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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/8073-0.txt b/8073-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b306ade --- /dev/null +++ b/8073-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4289 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Fool For Love, by Francis Lynde + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Fool For Love + +Author: Francis Lynde + +Release Date: May, 2005 [EBook #8073] +Posting Date: July 28, 2009 +Last Updated: March 16, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FOOL FOR LOVE *** + + + + +Produced by Ketaki Chhabra and Wendy Crockett + + + + + +A FOOL FOR LOVE + + +By Francis Lynde + +Author of “The Grafters,” “The Master of Appleby,” etc. + + +CONTENTS + + I In Which We Take Passage on the Limited + II In Which an Engine is Switched + III In Which an Itinerary is Changed + IV The Crystalline Altitudes + V The Landslide + VI The Rajah Gives an Order + VII The Majesty of the Law + VIII The Greeks Bringing Gifts + IX The Block Signal + X Spiked Switches + XI The Right of Way + + + + + +I. IN WHICH WE TAKE PASSAGE ON THE LIMITED + + +It was a December morning,--the Missouri December of mild temperatures +and saturated skies,--and the Chicago and Alton's fast train, dripping +from the rush through the wet night, had steamed briskly to its +terminal track in the Union Station at Kansas City. + +Two men, one smoking a short pipe and the other snapping the ash from +a scented cigarette, stood aloof from the hurrying throngs on the +platform, looking on with the measured interest of those who are in +a melee but not of it. + +“More delay,” said the cigarettist, glancing at his watch. “We are +over an hour late now. Do we get any of it back on the run to Denver?” + +The pipe-smoker shook his head. + +“Hardly, I should say. The Limited is a pretty heavy train to pick +up lost time. But it won't make any particular difference. The western +connections all wait for the Limited, and we shall reach the seat +of war to-morrow night, according to the Boston itinerary.” + +Mr. Morton P. Adams flung away the unburned half of his cigarette +and masked a yawn behind his hand. + +“It's no end of a bore, Winton, and that is the plain, unlacquered +fact,” he protested. “I think the governor owes me something. I +worried through the Tech because he insisted that I should have a +profession; and now I am going in for field work with you in a howling +winter wilderness because he insists on a practical demonstration. +I shall ossify out there in those mountains. It's written in the +book.” + +“Humph! it's too bad about you,” said the other ironically. He was +a fit figure of a man, clean-cut and vigorous, from the steadfast +outlook of the gray eyes and the firm, smooth-shaven jaw to the square +fingertips of the strong hands, and his smile was of good-natured +contempt. “As you say, it is an outrage on filial complaisance. All +the same, with the right-of-way fight in prospect, Quartz Creek Canyon +may not prove to be such a valley of dry bones as--Look out, there!” + +The shifting-engine had cut a car from the rear of the lately-arrived +Alton, and was sending it down the outbound track to a coupling with +the Transcontinental Limited. Adams stepped back and let it miss him +by a hand's-breadth, and as the car was passing, Winton read the name +on the paneling. + +“The Rosemary: somebody's twenty-ton private outfit. That cooks our +last chance of making up any lost time between this and tomorrow--” + +He broke off abruptly. On the square rear observation platform of +the private car were three ladies. One of them was small and +blue-eyed, with wavy little puffs of snowy hair peeping out under +her dainty widow's cap. Another was small and blue-eyed, with wavy +masses of flaxen hair caught up from a face which might have served +as a model for the most exquisite bisque figure that ever came out +of France. But Winton saw only the third. + +She was taller than either of her companions--tall and straight and +lithe; a charming embodiment of health and strength and beauty: +clear-skinned, brown-eyed--a very goddess fresh from the bath, in +Winton's instant summing up of her, and her crown of red-gold hair +helped out the simile. + +Now, thus far in his thirty-year pilgrimage John Winton, man and +boy, had lived the intense life of a working hermit, so far as the +social gods and goddesses were concerned. Yet he had a pang--of +disappointment or pointless jealousy, or something akin to both--when +Adams lifted his hat to this particular goddess, was rewarded by a +little cry of recognition, and stepped up to the platform to be +presented to the elder and younger Bisques. + +So, as we say, Winton turned and walked away as one left out, feeling +one moment as though he had been defrauded of a natural right, and +deriding himself the next, as a sensible man should. After a bit he +was able to laugh at the “sudden attack,” as he phrased it, but later, +when he and Adams were settled for the day-long run in the Denver +sleeper, and the Limited was clanking out over the switches, he +brought the talk around with a carefully assumed air of lack-interest +to the party in the private car. + +“She is a friend of yours, then?” he said, when Adams had taken the +baited hook open-eyed. + +The Technologian modified the assumption. + +“Not quite in your sense of the word, I fancy. I met her a number +of times at the houses of mutual friends in Boston. She was studying +at the Conservatory.” + +“But she isn't a Bostonian,” said Winton confidently. + +“Miss Virginia?--hardly. She is a Carteret of the Carterets; +Virginia-born-bred-and-named. Stunning girl, isn't she?” + +“No,” said Winton shortly, resenting the slang for no reason that +he could have set forth in words. + +Adams lighted another of the scented villainies, and his clean-shaven +face wrinkled itself in a slow smile. + +“Which means that she has winged you at sight, I suppose, as she does +most men.” Then he added calmly, “It's no go.” + +“What is 'no go'?” + +Adams laughed unfeelingly, and puffed away at his cigarette. + +“You remind me of the fable about the head-hiding ostrich. Didn't +I see you staring at her as if you were about to have a fit? But it +is just as I tell you: it's no go. She isn't the marrying kind. If +you knew her, she'd be nice to you till she got a good chance to flay +you alive--” + +“Break it off!” growled Winton. + +“Presently. As I was saying, she would miss the chance of marrying +the best man in the world for the sake of taking a rise out of him. +Moreover, she comes of old Cavalier stock with an English earldom +at the back of it, and she is inordinately proud of the fact; while +you--er--you've given me to understand that you are a man of the +people, haven't you?” + +Winton nodded absently. It was one of his minor fads to ignore his +lineage, which ran decently back to a Colonial governor on his +father's side, and to assert that he did not know his grandfather's +middle name--which was accounted for by the very simple fact that +the elder Winton had no middle name. + +“Well, that settles it definitely,” was the Bostonian's comment. +“Miss Carteret is of the _sang azur_. The man who marries her will +have to know his grandfather's middle name--and a good bit more +besides.” + +Winton's laugh was mockingly good-natured. + +“You have missed your calling by something more than a hair's-breadth, +Morty. You should have been a novelist. Give you a spike and a +cross-tie and you'd infer a whole railroad. But you pique my +curiosity. Where are these American royalties of yours going in the +Rosemary?” + +“To California. The car belongs to Mr. Somerville Darrah, who is +vice-president and manager in fact of the Colorado and Grand River +road: the 'Rajah,' they call him. He is a relative of the Carterets, +and the party is on its way to spend the winter on the Pacific coast.” + +“And the little lady in the widow's cap: is she Miss Carteret's +mother?” + +“Miss Bessie Carteret's mother and Miss Virginia's aunt. She is the +chaperon of the party.” + +Winton was silent while the Limited was roaring through a village +on the Kansas side of the river. When he spoke again it was not of +the Carterets; it was of the Carterets' kinsman and host. + +“I have heard somewhat of the Rajah,” he said half-musingly. “In +fact, I know him, by sight. He is what the magazinists are fond of +calling an 'industry colonel,' a born leader who has fought his way +to the front. If the Quartz Creek row is anything more than a stiff +bluff on the part of the C. G. R. it will be quite as well for us +if Mr. Somerville Darrah is safely at the other side of the +continent--and well out of ordinary reach of the wires.” + +Adams came to attention with a half-hearted attempt to galvanize an +interest in the business affair. + +“Tell me more about this mysterious jangle we are heading for,” he +rejoined. “Have I enlisted for a soldier when I thought I was only +going into peaceful exile as assistant engineer of construction on +the Utah Short Line?” + +“That remains to be seen.” Winton took a leaf from his pocket +memorandum and drew a rough outline map. “Here is Denver, and here +is Carbonate,” he explained. “At present the Utah is running into +Carbonate this way over the rails of the C. G. R. on a joint track +agreement which either line may terminate by giving six months' +notice of its intention to the other. Got that?” + +“To have and to hold,” said Adams. “Go on.” + +“Well, on the first day of September the C. G. R. people gave the +Utah management notice to quit.” + +“They are bloated monopolists,” said Adams sententiously. “Still I +don't see why there should be any scrapping over the line in Quartz +Creek Canyon.” + +“No? You are not up in monopolistic methods. In six months from +September first the Utah people will be shut out of Carbonate +business, which is all that keeps that part of their line alive. +If they want a share of that traffic after March first, they will +have to have a road of their own to carry it over.” + +“Precisely,” said Adams, stifling a yawn. “They are building one, +aren't they?” + +“Trying to,” Winton amended. “But, unfortunately, the only practicable +route through the mountains is up Quartz Creek Canyon, and the canyon +is already occupied by a branch line of the Colorado and Grand River.” + +“Still I don't see why there should be any scrap.” + +“Don't you? If the Rajah's road can keep the new line out of Carbonate +till the six months have expired, it will have a monopoly of all the +carrying trade of the camp. By consequence it can force every shipper +in the district to make iron-clad contracts, so that when the Utah +line is finally completed it won't be able to secure any freight for +a year, at least.” + +“Oho! that's the game, is it? I begin to savvy the burro: that's the +proper phrase, isn't it? And what are our chances?” + +“We have about one in a hundred, as near as I could make out from +Mr. Callowell's statement of the case. The C. G. R. people are moving +heaven and earth to obstruct us in the canyon. If they can delay the +work a little longer, the weather will do the rest. With the first +heavy snow in the mountains, which usually comes long before this, +the Utah will have to put up its tools and wait till next summer.” + +Adams lighted another cigarette. + +“Pardon me if I seem inquisitive,” he said, “but for the life of me +I can't understand what these obstructionists can do. Of course, they +can't use force.” + +Winton's smile was grim. “Can't they? Wait till you get on the ground. +But the first move was peaceable enough. They got an injunction from +the courts restraining the new line from encroaching on their right +of way.” + +“Which was a thing that nobody wanted to do,” said Adams, between +inhalations. + +“Which was a thing the Utah _had_ to do,” corrected Winton. “The +canyon is a narrow gorge--a mere slit in parts of it. That is where +they have us.” + +“Oh, well,” returned Adams, “I suppose we took an appeal and asked +to have the injunction set aside?” + +“We did, promptly; and that is the present status of the fight. The +appeal decision has not yet been handed down; and in the meantime +we go on building railroad, incurring all the penalties for contempt +of court with every shovelful of earth moved. Do you still think you +will be in danger of ossifying?” + +Adams let the question rest while he asked one of his own. + +“How do you come to be mixed up in it, Jack? A week ago some one +told me you were going to South America to build a railroad in the +Andes. What switched you?” + +Winton shook his head. “Fate, I guess; that and a wire from President +Callowell of the Utah offering me this. Chief of Construction Evarts, +in charge of the work in Quartz Creek Canyon, said what you said a +few minutes ago--that he had not hired out for a soldier. He resigned, +and I'm taking his berth.” + +Adams rose and buttoned his coat. + +“By all of which it seems that we two are in for a good bit more +than the ossifying exile,” he remarked. And then: “I am going back +into the Rosemary to pay my respects to Miss Virginia Carteret. Won't +you come along?” + +“No,” said Winton, more shortly than the invitation warranted; and +the other went his way alone. + + + + +II. IN WHICH AN ENGINE IS SWITCHED + + +“'Scuse me, sah; private cyah, sah.” + +It was the porter's challenge in the vestibule of the Rosemary. Adams +found a card. + +“Take that to Miss Carteret--Miss Virginia Carteret,” he directed, and +waited till the man came back with his welcome. + +The extension table in the open rear third of the private car was +closed to its smallest dimensions, and the movable furnishings were +disposed about the compartment to make it a comfortable lounging room. + +Mrs. Carteret was propped among the cushions of a divan with a book. +Her daughter occupied the undivided half of a tete-a-tete chair with +a blond athlete in a clerical coat and a reversed collar. Miss +Virginia was sitting alone at a window, but she rose and came to greet +the visitor. + +“How good of you to take pity on us!” she said, giving him her hand. +Then she put him at one with the others: “Aunt Martha you have met; +also Cousin Bessie. Let me present you to Mr. Calvert: Cousin Billy, +this is Mr. Adams, who is responsible in a way for many of my +Boston-learned gaucheries.” + +Aunt Martha closed the book on her finger. “My dear Virginia!” she +protested in mild deprecation; and Adams laughed and shook hands with +the Reverend William Calvert and made Virginia's peace all in the same +breath. + +“Don't apologize for Miss Virginia, Mrs. Carteret. We were very good +friends in Boston, chiefly, I think, because I never objected when she +wanted to--er--to take a rise out of me.” Then to Virginia: “I hope I +don't intrude?” + +“Not in the least. Didn't I just say you were good to come? Uncle +Somerville tells us we are passing through the famous Golden +Belt,--whatever that may be,--and recommends an easy-chair and a +window. But I haven't seen anything but stubble-fields--dismally wet +stubble-fields at that. Won't you sit down and help me watch them go +by?” + +Adams placed a chair for her and found one for himself. + +“'Uncle Somerville'--am I to have the pleasure of meeting Mr. +Somerville Darrah?” + +Miss Virginia's laugh was non-committal. + +“_Quien sabe_?” she queried, airing her one Westernism before she was +fairly in the longitude of it. “Uncle Somerville is a law unto +himself. He had a lot of telegrams and things at Kansas City, and he +is locked in his den with Mr. Jastrow, dictating answers by the +dozen, I suppose.” + +“Oh, these industry colonels!” said Adams. “Don't their toilings make +you ache in sheer sympathy sometimes?” + +“No, indeed,” was the prompt rejoinder; “I envy them. It must be fine +to have large things to do, and to be able to do them.” + +“Degenerate scion of a noble race!” jested Adams. “What ancient +Carteret of them all would have compromised with the necessities by +becoming a captain of industry?” + +“It wasn't their _metier_, or the _metier_ of their times,” said Miss +Virginia with conviction. “They were sword-soldiers merely because +that was the only way a strong man could conquer in those days. Now it +is different, and a strong man fights quite as nobly in another +field--and deserves quite as much honor.” + +“Think so? I don't agree with you--as to the fighting, I mean. I like +to take things easy. A good club, a choice of decent theaters, the +society of a few charming young women like--” + +She broke him with a mocking laugh. + +“You were born a good many centuries too late, Mr. Adams; you would +have fitted so beautifully, into decadent Rome.” + +“No--thanks. Twentieth-century America, with the commercial frenzy +taken out of it, is good enough for me. I was telling Winton a little +while ago--” + +“Your friend of the Kansas City station platform?” she interrupted. +“Mightn't you introduce us a little less informally?” + +“Beg pardon, I'm sure--yours and Jack's: Mr. John Winton, of New York +and the world at large, familiarly known to his intimates--and they +are precious few--as 'Jack W.' As I was about to say--” + +But she seemed to find a malicious satisfaction in breaking in upon +him. + +“'Mr. John Winton': it's a pretty name as names go, but it isn't as +strong as he is. He is an 'industry colonel,' isn't he? He looks it.” + +The Bostonian avenged himself at Winton's expense for the unwelcome +interruption. + +“So much for your woman's intuition,” he laughed. “Speaking of idlers, +there is your man to the dotting of the 'i'; a dilettante raised to +the _nth_ power.” + +Miss Carteret's short upper lip curled in undisguised scorn. + +“I like men who do things,” she asserted with pointed emphasis; +whereupon the talk drifted eastward to Boston, and Winton was ignored +until Virginia, having exhausted the reminiscent vein, said, “You are +going on through to Denver?” + +“To Denver and beyond,” was the reply. “Winton has a notion of +hibernating in the mountains--fancy it; in the dead of winter!