He was passing through the last sleeper, when a man emerged from behind the heavy curtains of a berth and bent over a hand-bag which rested in the aisle. The man’s back was toward Frank, but a single glance showed our hero that the individual was Gabe Flecker. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XXIX A SCENE ON THE TRAIN “GABE FLECKER, by all that is wonderful!” murmured the young book agent to himself. He was about to accost the fellow, but suddenly changed his mind, and passed on to the dining car without letting the rascal catch sight of his face. “When will this train make the next stop?” he asked of a train hand. The man consulted his watch. “In about two hours and a half.” “Thank you.” Frank sat down to his breakfast in a corner of the dining car. He had scarcely begun eating when Gabe Flecker came in, accompanied by a man who looked to be a Southern planter. The pair went to the table next to the one our hero occupied, and Flecker sat down with his back directly behind that of the young book agent. “Yes, Mr. Lee, this real-estate deal will make you a rich man,” Frank heard Flecker remark, during the course of the meal. “It is really one chance out of a hundred.” “You are certain that the property is free and clear?” questioned the planter. “Perfectly clear, sir—I’ll give you my personal guarantee.” “And you are authorized to sell the land for eight thousand dollars?” “That’s the figure—providing I can get a customer this week. You see, the family need ready money, otherwise they would hold out for ten or fifteen thousand dollars. It’s a snap—the biggest snap I ever heard of,” went on Gabe Flecker, glibly. “It is certainly a low figure,” replied Mr. Lee. “Colonel Moss wanted to buy the place three years ago, and they asked sixteen thousand dollars.” “Then you will take the property?” “I reckon I will. I’ll think it over first, though.” “You had better make a deposit and close the bargain. If you don’t I’ll have to offer it to somebody else.” “I see.” The planter stroked his beard for a moment. “Well, I reckon after all I’ll take it. I’ve always wanted the place.” “And you will make a deposit now, to bind the bargain?” “How much of a deposit?” Gabe Flecker hesitated. In his mind he was wondering how much the old planter had with him. “I was told to get a deposit of a thousand dollars if I could,” he said, slowly. “I have only four hundred and fifty dollars with me, Mr. Wardell.” “Then I’ll take that. Of course you’ll be prepared to pay the balance by a week from to-day?” “Yes—as soon as I can get a clear deed. But I can’t let you have more than four hundred. I must keep some money for traveling expenses.” “All right; I’ll take the four hundred dollars,” said Gabe Flecker, quickly. “I’ll write you out a receipt at once. I don’t generally do business when I am eating, but I’ll make an exception this time.”