Following the disappearance of the out-going passengers, a group of newcomers appeared at the farther car door.
“Here comes someone I know,” Jack observed. “The big man in front—Burke, a real estate agent.”
The tall, heavy-featured man passed them and took the seat immediately behind.
“He didn’t speak to you,” commented Alex.
“I’m glad he didn’t. He’s no friend; just knew him, I meant,” responded Jack. “He is a proper shark, they say. I know he practically did a widow out of a bit of property just back of ours.
“And here is another, same business, from the next town. And not much better,” Jack went on, as a short, bustling, sharp-featured man appeared.
The man behind them stood up and called, “Hi, there, Mitchell! Here!” The newcomer waved his hand, came forward quickly, and also dropped into the seat at the rear of the two boys.
“Nice pair of hawks,” said Jack. “I’ll bet they are hatching up something with a shady side to it. I’d be tempted to listen if I could.”
As the train was again under way, Jack had no opportunity of overhearing what was being said behind them. A few miles farther, however, they came once more to a stop, and almost immediately he pricked up his ears and nudged Alex.
“... don’t believe the ignorant dolt knows the real value of butter and eggs.” It was the deep voice of the bigger man, Burke. “He’s one of those queer ducks, without any friends. Lives there all by himself, doesn’t read the papers, and only comes to town about once a month. No; there’s not one chance in ten of his waking up and getting onto it.”