into Summerfield's ear. "But why the deuce they want me along is the hardest thing to understand."
"We'll see later on," the other returned. "We're close to Bluffton now, and when we're there the secret will come out."
A half dozen houses, a station about the size of a bandbox, and a water tank comprised the settlement of Bluffton. Ruthven, peering from the car as they slowed to a halt, could also see a number of stock pens. The place was a cattle-shipping point, it seemed. Barely had the extra stopped when Durfee made for the door. "All out!" he called.
The five in the way car tumbled from the forward platform. Seventeen was waiting just ahead. Some of the passengers were stretching their legs in the vicinity of the station and good-naturedly putting up with the delay. Others, who had close connections to make at a point farther on, were not so good-natured. The fireman of Seventeen's engine was on the ground and calmly using an oil cam The engineer leaned against one of the big drivers and watched curiously while the conductor hurried to meet the division superintendent.
"What's all the trouble, Mr. Durfee?" asked the conductor.
"Nothing that concerns you, Leason," Durfee answered, making his way toward the express car. The side door of this car was open, and the messenger stood within it. "Our business is here," added Durfee, and climbed up with a helping hand from the messenger.
Harrington followed, and he turned to beckon imperatively to Long, Ruthven, and Summerfield.
"You've got a prepaid parcel for Thomas Barton, consignees Long & McKenzie, Burt City," said the traveling agent. "Let's see it, Billings. Careful with it!" he cautioned.
Billings was careful with the package and careful to conceal his surprise. "Here it is," said he, and offered the Barton shipment.
With evident apprehension, Harrington took the package in his hands. Almost instantly his face cleared of worry. "I guess this is a case of all cry and no wool, Durfee," said he, in evident relief. "We're hornswoggled. If this weighs more than six pounds, I'll eat it."
"Pshaw!" grunted Durfee, as he took the package. "No ten pounds there." He drew a hand across his forehead. "I reckon we're safe," he added.
A howl of wrath came from Long. "Is this what you snatched me away from The Emporium for? That golbinged package again! Say, this joke has gone far enough."
CHAPTER VI.
CHANGING HIS PLANS.
LONG'S angry remarks passed unheeded. Harrington turned to Summerfield. "Is that the package that passed through your office?" he asked.
"Yes," the agent answered.
"You are absolutely positive, are you?"
"Yes."
"How about you, Mr. Ruthven? Tell me: Would you declare, under oath, that that package is the one which you and Summerfield found to weigh nine pounds, and then six?"
Ruthven took the package in his own hands, and found the penciled mark he had placed on it for identification.
"I'm positive it is the same package," he declared.
"Mr. Long, what have you to say?"
"This thing makes me mighty tired," was the disgusted response. "That's all I've got to say. Nobody seems to have any horse sense. It was bad enough to have Summerfield go off the jump, but to have the foolishness spread the way it has is enough to make a man ashamed of the human race. That's
