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.
"A telegram, Bart," said his mother, at the bottom of the stairs.
She had receipted for it. Bart tore it open wonderingly, glancing first at the signature, and marveling at its unusual length. It was signed by Robert Leslie, superintendent of the express company, at the city end of the line.
This is what it said:
"Special II. 256 by afternoon express, for Martin & Company, Pleasantville, contains fifteen thousand dollars in cash, sender Dunn & Son, Importers. They ask me to make a special delivery, and will defray any extra cost for having it accepted personally by A.B. Martin, and receipted for by him in the presence of witnesses. Delivery to be legal, must be made before twelve, midnight, and this certified to. This is a very important matter for one of the company's largest customers. Be sure to make delivery on time."
Bart read the telegram over twice, taking in its important details, with a serious face.