r, muttering direfully under his breath, was about to slam
down the window.

"Wait one moment, Mr. Martin," called up Bart sharply. "This is a
special delivery, and a very important matter. I tender you this package
in the presence of these witnesses, and it is a legal delivery. If you
decline to come down and take it, and I leave it on your doorstep at the
call of the first tramp who happens to come along, I have done my duty,
and the loss is yours--a matter of fifteen thousand dollars."

"What! what!" shouted Martin.

"That is the amount."

"From--Dunn & Son?"

"I guess that's right," said Bart. "Will you come down and take it?"

Martin did not reply. He disappeared from the window, but left it open.
Bart heard him muttering to himself.

"Supposing he doesn't come down?" questioned Bob, in a whisper.

"I think he will," said Bart. "Eleven forty-eight. Mr. Martin," he
called out loudly, "I can't wait here all night."

"Shut up!" retorted an angry voice--"I'm hurrying all I can."

"He isn't!" spoke Darry, in a low tone to Bart. "He's on to the
business, and playing for time."

"And he's beat us!" breathed Bob--"hear there! twelve o'clock. Your
delivery is no good, Bart! It's just struck a new day!"

"S--sh!" warned Bart, as a clock inside the house rang out twelve
silvery strokes. "The clock is wrong. We've got five minutes and a half
yet."

In about two minutes a light flashed in the hall, the front door was
unlocked, and Martin appeared, half-dressed. Bart relievedly put up his
watch. It was just three minutes of twelve.

He instantly placed the express envelope in Martin's hands, slipping
into the vestibule.

"Mr. Martin," he said, "it is necessary for you to verify the contents
of this package. An accident happened to it, as you see."

Martin tore the envelope clear open, and glanced over fifteen bills of
one thousand dollar denomination each.

"All right," he said gruffly.

"Will you sign this receipt?" asked Bart politely, tendering the slip of
paper he had prepared at the office for this especial occasion. "Thank
you," he added, as the pickle man scrawled a penciled signature at the
bottom of the paper.

"I take this money," said Mr. Martin, looking up with a peculiar
expression on his face, "because it is delivered by you, but I shall
return it to Dunn & Son to-morrow."

"That is your business, Mr. Martin," said Bart politely.

"It is, and--something more! I call on you and your witnes