--and he +has persuaded me to go along. He sketches a little, you know.” + +“Oh, so he is an artist?” said Virginia, with interest newly aroused. + +“No,” said Adams gloomily, “he isn't an artist--isn't much of +anything, I'm sorry to say. Worse than all, he doesn't know his +grandfather's middle name. Told me so himself.” + +“That is inexcusable--in a dilettante,” said Miss Virginia mockingly. +“Don't you think so?” + +“It is inexcusable in anyone,” said the Technologian, rising to take +his leave. Then, as a parting word: “Does the Rosemary set its own +table? or do you dine in the dining-car?” + +“In the dining-car, if we have one. Uncle Somerville lets us dodge the +Rosemary's cook whenever we can,” was the answer; and with this bit of +information Adams went his way to the Denver sleeper. + +Finding Winton in his section, poring over a blue-print map and making +notes thereon after the manner of a man hard at work, Adams turned +back to the smoking-compartment. + +Now for Mr. Morton P. Adams the salt of life was a joke, harmless or +otherwise, as the tree might fall. So, during the long afternoon which +he wore out in solitude, there grew up in him a keen desire to see +what would befall if these two whom he had so grotesquely +misrepresented each to the other should come together in the pathway +of acquaintanceship. + +But how to bring them together was a problem which refused to be +solved until chance pointed the way. Since the Limited had lost +another hour during the day there was a rush for the dining-car as +soon as the announcement of its taking-on had gone through the train. +Adams and Winton were of this rush, and so were the members of Mr. +Somerville Darrah's party. In the seating the party was separated, as +room at the crowded tables could be found; and Miss Virginia's fate +gave her the unoccupied seat at one of the duet tables, opposite a +young man with steadfast gray eyes and a firm jaw. + +Winton was equal to the emergency, or thought he was. Adams was still +within call and he beckoned him, meaning to propose an exchange of +seats. But the Bostonian misunderstood wilfully. + +“Most happy, I'm sure,” he said, coming instantly to the rescue. “Miss +Carteret, my friend signals his dilemma. May I present him?” + +Virginia smiled and gave the required permission in a word. But for +Winton self-possession fled shrieking. + +“Ah--er--I hope you know Mr. Adams well enough to make allowances for +his--for his--” He broke down helplessly and she had to come to his +assistance. + +“For his imagination?” she suggested. “I do, indeed; we are quite old +friends.” + +Here was “well enough,” but Winton was a man and could not let it +alone. + +“I should be very sorry to have you think for a moment that I +would--er--so far forget myself,” he went on fatuously. “What I had +in mind was an exchange of seats with him. I thought it would be +pleasanter for you; that is, I mean, pleasanter for--” He stopped +short, seeing nothing but a more hopeless involvement ahead; also +because he saw signals of distress or of mirth flying in the brown +eyes. + +“Oh, please!” she protested in mock humility. “Do leave my vanity just +the tiniest little cranny to creep out of, Mr. Winton. I'll promise to +be good and not bore you too desperately.” + +At this, as you would imagine, the pit of utter self-abasement yawned +for Winton, and he plunged headlong, holding the bill of fare wrong +side up when the waiter asked for his dinner order, and otherwise +demeaning himself like a man taken at a hopeless disadvantage. She +took pity on him. + +“But let's ignore Mr. Adams,” she went on sweetly. “I am much more +interested in this,” touching the bill of fare. “Will you order for +me, please? I like--” + +When she had finished the list of her likings, Winton was able to +smile at his lapse into the primitive, and gave the dinner order for +two with a fair degree of coherence. After that they got on better. +Winton knew Boston, and, next to the weather, Boston was the safest +and most fruitful of the commonplaces. Nevertheless, it was not +immortal; and Winton was just beginning to cast about for some other +safe riding road for the shallop of small talk when Miss Carteret sent +it adrift with malice aforethought. + +It was somewhere between the entrees and the fruit, and the point of +departure was Boston art. + +“Speaking of art, Mr. Winton, will you tell me how you came to think +of sketching in the mountains of Colorado at this time of year? I +should think the cold would be positively prohibitive of anything like +that.” + +Winton stared--open-mouthed, it is to be feared. + +“I--I beg your pardon,” he stammered, with the inflection which takes +its pitch from blank bewilderment. + +Miss Virginia was happy. Dilettante he might be, and an unhumbled man +of the world as well; but, to use the Reverend Billy's phrase, she +could make him “sit up.” + +“I beg yours, I'm sure,” she said demurely. “I didn't know it was a +craft secret.” + +Winton looked across the aisle to the table where the Technologian was +sitting opposite a square-shouldered, ruddy-faced gentleman with fiery +eyes and fierce white mustaches, and shook a figurative fist. + +“I'd like to know what Adams has been telling you,” he said. +“Sketching in the mountains in midwinter! that would be decidedly +original, to say the least of it. And I think I have never done an +original thing in all my life.” + +For a single instant the brown eyes looked their pity for him; generic +pity it was, of the kind that mounting souls bestow upon the stagnant. +But the subconscious lover in Winton made it personal to him, and it +was the lover who spoke when he went on. + +“That is a damaging admission, is it not? I am sorry to have to make +it--to have to confirm your poor opinion of me.” + +“Did I say anything like that?” she protested. + +“Not in words; but your eyes said it, and I know you have been +thinking it all along. Don't ask me how I know it: I couldn't explain +it if I should try. But you have been pitying me, in a way--you know +you have.” + +The brown eyes were downcast. Frank and free-hearted after her kind as +she was, Virginia Carteret was finding it a new and singular +experience to have a man tell her baldly at their first meeting that +he had read her inmost thought of him. Yet she would not flinch or go +back. + +“There is so much to be done in the world, and so few to do the work,” + she pleaded in extenuation. + +“And Adams has told you that I am not one of the few? It is true +enough to hurt.” + +She looked him fairly in the eyes. “What is lacking, Mr. Winton--the +spur?” + +“Possibly,” he rejoined. “There is no one near enough to care, or to +say 'Well done!'” + +“How can you tell?” she questioned musingly. “It is not always +permitted to us to hear the plaudits or the hisses--happily, I think. +Yet there are always those standing by who are ready to cry '_Io +triumphe_!' and mean it, when one approves himself a good soldier.” + +The coffee had been served, and Winton sat thoughtfully stirring the +lump of sugar in his cup. Miss Carteret was not having a monopoly of +the new experiences. For instance, it had never before happened to +John Winton to have a woman, young, charming, and altogether lovable, +read him a lesson out of the book of the overcomers. + +He smiled inwardly and wondered what she would say if she could know +to what battlefield the drumming wheels of the Limited were speeding +him. Would she be loyal to her mentorship and tell him he must win, at +whatever the cost to Mr. Somerville Darrah and his business +associates? Or would she, womanlike, be her uncle's partizan and write +one John Winton down in her blackest book for daring to oppose the +Rajah? + +He assured himself it would make no jot of difference if he knew. He +had a thing to do, and he was purposed to do it strenuously, +inflexibly. Yet in the inmost chamber of his heart, where the +barbarian ego stands unabashed and isolate and recklessly contemptuous +of the moralities minor and major, he saw the birth of an influence +which inevitably must henceforth be desperately reckoned with. + +Given a name, this new-born life-factor was love; love barely +awakened, and as yet no more than a masterful desire to stand well in +the eyes of one woman. None the less, he saw the possibilities: that a +time might come when this woman would have the power to intervene; +would make him hold his hand in the business affair at the very +moment, mayhap, when he should strike the hardest. + +It was a rather unnerving thought, and when he considered it he was +glad that their ways, coinciding for the moment, would presently go +apart, leaving him free to do battle as an honest soldier in any cause +must. + +The Rosemary party was rising, and Winton rose, too, folding the seat +for Miss Virginia and carefully reaching her wrap from the rack. + +“I am so glad to have met you,” she said, giving him the tips of her +fingers and going back to the conventionalities as if they had never +been ignored. + +But the sincerity in Winton's reply transcended the conventional form +of it. + +“Indeed, the pleasure has been wholly mine, I assure you. I hope the +future will be kind to me and let me see more of you.” + +“Who knows?” she rejoined, smiling at him level-eyed. “The world has +been steadily growing smaller since Shakespeare called it 'narrow.'” + +He caught quickly at the straw of hope. “Then we need not say +good-by?” + +“No; let it be _auf Wiedersehen_,” she said; and he stood aside to +allow her to join her party. + +Two hours later, when Adams was reading in his section and Winton was +smoking his short pipe in the men's compartment and thinking things +unspeakable with Virginia Carteret for a nucleus, there was a series +of sharp whistle-shrieks, a sudden grinding of the brakes, and a +jarring stop of the Limited--a stop not down on the time-card. + +Winton was among the first to reach the head of the long train. The +halt was in a little depression of the bleak plain, and the train-men +were in conference over a badly-derailed engine when Winton came up. +A vast herd of cattle was lumbering away into the darkness, and a +mangled carcass under the wheels of the locomotive sufficiently +explained the accident. + +“Well, there's only the one thing to do,” was the engineer's verdict. +“That's for somebody to mog back to Arroyo to wire for the +wreck-wagon.” + +“Yes, by gum! and that means all night,” growled the conductor. + +There was a stir in the gathering throng of half-alarmed and +all-curious passengers, and a red-faced, white-mustached gentleman, +whose soft southern accent was utterly at variance with his manner, +hurled a question bolt-like at the conductor. + +“All night, you say, seh? Then we miss ouh Denver connections?” + +“You can bet to win on that,” was the curt reply. + +“Damn!” said the ruddy-faced gentleman; and then in a lower tone: “I +beg your pahdon, my deah Virginia; I was totally unaware of your +presence.” + +Winton threw off his overcoat. + +“If you will take a bit of help from an outsider, I think we needn't +wait for the wrecking-car,” he said to the dubious trainmen. “It's +bad, but not so bad as it looks. What do you say?” + +Now, as everyone knows, it is not in the nature of operative railway +men to brook interference even of the helpful sort. But they are as +quick as other folk to recognize the man in essence, as well as to +know the clan slogan when they hear it. Winton did not wait for +objections, but took over the command as one in authority. + +“Think we can't do it? I'll show you. Up on the tank, one of you, and +heave down the jacks and frogs. We'll have her on the steel again +before you can say your prayers.” + +At the hearty command, churlish reluctance vanished and everybody lent +a willing hand. In two minutes the crew of the Limited knew it was +working under a master. The frogs were adjusted under the derailed +wheels, the jack-screws were braced to lift and push with the nicest +accuracy, and all was ready for the attempt to back the engine in +trial. But now the engineer shook his bead. + +“I ain't the artist to move her gently enough with all that string o' +dinkeys behind her,” he said unhopefully. + +“No?” said Winton. “Come up into the cab with and I'll show you how.” + And he climbed to the driver's footboard with the doubting engineer at +his heels. + +The reversing-lever went over with a clash; the air whistled into the +brakes; and Winton began to ease the throttle open. The steam sang +into the cylinders, the huge machine trembling like a living thing +under the hand of a master. + +Slowly and by almost imperceptible degrees the life of the pent-up +boiler power crept into the pistons and out through the connecting +rods to the wheels. With the first thrill of the gripping tires Winton +leaned from the window to watch the derailed trucks climb by +half-inches up the inclined planes of the frogs. + +At the critical instant, when the entire weight of the forward half of +the engine was poising for the drop upon the rails, he gave the +precise added impulse. The big ten-wheeler coughed hoarsely and spat +fire; the driving-wheels made a quick half-turn backward; and a cheer +from the onlookers marked the little triumph of mind over matter. + +Winton found Miss Carteret holding his overcoat when he swung down +from the cab, and he fancied her enthusiasm was tempered with +something remotely like embarrassment. But she suffered him to walk +back to the private car beside her; and in this sudden retreat from +the scene of action he missed hearing the comments of his fellow +craftsmen. + +“You bet, he's no 'prentice,” said the fireman. + +“Not much!” quoth the engineer. “He's an all-round artist, that's +about what he is. Shouldn't wonder if he was the travelin' engineer +for some road back in God's country.” + +“Travelin' nothing!” said the conductor. “More likely he's a +train-master, 'r p'raps a bigger boss than that. Call in the flag, +Jim, and we'll be getting a move.” + +Oddly enough, the comment on Winton did not pause with the encomiums +of the train crew. When the Limited was once more rushing on its way +through the night, and Virginia and her cousin were safe in the +privacy of their state-room, Miss Carteret added her word. + +“Do you know, Bessie, I think it was Mr. Adams who scored this +afternoon?” she said. + +“How so?” inquired _la petite_ Bisque, who was too sleepy to be +over-curious. + +“I think he 'took a rise' out of me, as he puts it. Mr. Winton is +precisely all the kinds of man Mr. Adams said he wasn't.” + + + + +III. IN WHICH AN ITINERARY IS CHANGED + + +It was late breakfast time when the Transcontinental Limited swept +around the great curve in the eastern fringe of Denver, paused for a +registering moment at “yard limits,” and went clattering in over the +switches to come to rest at the end of its long westward run on the +in-track at the Union Depot. + +Having wired ahead to have his mail meet him at the yard limits +registering station, Winton was ready to make a dash for the telegraph +office the moment the train stopped. + +“That is our wagon, over there on the narrow-gage,” he said to Adams, +pointing out the waiting mountain train. “Have the porter transfer our +dunnage, and I'll be with you as soon as I can send a wire or two.” + +On the way across the broad platform he saw the yard crew cutting out +the Rosemary, and had a glimpse of Miss Virginia clinging to the +hand-rail and enjoying enthusiastically, he fancied, her first view of +the mighty hills to the westward. + +The temptation to let the telegraphing wait while he went to say good +morning to her was strong, but he resisted it and hastened the more +for the hesitant thought. Nevertheless, when he reached the telegraph +office he found Mr. Somerville Darrah and his secretary there ahead of +him, and he observed that the explosive gentleman who presided over +the destinies of the Colorado and Grand River appeared to be in a more +than usually volcanic frame of mind. + +Now Winton, though new to the business of building railroads for the +Utah Short Line, was not new to Denver or Colorado. Hence when the +Rajah, followed by his secretarial shadow, had left the office, Winton +spoke to the operator as to a friend. + +“What is the matter with Mr. Darrah, Tom? He seems to be uncommonly +vindictive this morning.” + +The man of dots and dashes nodded. + +“He's always crankier this time than he was the other. He's a holy +terror, the Rajah is. I wouldn't work on his road for a farm down +East--not if my job took me within cussing distance of him. Bet a hen +worth fifty dollars he is up in Mr. Colbert's office right now, +raising particular sand because his special engine wasn't standing +here ready to snatch his private car on the fly, so's to go on without +losing headway.” + +Winton frowned thoughtfully, and he let his writing hand pause while +he said, “So he travels special from Denver, does he?” + +“On his own road?