Jack Ranger's Western Trip Part 21

The boys had taken pa.s.sage in a through sleeper to Chicago, and got their meals in the dining car ahead. They had supper in Scranton, where the train waited about half an hour to connect with another. As the boys came back to their seats in the sleeper, which had not yet been made up, they saw several new pa.s.sengers.

One was a tall, rather rough looking man, who seemed to have suddenly acquired wealth. His clothes were good but did not fit him well, and he seemed ill at ease in them. There was a big diamond in his shirt front, and he had a heavy gold chain across his vest.

"Guess I'm ent.i.tled to the best that's goin'," he said in a loud tone as he sat in one seat and put his big feet up in the one opposite.

"I've paid for this whole section an' I'm going to use it. I ain't worked hard all my life for nothing. Just sold my share in a coal mine," he said to the boys, whose seats were near his. "Now I'm going to enjoy myself. Going to the 'Windy City'! that's what I am. Got friends in Chicago that'll be glad to see me an' my pile," and he pulled out a big role of bills. "My name's Josh Post, an I'm set in my ways," he added.

The boys did not make any answer, but, at the sound of the big man's voice a pa.s.senger in the seat ahead of him turned and looked to see who was speaking. As he did so the former mine owner happened to be displaying his money, and the eyes of the other pa.s.senger gleamed in a dangerous sort of way.

As he turned around to get a glimpse of the miner, Jack got a look at the face of the pa.s.senger who had shown such curiosity. The boy started. "Where have I seen him before?" he thought to himself. "I can't seem to place him." Then he leaned over and whispered to Nat.

"Make an excuse to go to the end of the car, and on your way back take a look at the man in the first seat."

"All right," said Nat, who did not ask the reason. A little later he sauntered to the water cooler. He could hardly repress a start as he pa.s.sed the man Jack had mentioned.

"Know him?" asked Jack, when his chum had regained his seat.

"Sure, in spite of his disguise, his new way of wearing his hair, and the fact that he has shaved off his moustache."

"Marinello Booghoobally?" asked Jack, in low tones.

"Otherwise known as Hemp Smith," whispered Jack. "I wonder what he's up to now."

"I shouldn't be surprised if he would like to annex the roll of one Mr. Josh Post," observed Nat. "We'd better keep our eyes pealed. Put John next to the game."

Thereupon the Indian student was told the story of the man who had posed as an Oriental mystic and a professor of whatever he thought he could delude people into believing, as it suited his fancy, and netted him cash.

"We certainly got the best of him in the haunted house affair," said Jack. "Guess the professor won't tackle another job like that in hurry," and he silently laughed as he thought of the trick (told of in the first volume) the students played on the fakir when a phonograph was used to produce ghostly noises.

"Yes, sir, I'm out for a good time," said Mr. Post, as if some one had doubted his word. "Where you boys going?"

"Out west," replied Jack, thinking it would do no harm to reply civilly to Mr. Post.

"Excuse me for coming into this conversation," spoke Marinello Booghoobally, otherwise Hemp Smith. "I'm going out west myself, and if I can do anything to help you boys or you, Mr. Post, I'll be only too glad to do so."

"Help yourself to our money and his too, I guess," murmured Jack.

"Well now, that's kind of you, stranger," said Mr. Post, who seemed ready to accept any one as a friend. "What might your name be?"

"It might be almost anything I guess," muttered Nat. "Let's hear what he says. I wonder how he got here, anyhow."

"I'm Professor Punjab," replied Hemp Smith. "As you can understand by my name I am from East India, but I have been here so long I have acquired some of the habits."

"Most of the bad ones," said Jack, under his breath.

"What do you work at?" asked Mr. Post.

"Work? I do not work," replied the fakir. "I am what you might call a mind reader, a mystic, a foreteller of future events."

"Ain't no mesmerizer, are you?" asked Mr. Post.

"Yes, I can do that also," replied Professor Punjab. "Shall I give you a sample?"

"I'd rather have you give me a sample of your fortune telling," said the miner. "What's going to happen now?"

Professor Punjab seemed to go into a deep thought trance. Then he gave a sudden start.

"The train is going to stop quickly because there is an obstruction on the track!" he exclaimed.

An instant later, to the surprise of the boys, no less than Mr. Post, there was a quick application of the air brakes, so much so that the pa.s.sengers were nearly thrown from their seats. Then with a grinding and shrieking the train came to a stop.

"What did I tell you?" inquired Professor Punjab.

"Well I'll be horn-swoggled!" exclaimed Mr. Post.

"What's the matter?" asked several travelers.

The boys had hurried to the front of the car. They were met by a brakeman.

"Don't be alarmed," he said. "There is no danger."

"What was the trouble?" asked Jack.

"There was some obstruction on the track, a couple of ties, I believe, that fell from a pa.s.sing flat car," the brakeman explained.

"The engineer saw it and stopped just in time."

Professor Punjab pulled a book from his pocket and began to read, as if prophesying that trains would suddenly stop was the most natural thing in the world.

CHAPTER XIV

PROFESSOR PUNJAB'S TRICK

"Well, I call that goin' some," spoke Mr. Post. "If you can do that just sitting still I wonder what you can do when you begin moving"

"A mere trifle," said Professor Punjab. "I will be pleased to give you a further evidence of my powers later on. But now I am fatigued.

I have studied hard to-day on the great mystery of the future life, and I find I must take a little nourishment,--very little. A bit of cracker and a gla.s.s of water," and with that he went forward to the dining car.

"Yes, I'd just like to see him get along with a cracker and a gla.s.s of water," murmured Jack. "I'll bet corned beef and cabbage is more in his line."

"But how do you suppose he knew the train was going to stop?" asked Ned speaking aloud. "That looks queer."

"He's a wonder, that's what he is," said Mr. Post. "I want to see some more of him," and he got up to go back to the smoking compartment, leaving the three boys alone in the forward part of the car.

"Maybe he just made a guess at it," put in John Smith. "I've seen some of our Indian medicine men pretend to prophesy and it turned out they only made good guesses."

"Perhaps he did." Nat admitted.