Mr. Wingate paused. Captain Sol was impatient.
“Go on,” he said. “Don't stop now, I'm gettin' anxious.”
Barzilla rose to his feet. “Here's your McKay man back again,” he said. “Let's go up to your house and have breakfast. We can talk while we're eatin'. I'm empty as a poorhouse boarder's pocketbook.”
CHAPTER VI
AVIATION AND AVARICE
Breakfast at Capt. Sol Berry's was a bountiful meal. The depot master employed a middle-aged woman who came in each day, cooked his meals and did the housework, returning to her own home at night. After Mr. Wingate had mowed a clean swath through ham and eggs, cornbread and coffee, and had reached the cooky and doughnut stage, he condescended to speak further concerning the stolen paper.
“Well,” he said, “Brown give me and Jonadab a serious talkin' to when he got us alone.”
“'Now, fellers,' he says, 'we know what we've got to do. Nothin'll be too good for this shebang and us if we get that agreement back. Fust place, the thing was done a few minutes after the supper-bell rung. That is, unless that 'Enry is in on the deal, which ain't unlikely, considerin' the price he could get from the Gordon gang. Was anybody late at the tables?'
“Why, yes; there were quite a few late. Two of the 'gunners,' who'd been on a forlorn-hope duck hunt; and a minister and his wife, out walkin' for their health; and Parker and two fellers from the football team, who'd been practicin'.