--well, I should smile. Nothing is too good for the +Rajah; or too quick, when he happens to be in a hurry. I wonder he +didn't have the T. C. pull him special from Kansas City.” + +Winton handed in his batch of telegrams and went his way reflective. + +What was Mr. Somerville Darrah's particular rush? As set forth by +Adams, the plans of the party in the Rosemary contemplated nothing +more hasty than a leisurely trip to the Pacific coast--a pleasure +jaunt with a winter sojourn in California to lengthen it. Why, then, +this sudden change from Limited regular trains to unlimited specials? +Was there fresh news from the seat of war in Quartz Creek Canyon? +Winton thought not. In that case he would have had his budget as well; +and so far as his own advices went, matters were still as they had +been. A letter from the Utah attorneys in Carbonate assured him that +the injunction appeal was not yet decided, and another from Chief of +Construction Evarts concerned itself mainly with the major's desire to +know when he was to be relieved. + +But if Winton could have been an eavesdropper behind the door of +Superintendent Colbert's office on the second floor of the Union +Depot, his doubts would have been resolved instantly. + +The telegraph operator's guess went straight to the mark. Mr. Darrah +was “raising particular sand” because his wire order for a special +engine had not been obeyed to the saving of the ultimate second of +time. But between his objurgations on that score, he was rasping out +questions designed to exhaust the chief clerk's store of information +concerning the status of affairs at the seat of war. + +“Will you inform me, seh, why I wasn't wired that this beggahly appeal +was going against us?” he demanded wrathfully. “What's that you say, +seh? Don't tell me you couldn't know what the decision of the cou't +was going to be before it was handed down: that's what you-all are +heah for--to find out these things! And what is all this about Majah +Eva'ts resigning, and the Utah's sending East for a professional +right-of-way fighteh to take his place? Who is this new man? Don't +know? Dammit, seh! it's your business to know! _Now when do you faveh +me with my engine_?” + +Thus the Rajah; and the chief clerk, himself known from end to end of +the Colorado and Grand River as a queller of men, could only point out +of the window to where the Rosemary stood engined and equipped for the +race, and say meekly: “I'm awfully sorry you've been delayed, Mr. +Darrah; very sorry, indeed. But your car is ready now. Shall I go +along to be on hand if you need me?” + +“No, seh!” stormed the irate master; and the chief clerk's face became +instantly expressive of the keenest relief. “You stay right heah and +see that the wires to Qua'tz Creek are kept open--wide open, seh. And +when you get an ordeh from me--for an engine, a regiment of the +National Gyua'd, or a train-load of white elephants--you fill it. Do +you understand, seh?” + +Meantime, while this scene was getting itself enacted in the +superintendent's office, a mild fire of consternation was alight in +the gathering room of the Rosemary. As we have guessed, Winton's +packet of mail was not the only one which was delivered by special +arrangement that morning to the incoming Limited at the yard +registering station. There had been another, addressed to Mr. +Somerville Darrah; and when he had opened it there had been a volcanic +explosion and a hurried dash for the telegraph office, as recorded. + +Sifted out by the Reverend Billy, and explained by him to Mrs. +Carteret and Bessie, the firing spark of the explosion appeared to be +some news of an untoward character from a place vaguely designated as +“the front.” + +“It seems that there is some sort of a right-of-way scrimmage going on +up in the mountains between our road and the Utah Short Line,” said +the young man. “It was carried into the courts, and now it turns out +that the decision has gone against us.” + +“How perfectly horrid!” said Miss Bessie. “Now I suppose we shall have +to stay here indefinitely while Uncle Somerville does things.” And +placid Mrs. Carteret added plaintively: “It's too bad! I think they +might let him have one little vacation in peace.” + +“Who talks of peace?” queried Virginia, driven in from her post of +vantage on the observation platform by the smoke from the +switching-engine. “Didn't I see Uncle Somerville charging across to +the telegraph office with war written out large in every line of him?” + +“I am afraid you did,” affirmed the Reverend Billy; and thereupon the +explanation was rehearsed for Virginia's benefit. + +The brown eyes flashed militant sympathy. + +“Oh, I wish Uncle Somerville would go to 'the front,' wherever that +is, and take us along!” she cried. “It would be ever so much better +than California.” + +The Reverend William laughed; and Aunt Martha put in her word of +expostulation, as in duty bound. + +“Why, my dear Virginia--the idea! You don't know in the least what you +are talking about. I have been reading in the papers about these +right-of-way troubles, and they are perfectly terrible. One report +said they were arming the laboring men, and another said the militia +might have to be called out.” + +“Well, what of it?” said Virginia, with all the hardihood of youth and +unknowledge. “It's something like a burning building: one doesn't want +to be hard-hearted and rejoice over other people's misfortunes; but +then, if it has to burn, one would like to be there to see.” + +Miss Bessie put a stray lock of the flaxen hair up under its proper +comb. + +“I'm sure I prefer California and the orange-groves and peace,” she +asserted. “Don't you, Cousin Billy?” + +What Mr. Calvert would have replied is no matter for this history, +since at this precise moment the Rajah came in, “coruscating,” as +Virginia put it, from his late encounter with the superintendent's +chief clerk. + +“Give them the word to go, Jastrow, and let's get out of heah,” he +commanded. And when the secretary had vanished the Rajah made his +explanations to all and sundry. “I've been obliged in a manneh to +change ouh itinerary. Anotheh company is trying to fault us up in +Qua'tz Creek Canyon, and I am in a meashuh compelled to be on the +ground. We shall be delayed only a few days, I hope; at the worst only +until the first snow-storm comes; and, in the meantime, Califo'nia +won't run away.” + +Virginia clapped her hands. + +“Then we are really to go to 'the front' and see a right-of-way fight? +Oh, won't that be perfectly intoxicating!” + +The Rajah glared at her as if she had said something incendiary. The +picturesque aspect of the struggle had evidently not appealed to him. +But he smiled grimly when he said: “Now there spoke the blood of the +fighting Carterets: hope you won't change your mind, my deah.” And +with that he dived into his working den, pushing the lately-returned +secretary in ahead of him. + +Virginia linked arms with Bessie, the flaxen-haired, when the wheels +began to turn. + +“We are off,” she said. “Let's go out on the platform and see the last +of Denver.” + +It was while they were clinging to the hand-rail, and looking back +upon the jumble of railway activities out of which they had just +emerged that the Rosemary, gaining headway, overtook another moving +train running smoothly on a track parallel to that upon which the +private car was speeding. It was the narrow-gage mountain connection +of the Utah line, and Winton and Adams were on the rear platform of +the last car. So it chanced that the four of them were presently +waving their adieus across the wind-blown interspace. In the midst of +it, or rather at the moment when the Rosemary, gathering speed as the +lighter of the two trains, forged ahead, the Rajah came out to light +his cigar. + +He took in the little tableau of the rear platforms at a glance, and +when the slower train was left behind asked a question of Virginia. + +“Ah--wasn't one of those two the young gentleman who called on you +yestehday afternoon, my deah?” + +Virginia admitted it. + +“Could you faveh me with his name?” + +“He is Mr. Morton P. Adams, of Boston.” + +“Ah-h! and his friend--the young gentleman who laid his hand to ouh +plow and put the engine on the track last night?” + +“He is Mr. Winton--a--an artist, I believe; at least, that is what I +gathered from what Mr. Adams said of him.” + +Mr. Somerville Darrah laughed, a slow little laugh, deep in his chest. + +“Bless youh innocent soul--he a picchuh--painteh? Not in a thousand +yeahs, my deah Virginia. He is a railroad man, and a right good one at +that. Faveh me with the name again; Winteh, did you say?” + +“No; Winton--Mr. John Winton.” + +“D-d-devil!” gritted the Rajah, smiting the hand-rail with his +clenched fist. “Hah! I beg your pahdon, my deahs--a meah slip of the +tongue.” And then, to the full as savagely: “By Heaven, I hope that +train will fly the track and ditch him before eveh he comes within +ordering distance of the work in Qua'tz Creek Canyon!” + +“Why, Uncle Somerville--how vindictive!” cried Virginia. “Who is he, +and what has he done?” + +“He is Misteh John Winton, as you informed me just now; one of the +brainiest constructing engineers in this entiah country, and the +hardest man in this or any otheh country to down in a right-of-way +fight--that's who he is. And it's not what he's done, my deah +Virginia, it's what he is going to do. If I can't get him killed up +out of ouh way,”--but here Mr. Darrah saw the growing terror in two +pairs of eyes, and realizing that he was committing himself before an +unsympathetic audience, beat a hasty retreat to his stronghold at the +other end of the Rosemary. + +“Well!” said the flaxen-haired Bessie, catching her breath. But +Virginia laughed. + +“I'm glad I'm not Mr. Winton,” she said. + + + + +IV. THE CRYSTALLINE ALTITUDES + + +Morning in the highest highlands of the Rockies, a morning clear, +cold, and tense, with a bell-like quality in the frosty air to make +the cracking of a snow-laden spruce-bough resound like a pistol-shot. +For Denver and the dwellers on the eastern plain the sun is an hour +high; but the hamlet mining-camp of Argentine, with its dovecote +railway station and two-pronged siding, still lies in the steel-blue +depths of the canyon shadow. + +Massive mountains, dark green to the timber line and dazzling white +above it, shut in the narrow valley to right and left. A mimic +torrent, ice-bound in the quieter pools, drums and gurgles on its +descent midway between two railway embankments, the one to which the +station and side-tracks belong, old and well-settled, the other new +and as yet unballasted. Just opposite the pygmy station a lateral +gorge intersects the main canyon, making a deep gash in the opposing +mountain bulwark, around which the new line has to find its way by a +looping detour. + +In a scanty widening of the main canyon a few hundred yards below the +station a graders' camp of rude slab shelters is turning out its horde +of wild-looking Italians; and on a crooked spur track fronting the +shanties blue wood-smoke is curling lazily upward from the kitchen car +of a construction train. + +All night long the Rosemary, drawn by the sturdiest of mountain-climbing +locomotives, had stormed onward and upward from the valley of the +Grand, through black defiles and around the shrugged shoulders of the +mighty peaks to find a resting-place in the white-robed dawn on the +siding at Argentine. The lightest of sleepers, Virginia had awakened +when the special was passing through Carbonate; and, drawing the berth +curtain, she had lain for an hour watching the solemn procession of +cliffs and peaks wheeling in stately and orderly array against the +inky background of sky. Now, in the steel-blue dawn, she was--or +thought she was--the first member of the party to dress and steal out +upon the railed platform to look abroad upon the wondrous scene in the +canyon. + +But her reverie, trance-like in its wordless enthusiasm, was presently +broken by a voice behind her--the voice, namely, of Mr. Arthur +Jastrow. + +“What a howling wilderness, to be sure, isn't it?” said the secretary, +twirling his eyeglasses by the cord and looking, as he felt, +interminably bored. + +“No, indeed; anything but that,” she retorted warmly. “It is grander +than anything I ever imagined. I wish there were a piano in the car. +It makes me fairly ache to set it in some form of expression, and +music is the only form I know.” + +“I'm glad if it doesn't bore you,” he rejoined, willing to agree with +her for the sake of prolonging the interview. “But to me it is nothing +more than a dreary wilderness, as I say; a barren, rock-ribbed gulch +affording an indifferent right of way for two railroads.” + +“For one,” she corrected, in a quick upflash of loyalty for her kin. + +The secretary shifted his gaze from the mountains to the maiden and +smiled. She was exceedingly good to look upon--high-bred, queenly, and +just now the fine fire of enthusiasm quickened her pulses and sent the +rare flush to neck and cheek. + +Jastrow the cold-eyed, the business automaton, set to go off with a +click at Mr. Somerville Darrah's touch, had ambitions not automatic. +Some day he meant to put the world of business under foot as a +conqueror, standing triumphant on the apex of that pyramid of success +which the Mr. Somerville Darrahs were so painstakingly uprearing. When +that day should come, there would need to be an establishment, a +menage, a queen for the kingdom of success. Summing her up for the +hundredth time since the beginning of the westward flight, he thought +Miss Carteret would fill the requirements passing well. + +But this was a divagation, and he pulled himself back to the askings +of the moment, agreeing with her again without reference to his +private convictions. + +“For one, I should have said,” he amended. “We mean to have it that +way, though an unprejudiced onlooker might be foolish enough to say +that there is a pretty good present prospect of two.” + +But Miss Carteret was in a contradictory mood. Moreover, she was a +woman, and the way to a woman's confidence does not lie through the +neutral country of easy compliance. + +“If you won't take the other side, I will,” she said. “There will be +two.” + +Jastrow acquiesced a second time. + +“I shouldn't wonder. Our competitor's road seems to be only a question +of time--a very short time, judging from the number of men turning out +in the track gang down yonder.” + +Virginia leaned over the railing to look past the car and the dovecote +station shading her eyes to shut out the snow-blink from the sun-fired +peaks. + +“Why, they are soldiers!” she exclaimed. “At least, some of them have +guns on their shoulders. And see--they are forming in line!” + +The secretary adjusted his eye-glasses. + +“By Jove! you are right; they have armed the track force. The new +chief of construction doesn't mean to take any chances of being shaken +loose by main strength. Here they come.” + +The end of track of the new line was diagonally across the creek from +the Rosemary's berth and a short pistol-shot farther down stream. But +to advance it to a point opposite the private car, and to gain the +altitude of the high embankment directly across from the station, the +new line turned short out of the main canyon at the mouth of the +intersecting gorge, describing a long, U-shaped curve around the head +of the lateral ravine and doubling back upon itself to reenter the +canyon proper at the higher elevation. + +The curve which was the beginning of this U-shaped loop was the +morning's scene of action, and the Utah track-layers, two hundred +strong, moved to the front in orderly array, with armed guards as +flankers for the handcar load of rails which the men were pushing up +the grade. + +Jastrow darted into the car, and a moment later his place on the +observation platform was taken by a wrathful industry colonel fresh +from his dressing-room--so fresh, indeed, that he was coatless, +hatless, and collarless, and with the dripping bath-sponge clutched +like a missile to hurl at the impudent invaders on the opposite side +of the canyon. + +“Hah! wouldn't wait until a man could get into his clothes!” he +rasped, apostrophizing the Utah's new chief of construction. “Jastrow! +Faveh me instantly, seh! Hustle up to the camp there and turn out the +constable, town-marshal, or whatever he is. Tell him I have a writ for +him to serve. Run, seh!” + +The secretary appeared and disappeared like a marionette when the +string has been jerked by a vigorous hand, and Virginia smiled--this +without prejudice to a very acute appreciation of the grave +possibilities which were preparing themselves. But having her share of +the militant quality which made her uncle what he was, she stood her +ground. + +“Aren't you afraid you will take cold, Uncle Somerville?” she asked +archly; and the Rajah came suddenly to a sense of his incompleteness +and went in to finish his ablutions against the opening of the battle +actual. + +At first Virginia thought she would follow him. When Mercury Jastrow +should return with the officer of the law there would be trouble of +some sort, and the woman in her shrank from the witnessing of it. But +at the same instant the blood of the fighting Carterets asserted +itself and she resolved to stay. + +“I wonder what uncle hopes to be able to do?” she mused. “Will a +little town constable with a bit of signed paper from some lawyer or +judge be mighty enough to stop all that furious activity over there? +It's more than incredible.” + +From that she fell to watching the activity and the orderly purpose of +it. A length of steel, with men clustering like bees upon it, would +slide from its place on the hand-car to fall with a frosty clang on +the cross-ties. Instantly the hammermen would pounce upon it. One +would fall upon hands and knees to “sight” it into place; two others +would slide the squeaking track-gage along its inner edge; a quartet, +working like the component parts of a faultless mechanism, would tap +the fixing spikes into the wood; and then at a signal a dozen of the +heavy pointed hammers swung aloft and a rhythmic volley of resounding +blows clamped the rail into permanence on its wooden bed. + +Ahead of the steel-layers were the Italians placing the cross-ties in +position to receive the track, and here the foreman's badge of office +and scepter was a pick-handle. Above all the clamor and the shoutings +Virginia could hear the bull-bellow of this foreman roaring out his +commands--in terms happily not understandable to her; and once she +drew back with a little cry of womanly shrinking when the pick-handle +thwacked upon the shoulders of one who lagged. + +It was this bit of brutality which enabled her to single out Winton in +the throng of workers. He heard the blow, and the oath that went with +it, and she saw him run forward to wrench the bludgeon from the +bully's hands and fling it afar. What words emphasized the act she +could not hear, but the little deed of swift justice thrilled her +curiously, and her heart warmed to him as it had when he had thrown +off his coat to fall to work on the derailed engine of the Limited. + +“That was fine!” she said to herself. “Most men in his place wouldn't +care, so long as the work was done, and done quickly. I wonder +if--oh, you startled me!” + +It was Mr. Somerville Darrah again, clothed upon and in his right +mind; otherwise the mind of a master of men who will brook neither +defeat at the hands of an antagonist nor disobedience on the part of +his following. He was scowling fiercely across at the Utah activities +when she spoke, but at her exclamation the frown softened into a smile +for his favorite niece. + +“Startled you, eh? Pahdon me, my deah Virginia. But as I am about to +startle some one else, perhaps you would better go in to your aunt.” + +She put a hand on his arm. “Please let me stay out here, Uncle +Somerville,” she said. “I'll be good and not get in the way.” + +He shook his head, in deprecation rather than in refusal. + +“An officer will be here right soon now to make an arrest. There may +be a fight, or at least trouble of a sort you wouldn't care to see, my +deah.” + +“Is it--is it Mr. Winton?” she asked. + +He nodded. + +“What has he been doing--besides being 'The Enemy'?” + +The Rajah's smile was ferocious. + +“Just now he is trespassing, and directing others to trespass, upon +private property. Do you see that dump up there on the mountain?