BROUGHT TO TIME
"I'll go!" said Colonel Jeptha Harrington, magnate of Pleasantville.
"All right," said Bart Stirling, express company agent.
It was three o'clock in the morning, and the scene was the little
express office where so many unusual and exciting happenings had
transpired within twenty-four hours.
The colonel's announcement was given in the tone of a man facing a hard
proposition and forced to accept it--or something worse.
Bart's reply was calm and off-handed. During a two hours' siege with the
military man he had never lost his temper or his wits, and had come off
the victor.
When Bart had concluded his very creditable piece of business with Mr.
Martin of the pickle factory, he had sent Darry and Bob Haven back to
bed, and had forthwith returned to the express office.
Colonel Harrington, scared-looking and sullen, was still there. He
seemed to have met his match in the young express agent, and dared not
defy him.
Bart found McCarthy, the night watchman, on guard outside, who told him
that they had got Lem Wacker clear of the bumpers, had carried him into
the express office, made up a rude litter, and had sent for a surgeon.
The latter had just concluded his labors as Bart entered. Lem Wacker lay
with his foot bandaged up, conscious, and in no intense pain, for the
surgeon had given him some deadening medicine.
"He belongs at the hospital," the surgeon advised Bart. "That foot will
have to come off."
"As bad as that!" murmured Bart.
"Yes. I will telephone for the ambulance when I leave here."
"Very well," acquiesced Bart. "Can I speak with the patient?"
"If he will speak with you. 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. "I won't say a word. Let Harrington
do as he pleases. He's the king bee! Only, just this, Harrington, you
take care of me or I'll blow the whole business."
"Yes, yes," stammered the colonel in a mean, servile way, approaching
the litter, "leave it all to me, Wacker. Don't raise a row, Stirling,"
he pleaded piteously, "don't have him arrested, I'll foot the bill, I'll
square everything. This matter must be hushed--yes, yes, hushed up!"
hoarsely groaned the military man. "Oh, its dreadful, dreadful!"
Bart felt that he had matters in strong control, spoke a word to
McCarthy and, when the ambulance came, allowed them to take Lem Wacker
to the hospital.
Then he and Colonel Harrington were alone. The latter was in a pitiable
condition of fear and humiliation.
"See here, Stirling," he said finally, "I'll confess the truth. I've
done wrong. There's a paper in that package that would mean disgrace for
me if it was made public. I'll own to that, but it's over a dead and
buried business, and it can do no good to make it public property now. I
warn you if it is, I will shoot myself through the head."
Bart doubted if the colonel had the courage to carry out his threat, but
he temporized with the great man, got him to make enough admissions to
somewhat clear the situation, and the long discussion ended with the
announcement by Colonel Harrington that he "would go."
In other words, he confessed that Baker, Bart's friend and the highest
bidder for the mysterious express package, was a prisoner in his barn.
In some way Lem Wacker had become aware of Baker's secret, whatever that
was, and had helped the colonel in his efforts to suppress Baker and
secure possession of the package.
Bart was shocked at this exhibition of cold-blooded villainy on the part
of a representative member of the community, although he had never had
much use for the pompous, domineering old tyrant, who now led the way
through the silent Streets of Pleasantville as meek as a lamb.
He took Bart through the beautiful grounds of his sumptuous home, and to
a windowless padlocked room in the loft of the stable.
Poor Baker, his hands secured with stout pieces of wire, arose from a
stool with a gleam of hope on his pallid face as Bart followed the
colonel into the room.
"See here, Baker--which isn't your name--but it will do--" said the
colonel at once, "things have turned your way. Your friend here, young
Stirling, has got the whip-hand--I am cornered, and admit it. I want to
make a proposition to you, Stirling needn't hear it. When you have
decided, we will call him into the room again and he will see that you
get your rights. Is that satisfactory?"
"What shall I do?" asked Baker of Bart.
"Hear what Colonel Harrington has to say. If it suits you, settle up
this matter as you think right. I am here to see that he does as he
promises."
Bart stepped out of the room. There was a continuous hum of conversation
for nearly half an hour. Then the colonel opened the door.
"I'm to go into the house to write out something Baker wants," he
explained. "Then I'll come back."
"Very well," nodded Bart.
He tried to engage Baker in conversation, but the latter, his hands free
now, paced the room nervously, acting like some caged animal.
"I'm afraid of him!" he declared. "I don't know that I am doing what is
best. He's a bad man. He begs me to spare him for the sake of his
family."
"Is this a matter where settlement will do any injustice to others?"
asked Bart.
"None, now--it is past that."
"Then follow the dictates of your own judgment, Mr. Baker," directed
Bart, "being sure that you are acting with a clear conscience."
Colonel Harrington, when he returned, brought two documents. Baker
looked them over.
"Are they satisfactory?" inquired the colonel anxiously.
"Yes," answered Baker.
"Now understand, there is to be no gossip about this affair?" insisted
the magnate.
"I shan't talk," said Baker.
"And I am to have that express package?"
"Give it to him, Stirling."
Bart took the mysterious unclaimed package from his pocket. Colonel
Harrington seized it with a satisfied cry.
"You have wronged myself and others deeply, Colonel Harrington," said
Baker in a grave, reproachful tone, "but you have made some amends. I
forgive you, and I hope you will be a better man."