Bart Stirling's Road to Success Part 32

Bart looked him over in some wonder. He was a short, wiry man, and arrayed in a close-fitting costume resembling that of the circus athlete on duty.

The man was drenched with perspiration and so nearly exhausted with his suffocating imprisonment, that his voice was rasping and hollow.

He was weak, too. As he stepped over the side of the trunk he staggered feebly. Then, making out an open window and a pail of drinking water on a bench near it, he made a swift dive in that direction.

First the man stuck his head out of the window and drew in great draughts of pure, fresh air.

Then he seized the tin cup near the pail. He dipped up the water and drank cupful after cupful until Bart eyed him in some alarm.

"Ah--h!" breathed the man in a long aspiration of relief and enjoyment, "that's better. Say, ten minutes more and there would have been no Professor Rigoletto."

As he spoke he went back to the trunk. He took out a long gossamer rain coat that had been used as a pillow. This he proceeded to put on.

It came to his feet. He b.u.t.toned it up, drew a jaunty crush cap from one of its pockets, and grinned pleasantly into the face of the petrified Peter Pope.

"See here!" blurted out the Cardysville express agent, "this isn't--isn't regular. It isn't schedule, you know."

"I hope not--sincerely," airily retorted the stranger. "Fifty miles on a slow train, three hours waiting in a close trunk. Ah, no. But I've arrived. Ha, ha, that's so!"

He glanced into the trunk. Its bottom seemed covered with some coa.r.s.e burlap. Professor Rigoletto threw shut the cover.

"Aha!" he said suddenly, bending his ear as a strain of distant circus music floated on the air. "Show on, I'll be late. I'll call later--"

"No, you don't!" interrupted Pope, recovering from his fright, and placing his bulky form in the doorway.

"Don't what, my friend?" mildly asked the Professor.

"Deadhead--beat the express company. You're one trunk--and excess weight."

"I don't dispute it. What, then?"

"Pay," promptly and definitely announced the agent.

"Can't. Haven't a cent. That's why I had to get a friend to ship me this way. But he said he'd wire ahead to my partner with the circus, who would call for me here. I'll go and find him, and settle the bill."

"You don't leave here until those charges are paid. You want to be rapid, too," declared Pope, "or I'll see if the railroad company don't want to collect fare, as well."

"Want to keep me here, eh?" murmured the Professor thoughtfully. "Well, I'm agreeable, only you'll have to feed and bed me. If I'm live stock, I demand live-stock privileges, see?"

The express agent looked worried.

"What am I to do?" he asked, in a quandary, of Bart.

"Oh," smiled Bart, "I guess you had better trust him to find his friend and come back with the money."

"I'll hold the trunk, anyway," observed Pope. "What have you got in it?

Some old worthless togs, I suppose."

"Mistake--about a thousand dollars in value," coolly retorted the Professor.

"Yes, you have! I thought so. Some old burlap."

"Careful, my friend!" spoke the deadhead sharply. "There's nothing there that you will care to see."

"Isn't there? I'll investigate, just the same," declared Pope, throwing back the trunk cover and delving in the heap of burlap. "Murder! Help!"

Peter Pope uttered a fearful yell. He backed from the trunk suddenly, A sinuous, hissing form had risen up before his face.

This was an enormous cobra, and, under the circ.u.mstances, very frightful to see. The Cardysville express agent made a headlong bolt for the door.

He slid clear outside across the platform, and landed in the mud of the road.

"Prt! prt! Caesar, so--so!" spoke Professor Rigoletto in a peculiar, purring tone, approaching the serpent.

He coaxed and forced the big snake back into its warm coverings, and shut down the trunk cover and clasped it. Bart, highly edified at the unique incident, followed him outside.

"I'm the Cingalese snake-charmer," explained Professor Rigoletto.

"Sorry, my friend," he observed to the wry-faced Pope, who was busy sc.r.a.ping the mud from his clothing, "but I told you so."

"Ugh!" shuddered the agent. "You get that trunk out of here double-quick, or I'll have you arrested."

"Sure, I will," answered the Professor with alacrity, "and I promise you that I will bring or send you the express charges by the time the show is over."

Professor Rigoletto dragged the trunk to the platform. It was not a heavy burden, now. Bart good-humoredly a.s.sisted him in getting it balanced properly on his shoulder. The professor courteously thanked him and asked him to come and see the show free, and marched off quite contented with the result of his daring deadhead experiment.

The Cardysville express agent was greatly worked up over the incident of the hour. It was some time before he could get his mind sufficiently calmed down to discuss business affairs coherently.

Bart, however, handled the man in a pleasant, politic manner, and soon had results working.

He let Peter Pope imagine that he was the originator of every idea that he, Bart himself, suggested. He very deftly introduced the system in vogue at the Pleasantville express office.

In fact, at the end of two hours Bart had accomplished all he had been sent to do. He had got Pope's records into sensible shape, had opened a small set of books for him, and knew that the inspector must be pleased with the results.

Bart had missed the early afternoon train. There was no other running to Pleasantville direct until eleven o'clock that night.

He had planned to put in the time strolling about town, when Professor Rigoletto appeared. He was accompanied by a friend.

The latter ascertained the express charges on the trunk, paid them, and handed both Bart and Pope a free ticket to the evening's entertainment.

Bart took a stroll by himself, got his supper at a neat little restaurant, and met Pope as agreed at the door of the main show tent at seven o'clock.

They were given good seats, and they had the pleasure of seeing Professor Rigoletto and his big snake under more agreeable conditions than those of their first introduction to them.

The show was a very good one, and at half-past ten they left the tent.

The Cardysville express agent accompanied Bart to the depot, where the east bound train was due to arrive in thirty minutes.

As they walked up and down the platform, a horse and wagon drove up to the little express shed. Pope went over to it. Bart accompanied him.

The driver of the wagon was a brisk, smart-looking farmery individual.

Pope knew him, and nodded to him in a friendly fashion.