"STILL HIGHER!"
Bart Stirling was a proud and happy boy as he stood at the door of the
express office looking down the tracks of the B. & M.
A new spur was being constructed, and it divided to semi-inclose a
substantial foundation which was the start of the new and commodious
express office. The blue sky, smiling down on the busy scene, was no
more serene than the prospect which the future seemed to offer for the
successful young express agent.
With his last reckless crime Lem Wacker had ceased to be a disturbing
element at Pleasantville. After two months' confinement he had limped
out of the hospital, out of town, and out of Bart Stirling's life.
Colonel Jeptha Harrington himself had left town with the beginning of
winter. It was said he intended to make an extended trip in Europe.
With his departure, a new Mr. Baker seemed to spring into existence.
Divested of his disguise, no longer a fear-filled roustabout fugitive,
Bart's strange friend had found a steady, lucrative position at the
hotel, and Bart felt that he had certainly been the means of doing some
real good in the world every time he looked at the happy, contented face
of his protégé.
Concerning all the details of Baker's past, Bart never knew the entire
truth.
Baker felt, however, that it was due to his champion that he explain in
the main the mystery of his connection with Colonel Harrington, and he
told a strange story.
It seemed that the purse-proud colonel had a poor brother living in
another State.
This brother owned a farm on which there lived with him a man named
Adams, a widower, and his little daughter, Dorothy.
Adams was a close friend of Samuel Harrington, and out of his earnings
saved the place from being taken on a mortgage.
Samuel Harrington always told Adams that he had made a will, and that in
case of his sudden death the farm would go to him. He gave Adams a
letter certifying to his having a claim of over three thousand dollars
against the property, which he told Adams to show to his rich brother
when he died, asserting that, although Colonel Harrington had shamefully
neglected him, he would never dishonorably repudiate a claim of that
kind.
When Samuel Harrington died, his brother appeared, took possession of
the farm as only heir, and cruelly drove Mr. Adams and his child from
the place.
He tore up the written statement Adams gave him, ridiculed his claims,
and, no will being found, sold the place for a song and left Adams an
invalid pauper.
Adams had done Baker, or, as his real name was, Albert Baker Mills, a
great service once.
Baker, or Mills, supported Adams and his child for a year. Adams spent
all his time bemoaning his fate, and haunted the old farm in a search of
the will of Samuel Harrington.
One day he did not appear, nor the following. Early on the morning of
the third day he staggered into the house, weak and fainting. He was
taken down with a fever, was delirious for a week, and at the end of
that time died.
Just before his death he tried to tell something about the will. Baker
made out that he had found it, that it was at Pleasantville, nothing
more.
After his friend's death, Baker wrote a letter to Colonel Harrington.
He accused him of his dishonorable conduct, and threatened to publicly
expose him if he did not provide in some way for the little orphan,
Dorothy, for whom he had found a home with a poor relative.
A week later Colonel Harrington sought out Baker, told him he had
trumped up a charge against him that would land him in jail, which Baker
later discovered was the truth, and gave him twenty-four hours to leave
the country.
From that time the poor fellow was a fugitive, venturing to appear only
in disguise at Pleasantville. Adams, it seemed, had found the will and
had sent it to Pleasantville addressed to himself, not daring to face
the colonel with the important document in his possession, but never
living to carry out his plan.
In the settlement with Colonel Harrington, Baker had received a letter
exculpating him totally from the trumped up charge, and a check for five
thousand dollars, which money was now held in trust by a bank to provide
for little Dorothy's future.
Bart felt much gratified over the way all these tangled strands in the
warp and woof of his young life had been straightened out, but he
experienced a final blessing that filled him with unutterable joy and
gratefulness.
A week previous his father had returned from a month's treatment by a
city expert oculist.
Robert Stirling came back to Pleasantville a well man.
That was a joyful night at the little Stirling home, when Mr. Stirling
once again looked with restored sight upon the faces of the many friends
who respected and loved him.
Mr. Stirling, while in the city, had been an invited guest at the home
of Mr. Leslie, and the express superintendent had learned a good deal
more about his devoted son than he had ever known before.
"Come out of it!" hailed a jolly voice, and Bart was disturbed in his
pleasant reverie by the appearance of Darry and Bob Haven.
"It's settled!" cried the latter ecstatically?--"we're going into the
regular business at last."
"I don't quite catch on," returned Bart.
"The printing and publishing business," put in Darry. "We have got the
money together for a nice little plant, and father and mother are
willing that we shall go ahead. Some day you'll see us running a regular
newspaper."
"Well, I wish you good luck--you certainly deserve it," answered the
young express agent, warmly.
"There is only one drawback," resumed Bob. "We'll have to give up
helping you."
"Don't let that bother you. I'll find somebody else. Say, it will be
fine to start a regular newspaper," went on Bart. "I guess you'd wake
some of the old-timers up--they are so moss-eaten. This town needs a
bright, up-to-date sheet."
"We are going to push the printing and publishing business all we can,"
answered Darry, earnestly. How he and his brother carried out their
project I shall relate in another story, to be called, "Working Hard to
Win." It was no light undertaking, but the boys entered into it with a
vigor that was bound to command success.
"You see, father can help us a good deal," said Bob. "He used to be an
editor, you know. And more than that, mother can make us whatever
pictures we may need."
"Oh, you'll be right in it, I know," laughed Bart. "When you start your
newspaper put me down as the first subscriber. Your subscription money
is ready whenever you want it."
At that moment a messenger appeared.
"Letter for you," said he to the young express agent, and hurried about
his business.
"From the express people," murmured Bart, tearing open the letter.
As he perused it, such a quick, bright glow flashed into his face and
eyes, that the watchful Darry at once surmised that Bart had received a
communication out of the ordinary.
"Good news, Bart?" he inquired.
"Read it," said Bart simply, and quick-witted Darry saw that he was
almost too overcome to speak further.
The letter was from Mr. Leslie the superintendent, and contained two
paragraphs.
The first stated that from the fifteenth of the coming month Mr. Robert
Stirling would resume his position as express agent at Pleasantville,
thenceforward made a "Class B" station, at a salary of seventy dollars a
month.
The second paragraph requested Mr. Bart Stirling to report at
headquarters for assignment to duty at a city office as assistant
manager.
Darry Haven reached out and caught the hand of his loyal friend in a
warm, glad clasp.
"Capital!" he cried enthusiastically--"in line with your motto, Bart
Stirling--higher still!"
THE END
End of Project Gutenberg's Bart Stirling's Road to Success, by Allen Chapman