_ CHAPTER XIV. PROFESSOR PUNJAB'S TRICK
"Well, I call that goin' some," spoke Mr. Post. "If you can do that just sitting still I wonder what you can do when you begin moving"
"A mere trifle," said Professor Punjab. "I will be pleased to give you a further evidence of my powers later on. But now I am fatigued. I have studied hard to-day on the great mystery of the future life, and I find I must take a little nourishment,--very little. A bit of cracker and a glass of water," and with that he went forward to the dining car.
"Yes, I'd just like to see him get along with a cracker and a glass of water," murmured Jack. "I'll bet corned beef and cabbage is more in his line."
"But how do you suppose he knew the train was going to stop?" asked Ned speaking aloud. "That looks queer."
"He's a wonder, that's what he is," said Mr. Post. "I want to see some more of him," and he got up to go back to the smoking compartment, leaving the three boys alone in the forward part of the car.
"Maybe he just made a guess at it," put in John Smith. "I've seen some of our Indian medicine men pretend to prophesy and it turned out they only made good guesses."
"Perhaps he did." Nat admitted.
Jack had moved over to the seat vacated by Professor Punjab. He pressed his face close to the window and looked ahead. As he did so he uttered an exclamation.
"Come here, John and Nat!" he said in a low tone. "This will explain how it was done."
The two boys took turns looking from the window.
"See it?" asked Jack.
"Sure!" they chorused.
"We were just rounding that curve," Jack went on. "He happened to look from the window and he saw the ties on the track. Any one could as the electric light from that freight station is right over them. He knew the engineer would stop in a hurry, and, sure enough, he did. It's easy when you know how, isn't it?"
"But it certainly was strange enough when he made that statement, and then to have the train slack up," spoke Nat. "I was beginning to believe that, maybe, after all, he had some strange power."
"He's a fakir clear through," was Jack's opinion. "You wait a bit and you'll see him try some trick on this miner. He's after his money."
"We ought to put a stop to that," said Nat, "Galloping greenbacks! But we don't want to see the man robbed, even if he isn't as nice and polite as he might be."
"And we'll not, either," remarked Jack. "We'll be on the lookout, and maybe we can make Professor Hemp Smith Punjab wish he hadn't traveled on this line."
The ties on the track were soon cleared away and the train resumed its journey. The porter came in to make up the berths, and while this was being done the three boys had to take seats in other sections of the car.
In the meanwhile Professor Punjab returned. He was picking his teeth as though he had dined more substantially than on a mere wafer and a sip of water.
"You boys going far?" he asked.
"Quite a way," replied Jack in a low voice. He was afraid the former experience the man had passed through might be recalled to him if he heard the voices of the students, and so did not use his natural tones.
But Professor Punjab did not seem at all suspicious. Besides he had never had a good look at the boys, and there was so much talking going on the time they played the trick on him it is doubtful if he remembered any one's voice.
"Where are you from?" the fakir asked next, but Jack was spared the necessity of replying by the return of Mr. Post from the smoking compartment.
"Well, well, Professor," the miner said, "that certainly was a slick trick of yours. Haven't any more of 'em up your sleeve, have you?"
"That was no trick," returned the "professor" in an injured tone. "I do not descend to tricks. If I am gifted with certain powers I must use them. I can not help myself. There is something within me--some spirit--that moves me. I saw that the train would have to stop and I had to announce it."
"You bet you saw it all right," muttered Jack. "So could any one else who had been sitting in your seat. It was easy."
"No offense, no offense, Professor," muttered Mr. Post, seeing he had made a mistake. "I'm much interested in this thing."
"I welcome real interest in my work," the fakir went on, "I will be happy to illustrate matters to you as far as my poor talents enable me to. You have perhaps heard of the celebrated Indian manifestation of making a plant grow in a few hours?"
"Not guilty," said Mr. Post solemnly.
"Then these young gentlemen have," the professor went on, turning to the three boys.
Jack nodded silently.
"It is a strange power that we mystics have over the forces of nature," the pretended philosopher went on. "We have but to plant a seed in the soil, and, lo! a plant bearing fruit shoots up."
"That would be a good thing to sell to farmers," said Mr. Post.
"It can not be sold. Only an adept can perform it," said Professor Punjab. "I would do it for you, only the conditions are not just right here. But I can, perhaps, show you something you probably never saw before."
With a flourish he drew from his pocket a large black handkerchief. This he shook to show there was nothing in it. He spread it over his extended left arm, which was crooked at the elbow. Then he placed his right hand under it, and brought out a large orange.
"Well I'll be blowed!" exclaimed Mr. Post.
"Ain't got any more of 'em there, have you, Professor?"
"There is only one," was the reply, as the man returned the handkerchief to his pocket and passed the orange to Mr. Post. "It is difficult to produce one, I assure you."
