He's an ugly, ungrateful mortal!"
Bart went over to the side of the prostrate man.
"Mr. Wacker," he said, "I do not wish to trouble you in your present
condition, but something has got to be understood before you leave this
place. You go to the hospital as a prisoner or as a patient, just as you
elect."
"Pile it on! pile it on!" growled Wacker. "You've got the upper hand,
and you'll squeeze me, I suppose. All the same, those who stand back of
me will take care of me or I'll explode a bomb that will shatter
Pleasantville to pieces!"
Colonel Harrington shuddered at this palpable allusion to himself.
"And I'm going to sue the railroad company for my smashed foot. What do
you want?"
"This, Mr. Wacker," pursued Bart quietly, "you have to-night committed a
crime that means State's prison for ten years if I make the complaint."
"I'll have a partner in it, all the same!" remarked Wacker grimly.
The colonel groaned.
"You were after a package that belongs to a friend of mine," continued
Bart. "I want to know why, and I want to know what you have done with
that person."
"Don't you torture me!" cried Wacker irritably--"don't you let him," he
blared out to the quacking magnate.
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