tto 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.

"Come after something?" inquired the agent "I don't recall that there is
anything here for you."

"No, I want to express these hives," answered the farmer.

He indicated six boxes lying in his wagon, covered with gauze.

"Bother!" said Pope, a little crossly. "That's no midnight job. Why
don't you come in the daytime, Mr. Simms? You just caught me here by
chance, at this outlandish hour."

"Particular shipment," explained Simms, "and I've got to catch the
trains just right. You see, these are special imported Italian bees,
Breeders. I reckon every one of those beauties is worth half-a-dollar.
They're very delicate in this climate, and call for great care. I want
you to instruct the messenger to follow the directions carded on the
boxes."

"I can do that," said Pope. "What he will do, is another thing."

"You see," continued the farmer, "if they handle them carefully at
Pleasantville, and see that they catch the early express to the city
from there, someone will be waiting to take them in charge at the
terminus. I'd be awful glad to tip the messenger handsomely to have
someone at Pleasantville, where they transfer the hives, open the
ventilators for a spell and tip down into the pans some of the honey
syrup."

"I will do that for you, sir," spoke up Bart--"I am in charge of the
express office at Pleasantville. I am going on this train, and I will be
glad to see that your goods are attended to just right, and transferred
on time."