-"

Bart lost the remainder of Mr. Lem Wacker's proposition, for Mr. Leslie
had started forward impatiently, with Lem persistently following in his
wake. He was still keeping up the pursuit and importuning the affronted
official as both were lost to view behind a track of freights.

Bart of course surmised that Lem Wacker was on the trail of the "better
job" he had announced he was after to the old switchman, Evans.

"I don't think he has made a very promising impression," decided Bart,
as he got back to his writing.

"Say, you!"

Bart looked up a trifle startled at the sharp hail, ten minutes later.
He had been engrossed in his work and had not noticed an intruder.

Lem Wacker stood just in the doorway. He looked flushed, excited and
vicious.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Wacker?" inquired Bart calmly, though
scenting trouble in the air.

"You can undo!" flared out Wacker, "and you'll get quick action on it,
or I'll clean you out, bag and baggage."

"There isn't much baggage here to clean out," suggested Bart humorously,
"and as for the rest of it I'll try to take care of it myself."

"Oh! you will, will you?" sneered Lem, lurching to and fro. "You're a
sneak. Bart Stirling--a low, contemptible sneak, that's what you are!"

"I would like to have you explain," remarked Bart.

"You've queered me!" roared Wacker, "and I'm going to have
satisfaction--yes, sir. Sat-is-fac-tion!"

He pounded out the syllables under Bart's very nose with resounding
thumps, bringing down his fist on the impromptu office desk so forcibly
that the concussion disturbed the papers on it, and several sheets fell
fluttering to the floor.

Bart's patience was tried. His eyes flashed, but he stooped and picked
up the pages and replaced them on the dry goods box.

"Don't you do that again," he warned in a strained tone.

"Why!" yelled Wacker, rolling up his cuffs.

"I'll trim you next! 'Don't-do-it-again!' eh? Boo! bah!"

Lem raised his foot and kicked over the desk, papers and all.

"That's express company property," observed Bart quietly, but his blood
was up, the limit reached. "Get out!"

One arm shot forward, and the clenched muscular fist rested directly
under the chin of the astounded Lem Wacker.

"And stay out."

Lem Wacker felt a smart whack, went whirling back over the threshold,
and the next instant measured his length, sprawling on the ground
outside of the express shed.

CHAPTER VII

WAITING FOR TROUBLE