--the +hole that looks like a mouth with a long gray beard hanging below it? +That is a mine, and its claim runs down across the track where Misteh +Winton is just now spiking his rails.” + +“But, I don't understand,” she began; then she stopped short and clung +to the strong arm. A man in a wide-flapped hat and cowboy +_chaparejos_, with a revolver on either hip, was crossing the stream +on the ice-bridge to scramble up the embankment of the new line. + +“The officer?” she asked in an awed whisper. + +The Rajah made a sign of assent. Then, identifying Winton in the +throng of workers, he forgot Virginia's presence. “Confound him!” he +fumed. “I'd give a thousand dollars if he'd faveh me by showing fight +so we could lock him up on a criminal count!” + +“Why, Uncle Somerville!” she cried. + +But there was no time for reproaches. The leather-breeched person +parading as the Argentine town-marshal had climbed the embankment, +and, singling out his man, was reading his warrant. + +Contrary to Mr. Darrah's expressed hope, Winton submitted quietly. +With a word to his men--a word that stopped the strenuous labor-battle +as suddenly as it had begun--he turned to pick his way down the rough +hillside at the heels of the marshal. + +For some reason that she could never have set out in words Virginia +was distinctly disappointed. It was no part of her desire to see the +conflict blaze up in violence, but it nettled her to see Winton give +up so easily. Some such thought as this had possession of her while +the marshal and his prisoner were picking their way across the ice, +and she was hoping that Winton would give her a chance to requite him, +if only with a look. + +But it was Town-Marshal Peter Biggin, affectionately known to his +constituents as “Bigginjin Pete,” who gave her the coveted +opportunity. Instead of disappearing decently with his captive, the +marshal made the mistake of his life by marching Winton up the track +to the private car, thrusting him forward, and saying: “Here's yer +meat, Guv'nor. What-all 'ud ye like fer me to do with hit now I've +got it?” + +Now it is safe to assume that the Rajah had no intention of appearing +thus openly as the instigator of Winton's arrest. Hence, if a fierce +scowl and a wordless oath could maim, it is to be feared that the +overzealous Mr. Biggin would have been physically disqualified on the +spot. As it was, Mr. Darrah's ebullient wrath could find no adequate +speech forms, and in the eloquent little pause Winton had time to +smile up at Miss Carteret and to wish her the pleasantest of +good-mornings. + +But the Rajah's handicap was not permanent. + +“Confound you, seh!” he exploded. “I'm not a justice of the peace! If +you've made an arrest, you must have had a warrant for it, and you +ought to know what to do with your prisoneh.” + +“I'm dashed if I do,” objected the simple-hearted Mr. Biggin. “I +allowed you wanted him.” + +Winton laughed openly. + +“Simplify it for him, Mr. Darrah. We all know that it was your move to +stop the work, and you have stopped it--for the moment. What is the +charge, and where is it answerable?” + +The Rajah dropped the mask and spoke to the point. + +“The cha'ge, seh, is trespass, and it is answerable in Judge +Whitcomb's cou't in Carbonate. The plaintiff in this particular case +is John Doe, the supposable owneh of that mining claim up yondeh. In +the next it will probably be Richa'd Roe. You are fighting a losing +battle, seh.” + +Winton's smile showed his teeth. + +“That remains to be seen,” he countered coolly. + +The Rajah waved a shapely hand toward the opposite embankment, where +the tracklayers were idling in silent groups waiting for some one in +authority to tell them what to do. + +“We can do that every day, Misteh Winton. And each separate individual +arrest will cost your company twelve hours, or such a matteh--the time +required for you to go to Carbonate to give bond for your appearance.” + +During this colloquy Virginia had held her ground stubbornly, this +though she felt intuitively that it would be the greatest possible +relief to all three of these men if she would go away. + +But now a curious struggle as of a divided allegiance was holding her. +Of course, she wanted Mr. Somerville Darrah to win. Since he was its +advocate, his cause must be righteous and just. But against this +dutiful convincement there was a rebellious hope that Winton would not +allow himself to be beaten; or, rather, it was a feeling that she +would never forgive him if he should. + +So it was that she stood with face averted lest he should see her eyes +and read the rebellious hope in them. And in spite of the precaution +he both saw and read, and made answer to the Rajah's ultimatum +accordingly. + +“Do your worst, Mr. Darrah. We have some twenty miles of steel to lay +to take us into the Carbonate yards. That steel shall go down in spite +of anything you can do to prevent it.” + +Virginia waited breathless for her uncle's reply to this cool +defiance. Quite contrary to all precedent, it was mildly +expostulatory. + +“It grieves me, seh, to find you so determined to cou't failure,” he +began; and when the whistle of the upcoming Carbonate train gave him +leave to go on: “Constable, you will find transpo'tation for yourself +and one in the hands of the station agent. Misteh Winton, that is your +train. I wish you good-morning and a pleasant journey. Come, Virginia, +we shall be late to ouh breakfast.” + +Winton walked back to the station at the heels of his captor, +cudgeling his brain to devise some means of getting word to Adams. +Happily the Technologian, who had been unloading steel at the +construction camp, had been told of the arrest, and when Winton +reached the station he found his assistant waiting for him. + +But now the train was at hand and time had grown suddenly precious. +Winton turned short upon the marshal. + +“This is not a criminal matter, Mr. Biggin: will you give me a moment +with my friend?” + +The ex-cowboy grinned. “Bet your life I will. I ain't lovin' that old +b'iler-buster in the private car none too hard.” And he went in to get +the passes. + +“What's up?” queried Adams, forgetting his drawl for once in a way. + +“An arrest--trumped-up charge of trespass on that mining claim up +yonder. But I've got to go to Carbonate to answer the charge and give +bonds, just the same.” + +“Any instructions?” + +“Yes. When the train is out of sight and hearing, you get back over +there and drive that track-laying for every foot there is in it.” + +Adams nodded. “I'll do it, and get myself locked up, I suppose.” + +“No, you won't; that's the beauty of it. The majesty of the law--all +there is of it in Argentine--goes with me to Carbonate in the person +of the town-marshal.” + +“Oh, good--succulently good! Well, so long. I'll look for you back on +the evening train?” + +“Sure,” was the confident reply, “if the Rajah doesn't order it to be +abandoned on my poor account.” + +Ten minutes later, when the train had gone storming on its way to +Carbonate and the Rosemary party was at breakfast, the clank of steel +and the chanteys of the hammermen on the other side of the canyon +began again with renewed vigor. The Rajah threw up his head like a +war-horse scenting the battle from afar and laid his commands upon the +long-suffering secretary. + +“Faveh me, Jastrow. Get out there and see what they are doing, seh.” + +The secretary was back in the shortest possible interval, and his +report was concise and business-like. + +“Work under full headway again, in charge of a fellow who wears a +billy-cock hat and smokes cigarettes.” + +“Mr. Morton P. Adams,” said Virginia, recognizing the description. +“Will you have him arrested too, Uncle Somerville?” + +But the Rajah rose hastily without replying and went to his office +state-room, followed, shadow-like, by the obsequious Jastrow. + +It was some little time after breakfast, and Virginia and the Reverend +Billy were doing a constitutional on the plank platform at the +station, when the secretary came down from the car on his way to the +telegraph office. + +It was Virginia who stopped him. “What do we do next, Mr. Jastrow?” + she said; “call in the United States Army?” + +For reply he handed her a telegram, damp from the copying press. It +was addressed to the superintendent of the C. G. R. at Carbonate, and +she read it without scruple. + + “Have the Sheriff of Ute County swear in a dozen deputies and come + with them by special train to Argentine. Revive all possible titles + to abandoned mining claims on line of the Utah Extension, and have + Sheriff Deckert bring blank warrants to cover any emergency. + + “DARRAH V.-P.” + +“That's one of them,” said the secretary. “I daren't show you the +other.” + +“Oh, please!” she said, holding out her hand, while the Reverend Billy +considerately turned his back. + +Jastrow weighed the chances of detection. It was little enough he +could do to lay her under obligations to him, and he was willing to do +that little as he could. “I guess I can trust you,” he said, and gave +her the second square of press-damp paper. + +Like the first, it was addressed to the superintendent at Carbonate. +But this time the brown eyes flashed and her breath came quickly as +she read the vice-president's cold-blooded after-thought: + + “Town-Marshal Biggin will arrive in Carbonate on Number 201 this + A.M. with a prisoner. Have our attorneys see to it that the man is + promptly jailed in default of bond. If he is set at liberty, as he + is likely to be, I shall trust you to arrange for his rearrest and + detention at all hazards. + + “D.” + + + + +V. THE LANDSLIDE + + +Virginia took the first step in the perilous path of the strategist +when she handed the incendiary telegram back to Jastrow. + +“Poor Mr. Winton!” she said, with the real sympathy in the words made +most obviously perfunctory by the tone. “What a world of possibilities +there is masquerading behind that little word 'arrange.' Tell me more +about it, Mr. Jastrow. How will they 'arrange' it?” + +“Winton's rearrest? Nothing easier in a tough mining-camp like +Carbonate, I should say.” + +“Yes, but how?” + +“I can't prophesy how Grafton will go about it, but I know what I +should do.” + +Virginia's smile was irresistible, but there was a look in the deepest +depth of the brown eyes that was sifting Mr. Arthur Jastrow to the +innermost sand-heap of his desert nature. + +“How would you do it, Mr. Napoleon Jastrow?” she asked, giving him the +exact fillip on the side of gratified vanity. + +“Oh, I'd fix him. He is in a frame of mind right now; and by the time +the lawyers are through drilling him in the trespass affair, he'll be +just spoiling for a row with somebody.” + +“Do you think so? Oh, how delicious! And then what?” + +“Then I'd hire some plug-ugly to stumble up against him and pick a +quarrel with him. He'd do the rest--and land in the lock-up.” + +Those who knew her best said it was a warning to be heeded in Miss +Virginia Carteret when her eyes were downcast and her voice sank to +its softest cadence. + +“Why, certainly; how simple!” she said, taking her cousin's arm again; +and the secretary went in to set the wires at work in Winton's affair. + +Now Miss Carteret was a woman in every fiber of her, but among her +gifts she might have counted some that were, to say the least, +super-feminine. One of these was a measure of discretion which would +have been fairly creditable in a past master of diplomacy. So, while +the sympathetic part of her was crying out for a chance to talk +Winton's threatened danger over with some one, she lent herself +outwardly to the Reverend Billy's mood--which was one of scenic +enthusiasm; this without prejudice to a growing determination to +intervene in behalf of fair play for Winton if she could find a way. + +But the way obstinately refused to discover itself. The simple thing +to do would be to appeal to her uncle's sense of justice. It was not +like him to fight with ignoble weapons, she thought, and a tactful +word in season might make him recall the order to the superintendent. +But she could not make the appeal without betraying Jastrow. She knew +well enough that the secretary had no right to show her the telegrams; +knew also that Mr. Somerville Darrah's first word would be a demand to +know how she had learned the company's business secrets. Regarding +Jastrow as little as a high-bred young woman to whom sentiment is as +the breath of life can regard a man who is quite devoid of it, she was +still far enough from the thought of effacing him. + +To this expedient there was an unhopeful alternative: namely, the +sending, by the Reverend Billy, or, in the last resort, by herself, of +a warning message to Winton. But there were obstacles seemingly +insuperable. She had not the faintest notion of how such a warning +should be addressed; and again, the operator at Argentine was a +Colorado and Grand River employee, doubtless loyal to his salt, in +which case the warning message would never get beyond his +waste-basket. + +“Getting too chilly for you out here? Want to go in?” asked the +Reverend Billy, when the scenic enthusiasm began to outwear itself. + +“No; but I am tired of the sentry-go part of it--ten steps and a +turn,” she confessed. “Can't we walk on the track a little way?” + +Calvert saw no reason why they might not, and accordingly helped her +over to the snow-encrusted path between the rails. + +“We can trot down and have a look at their construction camp, if you +like,” he suggested, and thitherward they went. + +There was not much to see, after all, as the Reverend Billy remarked +when they had reached a coign of vantage below the curve. A string of +use-worn bunk cars; a “dinkey” caboose serving as the home on wheels +of the chief of construction and his assistant; a crooked siding with +a gang of dark-skinned laborers at work unloading a car of steel. +These in the immediate foreground; and a little way apart, perched +high enough on the steep slope of the mountain side to be out of the +camp turmoil, a small structure, half plank and half canvas--to wit, +the end-of-track telegraph office. + +It was Virginia who first marked the boxed-up tent standing on the +slope. + +“What do you suppose that little house-tent is for?” she asked. + +“I don't know,” said Calvert. Then he saw the wires and ventured a +guess which hit the mark. + +“I didn't suppose they would have a telegraph office,” she commented, +with hope rising again. + +“Oh, yes; they'd have to have a wire--one of their own. Under the +circumstances they could hardly use ours.” + +“No,” she rejoined absently. She was scanning the group of +steel-handlers in the hope that a young man in a billy-cock hat and +with a cigarette between his lips would shortly reveal himself. She +found him after a time and turned quickly to her cousin. + +“There is Mr. Adams down by the engine. Do you think he would come +over and speak to us if he knew we were here?” + +The Reverend Billy's smile was of honest admiration. + +“How could you doubt it? Wait here a minute and I'll call him for +you.” + +He was gone before she could reply--across the ice-bridge spanning one +of the pools, and up the rough, frozen embankment of the new line. +There were armed guards here, too, as well as at the front, and one of +them halted him at the picket line. But Adams saw and recognized him, +and presently the two were crossing to where Virginia stood waiting +for them. + +“Eheu! what a little world we live in, Miss Virginia! Who would have +thought of meeting you here?” said Adams, taking her hand at the +precise elevation prescribed by good form--Boston good form. + +“The shock is mutual,” she laughed. “I must say that you and Mr. +Winton have chosen a highly unconventional environment for your +sketching-field.” + +“I'm down,” he admitted cheerfully; “please don't trample on me. But +really, it wasn't all fib. Jack does do things with a pencil--other +things besides maps and working profiles, I mean. Won't you come over +and let me do the honors of the studio?”--with a grandiloquent +arm-sweep meant to include the construction camp in general and the +“dinkey” caboose-car in particular. + +It was the invitation she would have angled for, but she was too wise +to assent too readily. + +“Oh, no; I think we mustn't. I'm afraid Mr. Winton might not like it.” + +“Not like it? If you'll come he'll never forgive himself for not being +here to 'shoot up' the camp for you in person. He is away, you know; +gone to Carbonate for the day.” + +“Ought we to go, Cousin Billy?” she asked, shifting, not the decision, +but the responsibility for it, to broader shoulders. + +“Why not, if you care to?” said the athlete, to whom right-of-way +fights were mere matters of business in no wise conflicting with the +social ameliorations. + +Virginia hesitated. There was a thing to be said to Mr. Adams, and +that without delay; but how could she say it with her cousin standing +by to make an impossible trio out of any attempted duet confidential? +A willingness to see that Winton had fair play need not carry with it +an open desertion to the enemy. She must not forget to be loyal to her +salt; and, besides, Mr. Somerville Darrah's righteous indignation was +a possibility not lightly to be ignored. + +But, the upshot of the hesitant pause was a decision to brave the +consequences--all of them; so she took Calvert's arm for the slippery +crossing of the ice-bridge. + +Once on his own domain, Adams did the honors of the camp as thoroughly +and conscientiously as if the hour held no care heavier than the +entertainment of Miss Virginia Carteret. He explained the system under +which the material was kept moving forward to the ever-advancing +front; let her watch the rhythmic swing and slide of the rails from +the car to the benches; took her up into the cab of the big “octopod” + locomotive; gave her a chance to peep into the camp kitchen car; and +concluded by handing her up the steps of the “dinkey.” + +“Oh, how comfortable!” she exclaimed, when he had shown her all the +space-saving contrivances of the field office. “And this is where you +and Mr. Winton work?” + +“It is where we eat and sleep,” corrected Adams. “And speaking of +eating: it is hopelessly the wrong end of the day,--or it would be in +Boston,--but our Chinaman won't know the difference. Let me have him +make you a dish of tea,”--and the order was given before she could +protest. + +“While we are waiting for Ah Foo I'll show you some of Jack's +sketches,” he went on, finding a portfolio and opening it upon the +drawing-board. + +“Are you quite sure Mr. Winton won't mind?” she asked. + +“Mind? He'd give a month's pay to be here to show them himself. He is +peacock vain of his one small accomplishment, Winton is--bores me to +death with it sometimes.” + +“Really?” was the mocking rejoinder, and they began to look at the +sketches. + +They were heads, most of them, impressionistic studies in pencil or +pastel, with now and then a pen-and-ink bearing evidence of more +painstaking after-work. They were made on bits of map paper, the backs +of old letters, and not a few on leaves torn from an engineer's +note-book. + +“They don't count for much in an artistic way,” said Adams, with the +brutal frankness of a friendly critic, “but they will serve to show +you that I wasn't all kinds of an embroiderer when I was telling you +about Winton's proclivities the other day.” + +“I shouldn't apologize for that, if I were you,” she retorted. “It is +well past apology, don't you think?” And then: “What is this one?” + +They had come to the last of the sketches, which was a rude map. It +was penciled on the leaf of a memorandum, and Adams recognized it as +the outline Winton had made and used in explaining the right-of-way +entanglement. + +“It is a map,” he said; “one that Jack drew day before yesterday when +he was trying to make me understand the situation up here. I wonder +why he kept it? Is