He instantly placed the express envelope in Martin's hands, slipping into the vestibule.
"Mr. Martin," he said, "it is necessary for you to verify the contents of this package. An accident happened to it, as you see."
Martin tore the envelope clear open, and glanced over fifteen bills of one thousand dollar denomination each.
"All right," he said gruffly.
"Will you sign this receipt?" asked Bart politely, tendering the slip of paper he had prepared at the office for this especial occasion. "Thank you," he added, as the pickle man scrawled a penciled signature at the bottom of the paper.
"I take this money," said Mr. Martin, looking up with a peculiar expression on his face, "because it is delivered by you, but I shall return it to Dunn & Son to-morrow."
"That is your business, Mr. Martin," said Bart politely.
"It is, and—something more! I call on you and your witnesses to notice that the fifteen thousand dollars was not delivered to me until six minutes after twelve, too late to make the tender legal, which makes the contract null and void."
Mr. Martin, with a triumphant sweep of his hand, pointed to a big clock at the end of the long hall.
"I beg your pardon," said Bart, holding up his watch, "but I keep official time, and it is exactly thirty seconds to midnight. Listen!"