"Not when you have them concealed in your coat, where you probably put it when you were in the dining car," was Jack's comment, made to himself.
"Well you're a wonder," exclaimed the miner. "I'd like to take lessons off you."
"I can impart the secrets to only those of the inner circle," said the professor, with an air of great wisdom. "But I am allowed to show those who appreciate my doings some of the workings of my art. Perhaps you would like to see a little more of what I am able to do."
"I sure would," replied Mr. Post.
"What I am about to do," Professor Punjab went on, "is so remarkable that I am allowed to show it to but one person at a time. Therefore I invite you, Mr. Post, into the smoking compartment with me. Later I will be glad to show my young friends, one at a time."
"Not any for mine," muttered Jack, as the miner, who was much interested in what he had seen, followed the fakir to the compartment he had recently left.
"I wonder what he's up to," said Nat, when the two were out of hearing.
"Something crooked, on the professor's part, you can make up your mind," Jack answered.
"Let's find out what it is," suggested Nat.
"How?" inquired Jack.
"I think I can manage it," put in John Smith. "I have very good hearing, and I can move around easily. Suppose I go and hide near the compartment. Maybe I can hear what they say."
"Good!" exclaimed Jack. "Then you come back and tell us, and we'll see what we can do in the way of tricks."
John put on a pair of moccasins he had in his valise, and moved through the aisle, now completely hemmed in with the curtains from the various berths. The other boys began to undress within their narrow sections but they did not take off all their clothes, so as to be in readiness for whatever should happen.
Jack managed to get into an unoccupied berth next to the smoking compartment. By placing his ears to the partition he could just distinguish what the professor was saying to Mr. Post.
"Well, that's about the limit!" John exclaimed softly to himself. "I think we can spoil that proposition for him."
Having learned all he wanted to know, the Indian lad returned to his friends.
"Professor Punjab is planning to get possession of the miner's money," he said in whispers, as the three boys held an impromptu conference in the lavatory, where Nat and Jack had gone to clean their teeth before retiring.
"How's he going to do it?" asked Jack.
"He has told Mr. Post that he has the power of making money increase over night," John explained. "He says if a certain sum is put in a mysterious box which he has, it will be doubled in the morning."
"And the miner believed him?" asked Jack.
"Sure. He agreed to put his roll in the box the fakir has, and it is to be placed under Mr. Post's berth. He is not to open it until morning."
"And when he does it will be full of brown paper," said Jack. "I've read about such tricks."
"It won't if we can help it," put in Nat. "I guess here is where we get busy."
The boys held a further conference and agreed on a plan of action. They went back to their berths, and, a little later, they heard the fake professor and Mr. Post coming back from the smoking room.
"Do I put it at the head or foot?" they heard the miner ask.
"At the foot," replied the plotter.
"So he can get it easier," muttered Jack.
Nat's berth was right opposite that of Mr. Post, so it was arranged he was to do the main work. In a little while the sleeping car became a quiet place, and deep breathing from one berth after another told that the occupants were slumbering soundly. Pretty soon Nat heard a snore from the berth of the miner.
"I'd better do it now, before Professor Punjab gets busy," he thought.
Then with his umbrella, which had a crook for a handle, Nat reached out between the curtains and began to feel around under Mr. Post's bed for the box. He had to work cautiously, but at length his efforts were rewarded. He felt the umbrella crook fasten on the object, and he pulled it across the aisle toward him.
When it was near enough he reached his hand down and took it up into his berth.
"Have you got it?" asked Jack in a whisper from the next sleeping compartment.
"Sure," replied Nat
"Take out the money and put in our messages," Jack added, and Nat did so. Then he placed the box back where he had found it.
In a short time the three boys, who were watching from behind their berth-curtains, saw a hand protrude from beneath the hangings around Professor Punjab's bed. The hand felt around a bit, and then went under Mr. Post's berth. In a few seconds it came out and the box was in it. A moment later it moved back again, and seemed to replace the box.
"That's where he put a dummy in place of what he thinks is the one with the bills in," thought Nat, who was watching closely. "He'll skip out soon, I guess."
His conjecture was right. A few minutes later Professor Punjab, who had not undressed, stole from his berth and walked softly to the end of the car.
"I wonder if he'll jump off," thought Nat.
But the fakir had no such intentions. The train began to slacken speed, as he probably knew it would, having to stop at a station, which fact he could ascertain by consulting a time-table. The cars came to a halt, with a grinding noise of the brakes, and Nat leaned over toward the window of his berth.
He could see the station platform, and caught a glimpse of Professor Punjab as he jumped from the sleeper. Then, while the boy watched, the fakir opened the box he had in his hand.
All he pulled out were three cards, on which were written the names of the three boys.
"Fooled!" exclaimed Nat as the train started off leaving the professor, a picture of rage, on the platform. _