there anything on the other side?” + +She turned the leaf, and they both went speechless for the moment. The +reverse of the scrap of cross-ruled paper held a very fair likeness of +a face which Virginia's mirror had oftenest portrayed: a sketch +setting forth in a few vigorous strokes of the pencil the +impressionist's ideal of the “goddess fresh from the bath.” + +“By Jove!” exclaimed Adams, when he could find the word for his +surprise. Then he tried to turn it off lightly. “There is a good bit +more of the artist in Jack than I have been giving him credit for. +Don't you know, he must have got the notion for that between two +half-seconds--when you recognized me on the platform at Kansas City. +It's wonderful!” + +“So very wonderful that I think I shall keep it,” she rejoined, not +without a touch of austerity. Then she added: “Mr. Winton will +probably never miss it. If he does, you will have to explain the best +way you can.” And Adams could only say “By Jove!” again, and busy +himself with pouring the tea which Ah Foo had brought in. + +In the nature of things the tea-drinking in the stuffy “dinkey” + drawing-room was not prolonged. Time was flying. Virginia's errand of +mercy was not yet accomplished, and Aunt Martha in her character of +anxious chaperon was not to be forgotten. Also, Miss Carteret had a +feeling that under his well-bred exterior Mr. Morton P. Adams was +chafing like any barbarian industry captain at this unwarrantable +intrusion and interruption. + +So presently they all forthfared into the sun-bright, snow-blinding, +out-of-door world, and Virginia gathered up her courage and took her +dilemma by the horns. + +“I believe I have seen everything now except that tent-place up +there,” she asserted, groping purposefully for her opening. + +Adams called up another smile of acquiescence. “That is our telegraph +office. Would you care to see it?” He was of those who shirk all or +shirk nothing. + +“I don't know why I should care to, but I do,” she replied, with +charming and childlike wilfulness; so the three of them trudged up the +slippery path to the operator's den on the slope. + +Not to evade his hospitable duty in any part, Adams explained the use +and need of a “front” wire, and Miss Carteret was properly interested. + +“How convenient!” she commented. “And you can come up here and talk to +anybody you like--just as if it were a telephone?” + +“To anyone in the company's service,” amended Adams. “It is not a +commercial wire.” + +“Then let us send a message to Mr. Winton,” she suggested, playing the +part of the capricious _ingenue_ to the very upcast of a pair of +mischievous eyes. “I'll write it and you may sign it.” + +Adams stretched his complaisance the necessary additional inch and +gave her a pencil and a pad of blanks. She wrote rapidly: + + “Miss Carteret has been here admiring your drawings. She took one of + them away with her, and I couldn't stop her without being rude. You + shouldn't have done it without asking her permission. She says--” + +“Oh, dear! I am making it awfully long. Does it cost so much a word?” + +“No,” said Adams, not without an effort. He was beginning to be +distinctly disappointed in Miss Virginia, and was inwardly wondering +what piece of girlish frivolity he was expected to sign and send to +his chief. Meanwhile she went on writing: + + “--I am to tell you not to get into any fresh trouble--not to let + anyone else get you into trouble; by which I infer she means that + some attempt will be made to keep you from returning on the evening + train.” + +“There, can you send all that?” she asked sweetly, giving the pad to +her host. + +Adams read the first part of the letter length telegram with inward +groanings, but the generous purpose of it struck him like a whip-blow +when he came to the thinly-veiled warning. Also it shamed him for his +unworthy judgment of Virginia. + +“I thank you very heartily, Miss Carteret,” he said humbly. “It shall +be sent word for word.” Then, for the Reverend William's benefit: +“Winton deserves all sorts of a snubbing for taking liberties with +your portrait. I'll see he gets more when he comes back.” + +Here the matter rested; and, having done what she conceived to be her +charitable duty, Virginia was as anxious to get away as heart--the +heart of a slightly bored Reverend Billy, for instance--could wish. + +So they bade Adams good-by and picked their way down the frozen +embankment and across the ice-bridge; down and across and back to the +Rosemary, where they found a perturbed chaperon in a flutter of +solicitude arising upon their mysterious disappearance and long +absence. + +“It may be just as well not to tell any of them where we have been,” + said Virginia in an aside to her cousin. And so the incident of +tea-drinking in the enemy's camp was safely put away like a little +personal note in its envelop with the flap gummed down. + + + + +VI. THE RAJAH GIVES AN ORDER + + +While Adams was dispensing commissary tea in iron-stone china cups to +his two guests in the “dinkey” field office, his chief, taking the +Rosemary's night run in reverse in the company of Town-Marshal Biggin, +was turning the Rajah's coup into a small Utah profit. + +Having come upon the ground late the night before, and from the +opposite direction, he had seen nothing of the extension grade west of +Argentine. Hence the enforced journey to Carbonate only anticipated an +inspection trip which he had intended to make as soon as he had seated +Adams firmly in the track-laying saddle. + +Not to miss his opportunity, at the first curve beyond Argentine he +passed his cigar-case to Biggin and asked permission to ride on the +rear platform of the day-coach for inspection purposes. + +“Say, pardner, what do you take me fer, anyhow?” was the reproachful +rejoinder. + +“For a gentleman in disguise,” said Winton promptly. + +“Sim'larly, I do you; savvy? You tell me you ain't goin' to stampede, +and you ride anywhere you blame please. See? This here C. G. R. outfit +ain't got no surcingle on me.” + +Winton smiled. + +“I haven't any notion of stampeding. As it happens, I'm only a day +ahead of time. I should have made this run to-morrow of my own accord +to have a look at the extension grade. You will find me on the rear +platform when you want me.” + +“Good enough,” was the reply; and Winton went to his post of +observation. + +Greatly to his satisfaction, he found that the trip over the C. G. R. +answered every purpose of a preliminary inspection of the Utah grade +beyond Argentine. For seventeen of the twenty miles the two lines were +scarcely more than a stone's throw apart, and when Biggin joined him +at the junction above Carbonate he had his note-book well filled with +the necessary data. + +“Make it, all right?” inquired the friendly bailiff. + +“Yes, thanks. Have another cigar?” + +“Don't care if I do. Say, that old fire-eater back yonder in the +private car has got a mighty pretty gal, ain't he?” + +“The young lady is his niece,” said Winton, wishing that Mr. Biggin +would find other food for comment. + +“I don't care; she's pretty as a Jersey two-year-old.” + +“It's a fine day,” observed Winton; and then, to background Miss +Carteret effectually as a topic: “How do the people of Argentine feel +about the opposition to our line?” + +“They're red-hot; you can put your money on that. The C. G. R.'s a +sure-enough tail-twister where there ain't no competition. Your +road'll get every pound of ore in the camp if it ever gets through.” + +Winton made a mental note of this up-cast of public opinion, and set +it over against the friendly attitude of the official Mr. Biggin. It +was very evident that the town-marshal was serving the Rajah's purpose +only because he had to. + +“I suppose you stand with your townsmen on that, don't you?” he +ventured. + +“Now you're shouting: that's me.” + +“Then if that is the case, we won't take this little holiday of ours +any harder than we can help. When the court business is settled--it +won't take very long--you are to consider yourself my guest. We stop +at the Buckingham.” + +“Oh, we do, do we? Say, pardner, that's white--mighty white. If I'd +'a' been an inch or so more'n half awake this morning when that old +b'iler-buster's hired man routed me out, I'd 'a' told him to go to +blazes with his warrant. Nex' time I will.” + +Winton shook his head. “There isn't going to be any 'next time,' +Peter, my son,” he prophesied. “When Mr. Darrah gets fairly down to +business he'll throw bigger chunks than the Argentine town-marshal at +us.” + +By this time the train was slowing into Carbonate, and a few minutes +after the stop at the crowded platform they were making their way up +the single bustling street of the town to the court-house. + +“Ever see so many tin-horns and bunco people bunched in all your +round-ups?” said Biggin, as they elbowed through the uneasy shifting +groups in front of the hotel. + +“Not often,” Winton admitted. “But it's the luck of the big camps: +they are the dumping-grounds of the world while the high pressure is +on.” + +The ex-range-rider turned on the courthouse steps to look the sidewalk +loungers over with narrowing eyes. + +“There's Sheeny Mike and Big Otto and half a dozen others right there +in front o' the Buckingham that couldn't stay to breathe twice in +Argentine. And this town's got a po-lice!”--the comment with +lip-curling scorn. + +“It also has a county court which is probably waiting for us,” said +Winton; whereupon they went in to appease the offended majesty of the +law. + +As Winton had predicted, his answer to the court summons was a mere +formality. On parting with his chief at the Argentine station +platform, Adams' first care had been to wire news of the arrest to the +Utah headquarters. Hence Winton found the company's attorney waiting +for him in Judge Whitcomb's courtroom, and his release on an +appearance bond was only a matter of moments. + +The legal affair dismissed, there ensued a weary interval of +time-killing. There was no train back to Argentine until nearly five +o'clock in the afternoon, and the hours dragged heavily for the two, +who had nothing to do but wait. Biggin endured his part of it manfully +till the midday dinner had been discussed; then he drifted off with +one of Winton's cigars between his teeth, saying that he should “take +poison” and shoot up the town if he could not find some more peaceful +means of keeping his blood in circulation. + +It was a little after three o'clock, and Winton was sitting at the +writing-table in the lobby of the hotel elaborating his hasty notebook +data of the morning's inspection, when a boy came in with a telegram. +The young engineer was not so deeply engrossed in his work as to be +deaf to the colloquy. + +“Mr. John Winton? Yes, he is here somewhere,” said the clerk in answer +to the boy's question; and after an identifying glance: “There he +is--over at the writing-table.” + +Winton turned in his chair and saw the boy coming toward him; also he +saw the ruffian pointed out by Biggin from the court-house steps and +labeled “Sheeny Mike” lounging up to the clerk's desk for a whispered +exchange of words with the bediamonded gentleman behind it. + +What followed was cataclysmic in its way. The lounger took three +staggering lurches toward Winton, brushed the messenger boy aside, and +burst out in a storm of maudlin invective. + +“Sign yerself 'Winton' now, do yet ye lowdown, turkey-trodden--” + +“One minute,” said Winton curtly, taking the telegram from the boy and +signing for it. + +“I'll give ye more'n ye can carry away in less'n half that time--see?” + was the minatory retort; and the threat was made good by an awkward +buffet which would have knocked the engineer out of his chair if he +had remained in it. + +Now Winton's eyes were gray and steadfast, but his hair was of that +shade of brown which takes the tint of dull copper in certain lights, +and he had a temper which went with the red in his hair rather than +with the gray in his eyes. Wherefore his attempt to placate his +assailant was something less than diplomatic. + +“You drunken scoundrel!” he snapped. “If you don't go about your +business and let me alone, I'll turn you over to the police with a +broken bone or two!” + +The bully's answer was a blow delivered straight from the shoulder--too +straight to harmonize with the fiction of drunkenness. Winton saw the +sober purpose in it and went battle-mad, as a hasty man will. Being a +skilful boxer,--which his antagonist was not,--he did what he had to +do neatly and with commendable despatch. Down, up; down, up; down a +third time, and then the bystanders interfered. + +“Hold on!” + +“That'll do!” + +“Don't you see he's drunk?” + +“Enough's as good as a feast--let him go.” + +Winton's blood was up, but he desisted, breathing threatenings. +Whereat Biggin shouldered his way into the circle. + +“Pay your bill and let's hike out o' this, _pronto_!” he said in a low +tone. “You ain't got no time to fool with a Carbonate justice shop.” + +But Winton was not to be brought to his senses so easily. + +“Run away from that swine? Not if I know it. Let him take it into +court if he wants to. I'll be there, too.” + +The beaten one was up now and apparently looking for an officer. + +“I'm takin' ye all to witness,” he rasped. “I was on'y askin' him to +cash up what he lost to me las' night, and he jumps me. But I'll stick +him if there's any law in this camp.” + +Now all this time Winton had been holding the unopened telegram +crumpled in his fist, but when Biggin pushed him out of the circle and +thrust him up to the clerk's desk, he bethought him to read the +message. It was Virginia's warning, signed by Adams, and a single +glance at the closing sentence was enough to cool him suddenly. + +“Pay the bill, Biggin, and join me in the billiard-room, quick!” he +whispered, pressing money into the town-marshal's hand and losing +himself in the crowd. And when Biggin had obeyed his instructions: +“Now for a back way out of this, if there is one. We'll have to take +to the hills till train time.” + +They found a way through the bar and out into a side street leading +abruptly up to the spruce-clad hills behind the town. Biggin held his +peace until they were safe from immediate danger of pursuit. Then his +curiosity got the better of him. + +“Didn't take you more'n a week to change your mind about pullin' it +off with that tinhorn scrapper in the courts, did it?” + +“No,” said Winton. + +“'Tain't none o' my business, but I'd like to know what stampeded +you.” + +“A telegram,”--shortly. “It was a put-up job to have me locked up on a +criminal charge, and so hold me out another day.” + +Biggin grinned. “The old b'iler-buster again. Say, he's a holy terror, +ain't he?” + +“He doesn't mean to let me build my railroad if he can help it.” + +The ex-cowboy found his sack of chip tobacco and dexterously rolled a +cigarette in a bit of brown wrapping-paper. + +“If that's the game, Mr. Sheeny Mike, or his backers, will be most +likely to play it to a finish, don't you guess?” + +“How?” + +“By havin' a po-liceman layin' for you at the train.” + +“I hadn't thought of that.” + +“Well, I can think you out of it, I reckon. The branch train is a +'commodation, and it'll stop most anywhere if you throw up your hand +at it. We can take out through the woods and across the hills, and mog +up the track a piece. How'll that do?” + +“It will do for me, but there is no need of your tramping when you can +just as well ride.” + +But now that side of Mr. Peter Biggin which endears him and his kind +to every man who has ever shared his lonely round-ups, or broken bread +with him in his comfortless shack, came uppermost. + +“What do you take me fer?” was the way it vocalized itself; but there +was more than a formal oath of loyal allegiance in the curt question. + +“For a man and a brother,” said Winton heartily; and they set out +together to waylay the outgoing train at some point beyond the danger +limit. + +It was accomplished without further mishap, and the short winter day +was darkening to twilight when the train came in sight and the +engineer slowed to their signal. They climbed aboard, and when they +had found a seat in the smoker the chief of construction spoke to the +ex-cowboy as to a friend. + +“I hope Adams has knocked out a good day's work for us,” he said. + +“Your pardner with the store hat and the stinkin' cigaroots?