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Wilson, Harry Leon, 1867-1939

"Bunker Bean"

But this was
dismissed; there was no death! And the spectacle would excite comment.
The idea of an ambulance, which he next considered, seemed equally
impracticable. It would have to be done quietly; Balthasar would know.
Trust Balthasar!
He heard the rhythmic clump-clump of a horse's hoofs on the asphalt
pavement. This was presently accompanied by the sounds of wheels. An
express wagon came under the street-lights. Balthasar rode beside the
driver, his frock coat and glossy tall hat having been relinquished for
the garb of an ordinary citizen. Back of them in the wagon he could
distinguish the lines of an Object. It had come to him in a common
express wagon, in a common crate, and the driver did not even wear a
black mask. Balthasar had cunningly eluded detection by pretending there
was nothing to conceal.
He drew back from the window and with fast beating heart went to open
the door. They were already on the stairway. Balthasar was coming first.
With sublime effrontery he had impressed Cassidy to help carry It, and
Cassidy was warning the expressman to look out for that turn an' not
tear inta th' plashter.
It was lowered to the floor in the throne-room. Cassidy and the
expressman puffed freely and looked at the thing as if wondering how two
men had ever been equal to it.
"'Twould be brickybac," said Cassidy genially.
"That there hall's choked with dust," said the expressman with seeming
irrelevance.


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