and Bart failed to find Baker. He hunted everywhere and
kept up the search until he knew not where to look further.
Bart went home. He had scarcely reached his bedroom when there was a
vigorous summons at the front door.
"I hope it is Baker," murmured Bart, as he slipped on the coat he had
just taken off.
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