--he's all +right,” said Biggin; and it so chanced that at the precise moment of +the saying the subject of it was standing with the foreman of +track-layers at a gap in the new line just beyond and above the +Rosemary's siding at Argentine, his day's work ended, and his men +loaded on the flats for the run down to camp over the lately-laid +rails of the lateral loop. + +“Not such a bad day, considering the newness of us and the bridge at +the head of the gulch,” he said, half to himself. And then more +pointedly to the foreman: “Bridge-builders to the front at the first +crack of dawn, Mike. Why wasn't this break filled in the grading?” + +“Sure, sorr, 'tis a dhrain it is,” said the Irishman; “from the placer +up beyant,” he added, pointing to a washed-out excoriation on the +steep upper slope of the mountain. “Major Evarts did be tellin' us +we'd have the lawyers afther us hot-fut again if we didn't be lavin' +ut open the full width.” + +“Mmph!” said Adams, looking the ground over with a critical eye. “It's +a bad bit. It wouldn't take much to bring that whole slide down on us +if it wasn't frozen solid. Who owns the placer?” + +“Two fellies over in Carbonate. The company did be thryin' to buy the +claim, but the sharps wouldn't sell--bein' put up to hold ut by thim +C. G. R. divils. It's more throuble we'll be havin' here, I'm +thinking.” + +While they lingered a shrill whistle, echoing like an eldrich laugh +among the cliffs of the upper gorge, announced the coming of a train +from the direction of Carbonate. Adams looked at his watch. + +“I'd like to know what that is,” he mused. “It's an hour too soon for +the accommodation. By Jove!” + +The exclamation directed itself at a one-car train which came +thundering down the canyon to pull in on the siding beyond the +Rosemary. The car was a passenger coach, well-lighted, and from his +post on the embankment Adams could see armed men filling the windows. +Michael Branagan saw them, too, and the fighting Celt in him rose to +the occasion. + +“'Tis Donnybrook Fair we've come to this time, Misther Adams. Shall I +call up the b'ys wid their guns?” + +“Not yet. Let's wait and see what happens.” + +What happened was a peaceful sortie. Two men, each with a kit of some +kind borne in a sack, dropped from the car, crossed the creek, and +struggled up the hill through the unbridged gap. Adams waited until +they were fairly on the right of way, then he called down to them. + +“Halt, there! you two. This is corporation property.” + +“Not much it ain't!” retorted one of the trespassers gruffly. “It's +the drain-way from our placer up yonder.” + +“What are you going to do up there at this time of night?” + +“None o' your blame business!” was the explosive counter-shot. + +“Perhaps it isn't,” said Adams mildly. “Just the same, I'm thirsting +to know. Call it vulgar curiosity if you like.” + +“All right, you can know, and be cussed to you. We're goin' to work +our claim. Got anything to say against it?” + +“Oh! no,” rejoined Adams; and when the twain had disappeared in the +upper darkness he went down the grade with Branagan and took his place +on the man-loaded flats for the run to the construction camp, thinking +more of the lately-arrived car with its complement of armed men than +of the two miners who had calmly announced their intention of working +a placer claim on a high mountain, without water, and in the dead of +winter! By which it will be seen that Mr. Morton P. Adams, +C. E. M. I. T. Boston, had something yet to learn in the matter of +practical field work. + +By the time Ah Foo had served him his solitary supper in the dinkey he +had quite forgotten the incident of the mysterious placer miners. +Worse than this, it had never occurred to him to connect their +movements with the Rajah's plan of campaign. On the other hand, he was +thinking altogether of the carload of armed men, and trying to devise +some means of finding out how they were to be employed in furthering +the Rajah's designs. + +The means suggested themselves after supper, and he went alone over to +Argentine to spend a half-hour in the bar of the dance-hall listening +to the gossip of the place. When he had learned what he wanted to +know, he forthfared to meet Winton at the incoming train. + +“We are in for it now,” he said, when they had crossed the creek to +the dinkey and the Chinaman was bringing Winton's belated supper. “The +Rajah has imported a carload of armed mercenaries, and he is going to +clean us all out to-morrow: arrest everybody from the gang foremen +up.” + +Winton's eyebrows lifted. “So? that is a pretty large contract. Has he +men enough to do it?” + +“Not so many men. But they are sworn-in deputies, with the sheriff of +Ute County in command--a posse, in fact. So he has the law on his +side.” + +“Which is more than he had when he set a thug on me this afternoon at +Carbonate,” said Winton sourly; and he told Adams about the +misunderstanding in the lobby of the Buckingham. His friend whistled +under his breath. “By Jove! that's pretty rough. Do you suppose the +Rajah dictated any such Lucretia Borgia thing as that?” + +Winton took time to think about it and admitted a doubt, as he had not +before. Believing Mr. Somerville Darrah fit for treasons, stratagems, +and spoils in his official capacity of vice-president of a fighting +corporation, he was none the less disposed to find excuses for Miss +Virginia Carteret's uncle. + +“I did think so at first, but I guess it was only the misguided zeal +of some understrapper. Of course, word has gone out all along the +C. G. R. line that we are to be delayed by every possible expedient.” + +But Adams shook his head. + +“Mr. Darrah dictated that move in his own proper person.” + +“How do you know that?” + +“You had a message from me this afternoon?” + +“I did.” + +“What did you think of it?” + +“I thought you might have left out the first part of it; also that you +might have made the latter half a good bit more explicit.” + +A slow smile spread itself over Adams' impassive face. + +“Every man has his limitations,” he said. “I did the best I could. But +the Rajah knew very well what he was about--otherwise there would have +been no telegram.” + +Winton sent the Chinaman out for another cup of tea before he said, +“Did Miss Carteret come here alone?” + +“Oh, no; Calvert came with her.” + +“What brought them here?” + +Adams spread his hands. + +“What makes any woman do precisely the most unexpected thing?” + +Winton was silent for a moment. Finally he said: “I hope you did what +you could to make it pleasant for her.” + +“I did. And I didn't hear her complain.” + +“That was low-down in you, Morty.” + +Adams chuckled reminiscently. “Had to do it to make my day-before-yesterday +lie hold water. And she was immensely taken with the scrawls, especially +with one of them.” + +Winton flushed under the bronze. + +“I suppose I don't need to ask which one.” + +Adams' grin was a measure of his complacence. + +“Well, hardly.” + +“She took it away with her?” + +“Took it, or tore it up, I forget which.” + +“Tell me, Morty, was she very angry?” + +The other took the last hint of laughter out of his eyes before he +said solemnly: “You'll never know how thankful I was that you were +twenty miles away.” + +Winton's cup was full, and he turned the talk abruptly to the +industrial doings and accomplishments of the day. Adams made a verbal +report which led him by successive steps up to the twilight hour when +he had stood with Branagan on the brink of the placer drain, but, +strangely enough, there was no stirring of memory to recall the +incident of the upward-climbing miners. + +When Winton rose he said something about mounting a night guard on the +engine, which was kept under steam at all hours; and shortly afterward +he left the dinkey ostensibly to do it, declining Adams' offer of +company. But once out-of-doors he climbed straight to the operator's +tent on the snow-covered slope. Carter had turned in, but he sat up in +his bunk at the noise of the intrusion. + +“That you, Mr. Winton? Want to send something?” he asked. + +“No, go to sleep. I'll write a wire and leave it for you to send in +the morning.” + +He sat down at the packing-case instrument table and wrote out a brief +report of the day's progress in track-laying for the general manager's +record. But when Carter's regular breathing told him he was alone he +pushed the pad aside, took down the sending-hook, and searched until +he had found the original copy of the message which had reached him at +the moment of cataclysms in the lobby of the Buckingham. + +“Um,” he said, and his heart grew warm within him. “It's just about as +I expected: Morty didn't have anything whatever to do with it--except +to sign and send it as she commanded him to.” And the penciled sheet +was folded carefully and filed in permanence in the inner breast +pocket of his brown duck shooting-coat. + +The moon was rising behind the eastern mountain when he extinguished +the candle and went out. Below lay the chaotic construction camp +buried in silence and in darkness save for the lighted windows of the +dinkey. He was not quite ready to go back to Adams, and after making a +round of the camp and bidding the engine watchman keep a sharp lookout +against a possible night surprise, he set out to walk over the +newly-laid track of the day. + +Another half-hour had elapsed, and a waning moon was clearing the +topmost crags of Pacific Peak when he came out on the high embankment +opposite the Rosemary, having traversed the entire length of the +lateral loop and inspected the trestle at the gulch head by the light +of a blazing spruce-branch. + +The station with its two one-car trains, and the shacks of the little +mining-camp beyond, lay shimmering ghost-like in the new-born light of +the moon. The engine of the sheriff's car was humming softly with a +note like the distant swarming of bees, and from the dancehall in +Argentine the snort of a trombone and the tinkling clang of a cracked +piano floated out upon the frosty night air. + +Winton turned to go back. The windows of the Rosemary were all dark, +and there was nothing to stay for. So he thought, at all events; but +if he had not been musing abstractedly upon things widely separated +from his present surroundings, he might have remarked two tiny stars +of lantern-light high on the placer ground above the embankment; or, +failing the sight, he might have heard the dull, measured _slumph_ +of a churn-drill burrowing deep in the frozen earth of the slope. + +As it was, a pair of brown eyes blinded him, and the tones of a voice +sweeter than the songs of Oberon's sea-maid filled his ears. Wherefore +he neither saw nor heard; and taking the short cut across the mouth of +the lateral gulch back to camp, he boarded the dinkey and went to bed +without disturbing Adams. + +The morning of the day to come broke clear and still, with the stars +paling one by one at the pointing finger of the dawn, and the +frost-rime lying thick and white like a snowfall of erect and +glittering needles on iron and steel and wood. + +Obedient to orders, the bridge-builders were getting out their +hand-car at the construction camp, the wheels shrilling merrily on the +frosted rails, and the men stamping and swinging their arms to start +the sluggish night-blood. Suddenly, like the opening gun of a battle, +the dull rumble of a mighty explosion trembled upon the still air, +followed instantly by a sound as of a passing avalanche. + +Winton was out and running up the track before the camp was fairly +aroused. What he saw when he gained the hither side of the lateral +gulch was a sight to make a strong man weep. A huge landslide, +starting from the frozen placer ground high up on the western +promontory, had swept every vestige of track and embankment into the +deep bed of the creek at a point precisely opposite Mr. Somerville +Darrah's private car. + + + + +VII. THE MAJESTY OF THE LAW + + +Virginia was up and dressed when the sullen shock of the explosion +set the windows jarring in the Rosemary. + +She hurried out upon the observation platform and so came to look +upon the ruin wrought by the landslide while the dust-like smoke of +the dynamite still hung in the air. + +“Rather unlucky for our friends the enemy,” said a colorless voice +behind her; and she had an uncomfortable feeling that Jastrow had +been lying in wait for her. + +She turned upon him quickly. + +“Was it an accident, Mr. Jastrow?” + +“How could it be anything else?” he inquired mildly. + +“I don't know. But there was an explosion: I heard it.” + +“It is horribly unfair,” she went on. “I understand the sheriff is +here. Couldn't he have prevented this?” + +The secretary's rejoinder was a platitude: “Everything is fair in +love or war.” + +“But this is neither,” she retorted. + +“Think not?” he said coolly. “Wait, and you'll see. And a word in +your ear, Miss Carteret: you are one of us, you know, and you mustn't +be disloyal. I know what you did yesterday after you read those +telegrams.” + +Virginia's face became suddenly wooden. Until that moment it had not +occurred to her that Jastrow's motive in showing her the two telegrams +might have been carefully calculated. + +“I have never given you the right to speak to me that way, Mr. +Jastrow,” she said, with the faintest possible emphasis on the +courtesy prefix; and with that she turned from him to focus her +field-glass on the construction camp below. + +At the Utah stronghold all was activity of the fiercest. Winton had +raced back with his news of the catastrophe, and the camp was alive +with men clustering like bees and swarming upon the flat-cars of the +material-train to be taken to the front. + +While she looked, studiously ignoring the man behind her, Virginia +saw the big octopod engine clamoring up the grade. In a twinkling +the men were off and at work. + +Virginia's color rose and the brown eyes filled swiftly. One part +of her ideal was courage of the sort that rises the higher for +reverses. But at the instant she remembered the secretary, and, lest +he should spy upon her emotion, she turned and took refuge in the +car. + +In the Rosemary the waiter was laying the plates for breakfast, and +Bessie and the Reverend William were at the window, watching the +stirring industry battle now in full swing on the opposite slope. +Virginia joined them. + +“Isn't it a shame!” she said. “Of course, I want our side to win; +but it seems such a pity that we can't fight fairly.” + +Calvert said, “Isn't what a shame?” thereby eliciting a crisp +explanation from Virginia in which she set well-founded suspicion +in the light of fact. + +The Reverend Billy shook his head. + +“Such things may be within the law--of business; but they will surely +breed bad blood--” + +The interruption was the Rajah in his proper person, bustling out +fiercely to a conference with his Myrmidons. By tacit consent the +three at the window fell silent. + +There was a hasty mustering of armed men under the windows of the +Rosemary, and they heard Sheriff Deckert's low-voiced instructions +to his posse. + +“Take it slow and easy, boys, and don't get rattled. Now, then; guns +to the front! Steady!” + +The Reverend Billy rose. + +“What are you going to do?” said Virginia. + +“I'm going to give Winton a tip if it's the last thing I ever do.” + +She shook her head and pointed eastward to the mouth of the lateral +gulch. Under cover of a clump of evergreen-scrub a man in a +wideflapped hat and leather breeches was climbing swiftly to the level +of the new line, cautiously waving a handkerchief as a peace token. +“That is the man who arrested Mr. Winton yesterday. This time he is +going to fight on the other side. He'll carry the warning.” + +“Think so?” said Calvert. + +“I am sure of it. Open the window, please. I want to see better.” + +As yet there was no sign of preparation on the embankment. For the +moment the rifles of the track force were laid aside, and every man +was plying pick or shovel. + +Winton was in the thick of the pick-and-shovel melee, urging it on, +when Biggin ran up. + +“Hi!” he shouted. “Fixin' to take another play-day in Carbonate? +Lookee down yonder!” + +Winton looked and became alive to the possibilities in the turning +of a leaf. + +“Guns!” he yelled; and at the word of command the tools were flung +aside, and the track force, over two hundred strong, became an army. + +“Mulcahey, take half the men and go up the grade till you can rake +those fellows without hitting the car. Branagan, you take the other +half and go down till you can cross-fire with Mulcahey. Aim low, both +of you; and the man who fires before he gets the word from me will +break his neck at a rope's end. Fall in!” + +“By Jove!” said Adams. “Are you going to resist? That spells felony, +doesn't it?” + +Winton pointed to the waiting octopod. + +“I'm going to order the Two-fifteen down out of the way: you may go +with her if you like.” + +“I guess not!” quoth the assistant, calmly lighting a fresh cigarette. +And then to the water-boy, who was acting quartermaster: “Give me +a rifle and a cartridge-belt, Chunky, and I'll stay here with the +boss.” + +“And where do I come in?” said Biggin to Winton reproachfully. + +“You'll stay out, if your head's level. You've done enough already +to send you to Canyon City.” + +“I ain't a-forgettin' nothing,” said Peter cheerfully, casting himself +flat behind a heap of earth on the dump-edge. + +While the sheriff's posse was picking its way gingerly over the loose +rock and earth dam formed by the landslide, the window went up in +the Rosemary and Winton saw Virginia. Without meaning to, she gave +him his battle-word. + +“We are a dozen Winchesters to your one, Mr. Deckert, and we shall +resist force with force. Order your men back or there will be +trouble.” + +Winton stood out on the edge of the cutting, a solitary figure where +a few minutes before the earth had been flying from a hundred shovels. + +The sheriff's reply was an order, but not for retreat. + +“He's one of the men we want; cover him!” he commanded. + +Unless the public occasion appeals strongly to the sympathies or the +passions, a picked-up sheriff's posse is not likely to have very good +metal in it. Peter Biggin laughed. + +“Don't be no ways nervous,” he said in an aside to Winton. “Them +professional veniry chumps couldn't hit the side o' Pacific Peak.” + +Winton held his ground, while the sheriff tried to drive his men up +a bare slope commanded by two hundred rifles to right and left. The +attempt was a humiliating failure. Being something less than soldiers +trained to do or die, the deputies hung back to a man. + +Virginia could not forbear a smile. The sheriff burst into caustic +profanity. Whereupon Mr. Peter Biggin rose up and sent a bullet to +plow a little furrow in the ice within an inch of Deckert's heels. + +“Ex-cuse _me_, Bart,” he drawled, “but no cuss words don't go.” + +The sheriff ignored Peter Biggin as a person who could be argued with +at leisure and turned to Winton. + +“Come down!” he bellowed. + +Winton laughed. + +“Let me return the invitation. Come up, and you may read your warrants +to us all day.” + +Deckert withdrew his men, and at Winton's signal the track-layers +came in and the earth began to fly again. + +Virginia sighed her relief, and Bessie plucked up courage to go to +the window, which she had deserted in the moment of impending battle. + +“Breakfast is served,” announced the waiter as calmly as if the +morning meal were the only matter of consequence in a world of +happenings. + +They gathered about the table, a silent trio made presently a quartet +by the advent of Mrs. Carteret, who had neither seen nor heard +anything of the warlike episode with which the day had begun. + +Mr. Darrah was late, so late that when he came in, Virginia was the +only one of the four who remained at table. She stayed to pour his +coffee and to bespeak peace. + +“Uncle Somerville, can't we win without calling in these horrid men +with their guns?” + +A mere shadow of a grim smile came and went in the Rajah's eyes. + +“An unprejudiced outsideh might say that the 'horrid men with their +guns' were on top of that embankment, my deah--ten to ouh one,” he +remarked. + +“But I should think we might win in some other way,” Virginia +persisted undauntedly. + +Mr. Darrah pushed his plate aside and cleared his throat. + +“For business reasons which you--ah--wouldn't undehstand, we can't +let the Utah finish this railroad of theirs into Carbonate this +winteh.” + +“So much I have inferred. But Mr. Winton seems to be very determined.” + +“Mmph! I wish Mr. Callowell had favehed us with some one else--any +one else. That young fellow is a bawn fighteh, my deah.” + +Virginia had a bright idea, and she advanced it without examining +too closely into its ethical part. + +“Mr. Winton is working for wages, isn't he?” she asked. + +“Of cou'se; big money, at that. His sawt come high.” + +“Well, why can't you hire him away from the other people? Mr. +Callowell might not be so fortunate next time.” + +The Rajah sat back in his chair and regarded her thoughtfully. + +“What is it?” she asked. + +“Nothing my deah--nothing at all. I was just wondering how a +woman's--ah--sense of propo'tion was put togetheh. But your plan has +merit. Do I understand that you will faveh me with your help?” + +“Why, ye-es, certainly, if I can,” she assented, not without dubiety. +“That is, I'll be nice to Mr. Winton.” + +“That is precisely what I mean, my deah. We'll begin by having him +heah to dinneh this evening, him and the otheh young man--what's his +name?