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Wilson, Harry Leon, 1867-1939

"Bunker Bean"


Yet it would be done, some time.
There was a vigorous knock at the door. All was discovered!
The crime of assault at the dark corner had been traced to his door.
Balthasar had betrayed him. The Egyptian authorities had discovered
their loss. The thing was there. He was caught red-handed.
He reached the door and cautiously opened it an inch. Cassidy stood
there, armed with a hatchet. They would use violence!
"Hatchet!" said Cassidy, genially extending the weapon. He wiped his
mouth with the back of his hand. The aroma of beer stole into the room.
"F'r brox brickybac!" insinuated Cassidy.
"Thanks!" said Bean, accepting the tool.
"We kem frum th' sem county, Mayo, him an' me," volunteered Cassidy.
"G'night!"
Once more Bean faced the crate. It must be done at once. Discovery was
too probable. Gingerly he forced the blade under one of the boards and
pried. The nails screeched horribly as they were withdrawn. The task was
simple enough; the crate was a flimsy affair to have withstood so
difficult a journey. But after each board was removed he peered to the
street from behind the closed blind, half expecting to find policemen
drawn to the spot.
A smoothly packed layer of excelsior greeted his eyes. It was rather
reassuring. He felt that he might be unpacking any casual object.
Exposed at last was the wooden case that enveloped him!
Awestruck, he looked down at it for a long time.


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