"Better put the women and the children in the Pullman," suggested the
baggage-man.
"Can't. Their tickets don't call for first-class accommodations," said
the conductor, stubbornly, "and none of them wants to pay the difference
in tariff."
"You've got your hands full, Carter," said the express messenger.
"How about the case of milk?" and he dragged a box into the middle of
the floor.
"Say! you fellows let that case alone," exclaimed an unpleasant voice.
"That's mine. You the conductor? I have been hunting all over for you."
Nan and Bess had both turned, startled, when this speech began. It came
from the fat man whom they had seen asleep in the smoking car. And, now
that his face was revealed, the chums recognized Mr. Ravell Bulson, the
man who had spoken so harshly of Nan's father the day of the collision on
Pendragon Hill.
"Say! this is the expressman, I guess," pursued Mr. Bulson. "You're the
man I really want to see. You'll see my name on that box--'R. Bulson,
Owneyville, Illinois.' That's me. And I want to open that box and get
something out of it."
CHAPTER VIII
SI SNUBBINS DROPS IN
"Do let's get out of here before he sees us," whispered Nan to her chum.
"No, I won't," returned Bess, in the same tone. "I want to hear how it
comes out.
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