--Adams.” + +And the upshot of the matter was a dainty note which found its way +by the hands of the private-car porter to Winton, laboring manfully +at his task of repairing the landslide damages. + +“Mr. Somerville Darrah's compliments to Mr. John Winton and Mr. Morton +P. Adams, and he will be pleased if they will dine with the party +in the car Rosemary at seven o'clock. + +“Informal. + +“Wednesday, December the Ninth.” + + + + +VIII. THE GREEKS BRINGING GIFTS + + +Adams said “By Jove!” in his most cynical drawl when Winton gave him +the dinner-bidding to read: then he laughed. + +Winton recovered the dainty note, folding it carefully and putting it +in his pocket. The handwriting was the same as that of the telegram +abstracted from Operator Carter's sending-book. + +“I don't see anything to laugh at,” he objected. + +“No? First the Rajah sends the sheriff's posse packing without +striking a blow, and now he invites us to dinner.” + +“You make me exceedingly tired at odd moments, Morty. Why can't you +give Mr. Darrah the credit of being what he really is at bottom--a +right-hearted Virginia gentleman of the old school?” + +“You don't mean that you are going to accept!” said Adams, aghast. + +“Certainly; and so are you.” + +There was no more to be said, and Adams held his peace while Winton +scribbled a line of acceptance on a leaf of his note-book and sent it +across to the Rosemary by the hand of the water-boy. + +Their reception at the steps of the Rosemary was a generous proof of +the aptness of that aphorism which sums up the status _post bellum_ in +the terse phrase, “After war, peace.” Mr. Darrah met them; was +evidently waiting for them. + +“Come in, gentlemen; come in and be at home,”--this with a hand for +each. “Virginia allowed you wouldn't faveh us, but I assured her she +didn't rightly know men of the world: told her that a picayune +business affair in which we are all acting as corporation proxies +needn't spell out anything like a blood feud between gentlemen.” + +For another man the informal table gathering might have been easily +prohibitive of confidences _a deux_, even with a Virginia Carteret to +help, but Winton was far above the trammelings of time and place. He +had eyes and ears only for the sweet-faced, low-voiced young woman +beside him, and some of his replies to the others were irrelevant +enough to send a smile around the board. + +“How very absent-minded Mr. Winton seems to be this evening!” murmured +Bessie from her niche between Adams and the Reverend Billy at the +farther end of the table. “He isn't quite at his best, is he, Mr. +Adams?” + +“No, indeed,” said Adams, matching her undertone, “very far from it. +He has been a bit off all day: touch of mountain fever, I'm afraid.” + +“But he doesn't look at all ill,” objected Miss Bessie. “I should say +he is a perfect picture of rude health.” + +The coffee was served, and Mrs. Carteret was rising. Whereupon Miss +Virginia handed her cup to Adams, and so had him for her companion in +the tete-a-tete chair, leaving Winton to shift for himself. + +The shifting process carried him over to the Rajah and the Reverend +Billy, to a small table in a corner of the compartment, and the +enjoyment of a mild cigar. + +Later, when Calvert had been eliminated by Miss Bessie, Winton looked +to see the true inwardness of the dinner-bidding made manifest by his +host. + +But Mr. Darrah chatted on, affably noncommittal, and after a time +Winton began to upbraid himself for suspecting the ulterior motive. +And when he finally rose to excuse himself on a letter-writing plea, +his leave-taking was that of the genial host reluctant to part company +with his guest. + +“I've enjoyed your conve'sation, seh; enjoyed it right much. May I +hope you will faveh us often while we are neighbors?” + +Winton rose, made the proper acknowledgments, and would have crossed +the compartment to make his adieus to Mrs. Carteret. But at that +moment Virginia came between. + +“You are not going yet, are you, Mr. Winton? Don't hurry. If you are +dying to smoke a pipe, as Mr. Adams says you are, we can go out on the +platform. It isn't too cold, is it?” + +“It is clear and frosty, a beautiful night,” he hastened to say. “May +I help you with your coat?” + +So presently Winton had his heart's desire, which was to be alone with +Virginia. + +She nerved herself for the plunge,--her uncle's plunge. + +“Your part in the building of this other railroad is purely a business +affair, is it not?” + +“My personal interest? Quite so; a mere matter of dollars and cents, +you may say.” + +“If you should have another offer, from some other company--” + +“That is not your argument; it is Mr. Darrah's. You know well enough +what is involved: honor, integrity, good faith, everything a man +values, or should value. I can't believe you would ask such a +sacrifice of me--of any man. + +“Indeed, I do not ask it, Mr. Winton. But it is only fair that you +should have your warning. My uncle will leave no stone unturned to +defeat you.” + +He was still looking into her eyes, and so had courage to say what +came uppermost. + +“I don't care: I shall fight him as hard as I can, but I shall always +be his debtor for this evening. Do you understand?” + +In a flash her mood changed and she laughed lightly. + +“Who would think it of you, Mr. Winton. Of all men I should have said +you were the last to care so much for the social diversions. Shall we +go in?” + + + + +IX. THE BLOCK SIGNAL. +If Mr. John Winton, C. E., stood in need of a moral tonic, as Adams +had so delicately intimated to Miss Bessie Carteret, it was +administered in quantity sufficient before he slept on the night of +dinner-givings. + +For a clear-eyed theorist, free from all heart-trammelings and able to +grasp the unsentimental fact, the enemy's new plan of campaign wrote +itself quite legibly. With his pick and choice among the time-killing +expedients the Rajah could scarcely have found one more to his purpose +than the private car Rosemary, including in its passenger list a Miss +Virginia Carteret. + +All of which Adams, substituting friendly frankness for the +disciplinary traditions of the service, set forth in good Bostonian +English for the benefit and behoof of his chief, and was answered +according to his deserts with scoffings and deridings. + +“I wasn't born yesterday, Morty, and I'm not so desperately asinine as +you seem to think,” was the besotted one's summing-up. “I know the +Rajah doesn't split hairs in a business fight, but he is hardly +unscrupulous enough to use Miss Carteret as a cat's-paw.” + +But Adams would not be scoffed aside so easily. + +“You're off in your estimate of Mr. Darrah, Jack, 'way off. I know the +tradition: that a Southern gentleman is all chivalry when it comes to +a matter touching his womankind, and I don't controvert it as a +general proposition. But the Rajah has been a fighting Western +railroad magnate so long that his accent is about the only Southern +asset he has retained. If I'm any good at guessing, he will stick at +nothing to gain his end.” + +Winton admitted the impeachment without prejudice to his own point of +view. + +“Perhaps you are right. But forewarned is forearmed. And Miss Virginia +is not going to lend herself to any such nefarious scheme.” + +“Not consciously, perhaps; but you don't know her yet. If she saw a +good chance to take the conceit out of you, she'd improve it--without +thinking overmuch of the possible consequences to the Utah company.” + +“Pshaw!” said Winton. “That is another of your literary inferences. +I've met her only twice, yet I venture to say I know her better than +you do. If she cared anything for me--which she doesn't--” + +“Oh, go to sleep!” said Adams, who was not minded to argue further +with a man besotted; and so the matter went by default for the time. + +But in the days that followed, days in which the sun rose and set in +cloudless winter splendor and the heavy snows still held aloof, Adams' +prediction wrought itself out into sober fact. After the single appeal +to force, Mr. Darrah seemed to give up the fight. None the less, the +departure of the Rosemary was delayed, and its hospitable door was +always open to the Utah chief of construction and his assistant. + +It was very deftly done, and even Adams, the clear-eyed, could not +help admiring the Rajah's skilful finesse. Of formal dinner-givings +there might easily have been an end, since the construction camp had +nothing to offer in return. But the formalities were studiously +ignored, and the two young men were put upon a footing of intimacy and +encouraged to come and go as they pleased. + +Winton took his welcome broadly, as what lover would not? and within a +week was spending most of his evenings in the Rosemary--this at a time +when every waking moment of the day and night was deeply mortgaged to +the chance of success. For now that the Rajah had withdrawn his +opposition, Nature and the perversity of inanimate things had taken a +hand, and for a fortnight the work of track-laying paused fairly +within sight of the station at Argentine. + +First it was a carload of steel accidentally derailed and dumped into +Quartz Creek at precisely the worst possible point in the lower +canyon, a jagged, rock-ribbed, cliff-bound gorge where each separate +piece of metal had to be hoisted out singly by a derrick erected for +the purpose--a process which effectually blocked the track for three +entire days. Next it was another landslide (unhelped by dynamite, +this) just above the station, a crawling cataract of loose, sliding +shale which, painstakingly dug out and dammed with plank bulkhead +during the day, would pour down and bury bulkhead, buttresses, and the +very right of way in the night. + +In his right mind--the mind of an ambitious young captain of industry +who sees defeat with dishonor staring him in the face--Winton would +have fought all the more desperately for these hindrances. But, +unfortunately, he was no longer an industry captain with an eye single +to success. He was become that anomaly despised of the working +world--a man in love. + +“It's no use shutting our eyes to the fact, Jack,” said Adams one +evening, when his chief was making ready for his regular descent upon +the Rosemary. “We shall have to put night shifts at work on that +shale-slide if we hope ever to get past it with the rails.” + +“Hang the shale!” was the impatient rejoinder. “I'm no galley slave.” + +Adams' slow smile came and went in cynical ripplings. + +“It is pretty difficult to say precisely what you are just now. But I +can prophesy what you are going to be if you don't wake up and come +alive.” + +Having no reply to this, Adams went back to the matter of night +shifts. + +“If you will authorize it, I'll put a night gang on and boss it +myself. What do you say?” + +“I say you are no end of a good fellow, Morty. And that's the plain +fact. I'll do as much for you some time.” + +“I'll be smashed if you will--you'll never get the chance. When I let +a pretty girl make a fool of me--” + +But the door of the dinkey slammed behind the outgoing one, and the +prophet of evil was left to organize his night assault on the +shale-slide, and to command it as best he could. + +So, as we say, the days, days of stubborn toil with the enthusiasm +taken out, slipped away unfruitful. Of the entire Utah force Adams +alone held himself up to the mark, and being only second in command, +he was unable to keep the bad example of the chief from working like +a leaven of inertness among the men. Branagan voiced the situation in +rich brogue one evening when Adams had exhausted his limited +vocabulary of abuse on the force for its apathy. “'Tis no use, ava, +Misther Adams. If you was the boss himself 'twould be you as would put +the comether on thim too quick. But it's 'like masther, like mon.' The +b'ys all know that Misther Winton don't care a damn; and they'll not +be hurtin' thimselves wid the wurrk.” + +And the Rajah? Between his times of smoking high-priced cigars with +Winton in the lounging-room of the Rosemary, he was swearing Jubilates +in the privacy of his working-den state-room, having tri-daily weather +reports wired to him by way of Carbonate and Argentine station, and +busying himself in the intervals with sending and receiving sundry +mysterious telegrams in cipher. + +Thus Mr. Somerville Darrah, all going well for him until one fateful +morning when he made the mistake of congratulating his ally. Then--but +we picture the scene: Mr. Darrah late to his breakfast, being just in +from an early-morning reconnaissance of the enemy's advancings; +Virginia sitting opposite to pour his coffee. All the others vanished +to some limbo of their own. + +The Rajah rubbed his hands delightedly. + +“We are coming on famously, famously, my deah Virginia. Two weeks +gone, heavy snows predicted for the mountain region, and nothing, +practically nothing at all, accomplished on the otheh side of the +canyon. When you marry, my deah, you shall have a block of C. G. R. +preferred stock to keep you in pin-money.” + +“I?” she queried. “But, Uncle Somerville, I don't understand--” + +The Rajah laughed. + +“That was a very pretty blush, my deah. Bless your innocent soul, if +I were young Misteh Winton, I'm not sure but I should consideh the +game well lost.” + +She was gazing at him wide-eyed now, and the blush had left a pallor +behind it. + +“You mean that I--that I--” + +“I mean that you are a helpeh worth having, Miss Carteret. Anotheh +time Misteh Winton won't pay cou't to a cha'ming young girl and try to +build a railroad at one and the same moment, I fancy. Hah!” + +The startled eyes veiled themselves swiftly, and Virginia's voice sank +to its softest cadence. + +“Have I been an accomplice,” she began, “in this--this despicable +thing, Uncle Somerville?” + +Mr. Darrah began a little to see his mistake. + +“Ah--an accomplice? Oh, no, my deah Virginia, not quite that. The word +smacks too much of the po-lice cou'ts. Let us say that Misteh Winton +has found your company mo' attractive than that of his laborehs, and +commend his good taste in the matteh.” + +So much he said by way of damping down the fire he had so rashly +lighted. Then Jastrow came in with one of the interminable cipher +telegrams and Virginia was left alone. + +For a time she sat at the deserted breakfast-table, dry-eyed, +hot-hearted, thinking such thoughts as would come crowding thickly +upon the heels of such a revelation. Winton would fail: a man with +honor, good repute, his entire career at stake, as he himself had +admitted, would go down to miserable oblivion and defeat, lacking some +friendly hand to smite him alive to a sense of his danger. And, in her +uncle's estimation, at least, she, Virginia Carteret, would figure as +the Delilah triumphant. + +She rose, tingling to her finger-tips with the shame of it, went to +her state-room, and found her writing materials. In such a crisis her +methods could be as direct as a man's. Winton was coming again that +evening. He must be stopped and sent about his business. + +So she wrote him a note, telling him he must not come--a note man-like +in its conciseness, and yet most womanly in its failure to give even +the remotest hint of the new and binding reason why he must not come. +And just before luncheon an obliging Cousin Billy was prevailed upon +to undertake its delivery. + +When he had found Winton at the shale-slide, and had given him Miss +Carteret's mandate, the Reverend Billy did not return directly to the +Rosemary. On the contrary, he extended his tramp westward, stumbling +on aimlessly up the canyon over the unsurfaced embankment of the new +line. + +Truth to tell, Virginia's messenger was not unwilling to spend a +little time alone with the immensities. To put it baldly, he was +beginning to be desperately cloyed with the sweets of a day-long Miss +Bessie, ennuyé on the one hand and despondent on the other. + +Why could not the Cousin Bessies see, without being told in so many +words, that the heart of a man may have been given in times long past +to another woman?