the debris aside. He was thus engaged when some trackmen, lounging the
day away over on a freight platform, sauntered up to the spot.

"Why don't you work holidays, Stirling?" asked one of them satirically.

"Somebody has got to work to get this mess in shipshape order," retorted
Bart. "The writing said what was true!" he spoke to himself, as his
pokings cleared a broad iron surface. "The safe door is shut."

The safe lay flat on its back where it had fallen when the floor had
burned away. It was an old-fashioned affair with a simple combination
attachment, and so far as Bart could make out had suffered no damage
beyond having its coat of lacquer and gilt lettering burned off.

He leaned over and felt of its surface, which retained scarcely any heat
now.

"We heard the old iron box was caught open by the fire and everything in
it burned up," spoke one of the trackmen.

"I supposed so myself," said Bart, "but it seems otherwise. I wonder how
heavy it is?"

"Wait till I get some tackle," said one of the workmen.

He went away and returned with two crowbars and a pulley and block
tackle.

It was no work at all for those stout, experienced fellows to get the
safe clear of the ruins, and, with the aid of a big truck they brought
from the freight house, convey it to the new express quarters.

Just as the town bell rang out four o'clock, Mr. Leslie stepped over the
threshold.

He glanced about the place briskly, gave a start as he noticed the heap
of account books at Bart's elbow, and looked both pleased and puzzled as
his eyes lighted on the safe.

"Why, Stirling!" he exclaimed, "are you a wizard?"

"Not quite," replied Bart with a smile, "but someone else seems to be."

"Are those the office books we thought burned up, and the safe?"

"Yes, sir."

"How is this?"

Bart told of the mysterious return of the books and of the scrap of
writing that had led him to dig up the safe.

"That's a pretty strange circumstance," observed Mr. Leslie
thoughtfully. "How do you account for it?"

"I can't," admitted Bart, "except to theorize, of course, that someone
had enough interest in myself or the company to rush into the burning
shed and save the books and close the safe while I was getting my father
to safety."

"That's rational, but who was it?" persisted Mr. Leslie.

"Whoever it was," said Bart, "he has certainly proved himself a good,
true friend."

"Have you no idea who it is?" challenged Mr. Leslie sharp