. Harrington was apprised
of her loss.

"You can tell Mrs. Harrington that everything possible is being done to
recover the trunk," Bart told the man as he drove off. "Now then, Mr.
McCarthy," he continued, turning to his companion, "I am going to ask
you to take charge here till I return. I will pay you a full day's
wages, even if you have to stay only an hour."

"You'll pay me nothing!" declared the watchman vigorously. "I'll camp
right in your service as soon as the seven o'clock whistle blows, and
you get on the trail of that missing trunk."

"I intend to," said Bart. "I will get Darry Haven to come down here. He
knows the office routine. In the meantime, we had better not say much
about the burglary."

"Are you going on a hunt for Lem Wacker?"

"I am."

Bart went first to the Haven home. He found Darry Haven chopping wood,
told him of the burglary, and asked him to get down to the express
office as soon as he could.

"If you don't come back by nine o'clock, I will arrange to stay all
day," promised Darry.

Then Bart went to the house where Lem Wacker lived. It was
characteristic of its proprietor--ricketty, disorderly, the yard unkept
and grown over with weeds.

Smoke was coming out of the chimney. Someone was evidently astir
within, but the shades were down, and Bart stole around to the rear.

The shed doors were open, and the wagon gone and the horse's stall
vacant.

Bart went to the back door of the house and knocked, and in a few
minutes it was opened by a thin-faced, slatternly-looking woman.

Bart knew who she was, and she apparently knew him, though they had
never spoken together before. The woman's face looked interested, and
then worried.

"Good morning, Mrs. Wacker," said Bart, courteously lifting his cap.
"Could I see Mr. Wacker for a moment?"

"He isn't at home."

"Oh! went away early? I suppose, though, he will be back soon."

"No, he hasn't been home all night," responded the woman in a dreary,
listless tone. "You work at the railroad, don't you? Have they sent for
Lem? He said he was expecting a job there--we need it bad enough!"

She glanced dejectedly about the wretched kitchen as she spoke, and Bart
felt truly sorry for her.

"I have no word of any work," announced Bart, "but I wish to see Mr.
Wacker very much on private business." When did he leave home?

"Last night at ten o'clock."

"With his horse and wagon?"

"Why, yes," admitted the woman, with a sudden, wonderin