--to a Cousin Virginia, let us say. And why must the +Cousin Virginias, passing by the lifelong devotion of a kinsman lover, +throw themselves--if one must put it thus brutally--fairly at the head +of an acquaintance of a day? + +So questioning the immensities, the Reverend Billy came out after some +little time in a small upland valley where the two lines, old and new, +ran parallel at the same level, with low embankments less than a +hundred yards apart. + +Midway of the valley the hundred-yard interspace was bridged by a +hastily-constructed spur track starting from a switch on the Colorado +and Grand River main line, and crossing the Utah right of way at a +broad angle. On this spur, at its point of intersection with the new +line, stood a heavy locomotive, steam up, and manned in every inch of +its standing-room by armed guards. + +The situation explained itself, even to a Reverend Billy. The Rajah +had not been idle during the interval of dinner-givings and social +divagations. He had acquired the right of way across the Utah's line +for his blockading spur; had taken advantage of Winton's inalertness +to construct the track; and was now prepared to hold the crossing with +a live engine and such a show of force as might be needful. + +Calvert turned back from the entrance of the valley, and was minded, +in a spirit of fairness, to pass the word concerning the new +obstruction on to the man who was most vitally concerned. But alas! +even a Reverend Billy may not always arise superior to his hamperings +as a man and a lover. Here was defeat possible--nay, say rather defeat +probable--for a rival, with the probability increasing with each hour +of delay. Calvert fought it out by length and by breadth a dozen times +before he came in sight of the track force toiling at the shale-slide. +Should he tell Winton, and so, indirectly, help to frustrate Mr. +Darrah's well-laid plan? Or should he hold his peace and thus, +indirectly again, help to defeat the Utah company? + +He put it that way in decent self-respect. Also he assured himself +that the personal equation as between two lovers of one and the same +woman was entirely eliminated. But who can tell which motive it was +that prompted him to turn aside before he came to the army of toilers +at the slide: to turn and cross the stream and make as wide a detour +as the nature of the ground would permit, passing well beyond call +from the other side of the canyon? + +The detour took him past the slide in silent safety, but it did not +take him immediately back to the Rosemary. Instead of keeping on down +the canyon on the C. G. R. side, he turned up the gulch at the back of +Argentine and spent the better half of the afternoon tramping beneath +the solemn spruces on the mountain. What the hours of solitude brought +him in the way of decision let him declare as he sets his face finally +toward the station and the private car. + +“I can't do it: I can't turn traitor to the kinsman whose bread I eat. +And that is what it would come to in plain English. Beyond that I have +no right to go: it is not for me to pass upon the justice of this +petty war between rival corporations.” + +Ah, William Calvert! is there no word then of that other and far +subtler temptation? When you have reached your goal, if reach it you +may, will there be no remorseful looking back to this mile-stone where +a word from you might have taken the fly from your pot of precious +ointment? + +The short winter day was darkening to its close when he returned to +the Rosemary. By dint of judicious manoeuvering, with a too-fond +Bessie for an unconscious confederate, he managed to keep Virginia +from questioning him; this up to a certain moment of climaxes in the +evening. + +But Virginia read momentous things in his face and eyes, and when the +time was fully ripe she cornered him. It was the old story over again, +of a woman's determination to know pitted against a truthful man's +blundering efforts to conceal; and before he knew what he was about +Calvert had betrayed the Rajah's secret--which was also the secret of +the cipher telegrams. + +Miss Carteret said little--said nothing, indeed, that an anxious +kinsman lover could lay hold of. But when the secret was hers she +donned coat and headgear and went out on the square-railed platform, +whither the Reverend Billy dared not follow her. + +But another member of the Rosemary group had more courage---or fewer +scruples. When Miss Carteret let herself out of the rear door, Jastrow +disappeared in the opposite direction, passing through the forward +vestibule and dropping cat-like from the step to inch his way silently +over the treacherous snow-crust to a convenient spying place at the +other end of the car. + +Unfortunately for the spying purpose, the shades were drawn behind the +two great windows and the glass door, but the starlight sufficed to +show the watcher a shadowy Miss Virginia standing motionless on the +side which gave her an outlook down the canyon, leaning out, it might +be, to anticipate the upcoming of some one from the construction camp +below. + +The secretary, shivering in the knife-like wind slipping down from the +bald peaks, had not long to wait. By the time his eyes were fitted to +the darkness he heard a man coming up the track, the snow crunching +frostily under his steady stride. Jastrow ducked under the platform +and gained a viewpoint on the other side of the car. The crunching +footfalls had ceased, and a man was swinging himself up to the forward +step of the Rosemary. At the instant a voice just above the spy's head +called softly, “Mr. Winton!” and the new-comer dropped back into the +snow and came tramping to the rear. + +It was an awkward moment for Jastrow; but he made shift to dodge +again, and so to be out of the way when the engineer drew himself up +and climbed the hand-rail to stand beside his summoner. + +The secretary saw him take her hand and heard her exclamation, half +indignant, wholly reproachful: + +“You had my note: I told you not to come!” + +“So you did, and yet you were expecting me,” he asserted. He was still +holding her hand, and she could not--or did not--withdraw it. + +“Was I, indeed!” There was a touch of the old-time raillery in the +words, but it was gone when she added: “Oh, why will you keep on +coming and coming when you know so well what it means to you and your +work?” + +“I think you know the answer to that better than anyone,” he rejoined, +his voice matching hers for earnestness. “It is because I love you; +because I could not stay away if I should try. Forgive me, dear; I did +not mean to speak so soon. But you said in your note that you would be +leaving Argentine immediately--that I should not see you again: so I +had to come. Won't you give me a word, Virginia?--a waiting word, if +it must be that?” + +Jastrow held his breath, hope dying within him and sullen ferocity +crouching for the spring if her answer should urge it on. But when she +spoke the secretary's anger cooled and he breathed again. + +“No: a thousand times, no!” she burst out passionately; and Winton +staggered as if the suddenly-freed hand had dealt him a blow. + + + + +X. SPIKED SWITCHES + + +For a little time after Virginia's passionate rejection of him Winton +stood abashed and confounded. Weighed in the balance of the +after-thought, his sudden and unpremeditated declaration could plead +little excuse in encouragement. And yet she had been exceedingly kind +to him. + +“I have no right to expect a better answer,” he said finally, when he +could trust himself to speak. “But I am like other men: I should like +to know why.” + +“You can ask that?” she retorted. “You say you have no right: what +have you done to expect a better answer?” + +He shrugged. “Nothing, I suppose. But you knew that before.” + +“I only know what you have shown me during the past three weeks, and +it has proved that you are what Mr. Adams said you were--though he was +only jesting.” + +“And that is?” + +“A _faineant_, a dilettante; a man with all the God-given ability to +do as he will and to succeed, and yet who will not take the trouble to +persevere.” + +Winton smiled, a grim little smile. + +“You are not quite like any other woman I have ever known--not like +any other in the world, I believe. Your sisters, most of them, would +take it as the sincerest homage that a man should neglect his work for +his love. Do you care so much for success, then?” + +“For the thing itself--nothing, less than nothing. But--but one may +care a little for the man who wins or loses.” + +He tried to take her hand again, tried and failed. + +“Virginia!--is that my word of hope?” + +“No. Will you never see the commonplace effrontery of it, Mr. Winton? +Day after day you have come here, idling away the precious hours that +meant everything to you, and now you come once again to offer me a +share in what you have lost. Is that your idea of chivalry, of true +manhood?” + +Again the grim smile came and went. + +“An unprejudiced onlooker might say that you have made me very +welcome.” + +“Mr. Winton! Is that generous?” + +“No; perhaps it is hardly just. Because I counted the cost and have +paid the price open-eyed. You may remember that I told you that first +evening I should come as often as I dared. I knew then, what I have +known all along: that it was a part of your uncle's plan to delay my +work.” + +“His and mine, you mean; only you are too kind--or not quite brave +enough--to say so.” + +“Yours? Never! If I could believe you capable of such a thing--” + +“You may believe it,” she broke in. “It was I who suggested it.” + +He drew a deep breath, and she heard his teeth come together with a +click. It was enough to try the faith of the loyalest lover: it tried +his sorely. Yet he scarcely needed her low-voiced, “Don't you despise +me as I deserve, now?” to make him love her all the more. + +“Indeed, I don't. Resentment and love can hardly find room in the same +heart at the same time, and I have said that I love you,” he rejoined +quickly. + +She went silent at that, and when she spoke again the listening +Jastrow tuned his ear afresh to lose no word. + +“As I have confessed, I suggested it: it was just after I had seen +your men and the sheriff's ready to fly at one another's throats. I +was miserably afraid, and I asked Uncle Somerville if he could not +make terms with you in some other way. I didn't mean--” + +He made haste to help her. + +“Please don't try to defend your motive to me; it is wholly +unnecessary. It is more than enough for me to know that you were +anxious about my safety.” + +But she would not let him have the crumb of comfort undisputed. + +“There were other lives involved besides yours. I didn't say I was +specially afraid for you, did I?” + +“No, but you meant it. And I thought afterward that I should have +given you a hint in some way, though the way didn't offer at the time. +There was no danger of bloodshed. I knew--we all knew--that Deckert +wouldn't go to extremities with the small force he had.” + +“Then it was only a--a--” + +“A bluff,” he said, supplying the word. “If I had believed there was +the slightest possibility of a fight, I should have made my men take +to the woods rather than let you witness it.” + +“You shouldn't have let me waste my sympathy,” she protested +reproachfully. + +“I'm sorry; truly, I am. And you have been wasting it in another +direction as well. To-night will see the shale-slide conquered +definitely, I hope, and three more days of good weather will send us +into the Carbonate yards.” + +She broke in upon him with a little cry of impatient despair. + +“That shows how unwary you have been! Tell me: is there not a little +valley just above here--an open place where your railroad and Uncle +Somerville's run side by side?” + +“Yes, it is a mile this side of the canyon head. What about it?” + +“How long is it since you have been up there?” she queried. + +Winton stopped to think. “I don't know--a week, possibly.” + +“Yet if you had not been coming here every evening, you or Mr. Adams +would have found time to go--to watch every possible chance of +interference, wouldn't you?” + +“Perhaps. That was one of the risks I took, a part of the price-paying +I spoke of. If anything had happened, I should still be unrepentant.” + +“Something _has_ happened. While you have been taking things for +granted, Uncle Somerville has been at work day and night. He has built +a track right across yours in that little valley, and he keeps a train +of cars or something, filled with armed men, standing there all the +time!” + +Winton gave a low whistle. Then he laughed mirthlessly. + +“You are quite sure of this?” he asked. “There is no possibility of +your being mistaken?” + +“None at all,” she replied. “And I can only defend myself by saying +that I didn't know about it until a few minutes ago. What is to be +done? But stop; you needn't tell me. I am not worthy of your +confidence.” + +“You are; you have just proved it. But there isn't anything to be +done. The next thing in order is the exit of one John Winton in +disgrace. That spur track and engine means a crossing fight which can +be prolonged indefinitely, with due vigilance on the part of Mr. +Darrah's mercenaries. I'm smashed, Miss Carteret, thoroughly and +permanently. Ah, well, it's only one more fool for love. Hadn't we +better go in? You'll take cold standing out here.” + +She drew herself up and put her hands behind her. + +“Is that the way you take it, Mr. Winton?” + +The acrid laugh came again. + +“Would you have me tear a passion to tatters? My ancestors were not +French.” + +Trying as the moment was, she could not miss her opportunity. + +“How can you tell when you don't know your grandfather's middle name?” + she said, half crying. + +His laugh at this was less acrid. “Adams again? My grandfather had no +middle name. But I mustn't keep you out here in the cold talking +genealogies.” + +His hand was on the door to open it for her. Like a flash she came +between, and her fingers closed over his on the door-knob. + +“Wait,” she said. “Have I done all this--humbled myself into the very +dust--to no purpose?” + +“Not if you will give me the one priceless word I am thirsting for.” + +“Oh, how shameless you are!” she cried. “Will nothing serve to arouse +the better part of you?” + +“There is no better part of any man than his love for a woman. You +have aroused that.” + +“_Then prove it by going and building your railroad_, Mr. Winton. When +you have done that--” + +He caught at the word as a drowning man catches at a straw. + +“When I have won the fight--Virginia, let me see your eyes--when I +have won, I may come back to you?” + +“I didn't say anything of the kind! But I will say what I said to Mr. +Adams. I like men who _do_ things. Good night.” And before he could +reply she had made him open the door for her, and he was left alone on +the square-railed platform. + +In the gathering-room of the private car Virginia found an atmosphere +surcharged with electrical possibilities, felt it and inhaled it, +though there was nothing visible to indicate it. The Rajah was buried +in the depths of his particular easy-chair, puffing his cigar; Bessie +had the Reverend Billy in the tete-a-tete contrivance; and Mrs. +Carteret was reading under the Pintsch drop-light at the table. + +It was the chaperon who applied the firing spark to the electrical +possibilities. + +“Didn't I hear you talking to some one out on the platform, Virginia?” + she asked. + +“Yes, it was Mr. Winton. He came to make his excuses.” + +Mr. Somerville Darrah awoke out of his tobacco reverie with a start. + +“Hah!” he said fiercely. Then, in his most courteous phrase: “Did I +undehstand you to say that Misteh Winton would not faveh us to-night, +my deah Virginia?” + +“He could not. He has come upon--upon some other difficulty, I +believe,” she stammered, steering a perilous course among the rocks of +equivocation. + +“Mmph!” said the Rajah, rising. “Ah--where is Jastrow?” + +The obsequious one appeared, imp-like, at the mention of his name, and +received a curt order. + +“Go and find Engineer McGrath and his fireman. Tell him I want the +engine instantly. Move, seh!” + +Virginia retreated to her state-room. In a few minutes she heard her +uncle go out; and shortly afterward the Rosemary's engine shook itself +free of the car and rumbled away westward. At that, Virginia went back +to the others and found a book. But if waiting inactive were +difficult, reading was blankly impossible. + +“Goodness!” she exclaimed impatiently at last. “How hot you people +keep it in here! Cousin Billy, won't you take a turn with me on the +station platform? I can't breathe!” + +Calvert acquiesced eagerly, scenting an opportunity. But when they +were out under the frosty stars he had the good sense to walk her up +and down in the healing silence and darkness for five full minutes +before he ventured to say what was in his mind. + +When he spoke it was earnestly and to the purpose, not without +eloquence. He loved her; had always loved her, he thought. Could she +not, with time and the will to try, learn to love him?--not as a +cousin? + +She turned quickly and put both hands on his shoulders. + +“Oh, Cousin Billy--_don't_!” she faltered brokenly; and he, seeing at +once that he had played the housebreaker where he would fain have been +the welcome guest, took his punishment manfully, drawing her arm in +his and walking her yet other turns up and down the long platform +until his patience and the silence had wrought their perfect work. + +“Does it hurt much?” she asked softly, after a long time. + +“You would have to change places with me to know just how much it +hurts,” he answered. “And yet you haven't left me quite desolate, +Virginia. I still have something left--all I've ever had, I fancy.” + +“And that is--” + +“My love for you, you know. It isn't at all contingent upon your yes +or no; or upon possession--it never has been, I think. It has never +asked much except the right to be.” + +She was silent for a moment. Then she said: “Cousin Billy, I do +believe that you are the best man that ever lived. And I am +ashamed--ashamed!” + +“What for?” + +“If I have spoiled you, ever so little, for some truer, worthier +woman.” + +“You haven't,” he responded; “you mustn't take that view of it. I am +decently in love with my work--a work that not a few wise men have +agreed could best be done alone. I don't think there will be any other +woman. You see, there is only one Virginia. Shall we go in now?” + +She nodded, but when they reached the Rosemary the returning engine +was rattling down upon the open siding. Virginia drew back. + +“I don't want to meet Uncle Somerville just now,” she confessed. +“Can't we climb up to the observation platform at the other end of the +car?” + +He said yes, and made the affirmative good by lifting her in his arms +over the high railing. Once safely on the car, she bade him leave her. + +“Slip in quietly and they won't notice,” she said. “I'll come +presently.” + +Calvert obeyed, and Virginia stood alone in the darkness. Down in the +Utah construction camp lights were darting to and fro; and before long +she heard the hoarse puffs of the big octopod, betokening activities. + +She was shivering a little in the chill wind sliding down from the +snow-peaks, yet she would not go in until she had made sure. In a +little time her patience was rewarded. The huge engine came storming +up the grade on the new line, pushing its three flat-cars, which were +black with clinging men. On the car nearest the locomotive, where the +dazzling beam of the headlight pricked him out for her, stood Winton, +braced against the lurchings of the train over the uneven track. + +“God speed you, my--love!” she murmured softly; and when the gloom of +the upper canyon cleft had engulfed man and men and storming engine +she turned to go in. + +She was groping for the door-knob in the darkness made thicker by the +glare of the passing headlight when a voice, disembodied for the +moment, said: “Wait a minute, Miss Carteret; I'd like to have a word +with you.” + +She drew back quickly. + +“Is it you, Mr. Jastrow? Let me go in, please.” + +“In one moment. I have something to say to you--something you ought to +hear.” + +“Can't it be said on the other side of the door? I am cold--very cold, +Mr. Jastrow.” + +It was his saving hint, but he would not take it. + +“No, it must be said to you alone. We have at least one thing in +common, Miss Carteret--you and I: that is a proper appreciation of the +successful realities. I--” + +She stopped him with a quick little gesture of impatience. + +“Will you be good enough to stand aside and let me go in?” + +The keen breath of the snow-caps was summer-warm in comparison with +the chilling iciness of her manner; but the secretary went on unmoved: + +“Success is the only thing worth while in this world. Winton will +fail, but I shan't. And when I do succeed, I shall marry a woman who +can wear the purple most becomingly.” + +“I hope you may, I'm sure,” she answered wearily. “Yet you will excuse +me if I say that I don't understand how it concerns me, or why you +should keep me out here in the cold to tell me about it.” + +“Don't you? It concerns you very nearly. You are the woman, Miss +Carteret.” + +“Indeed? And if I decline the honor?” + +The contingency was one for which the suitor seemed not entirely +prepared. Yet he evinced a willingness to meet the hypothesis in a +spirit of perfect candor. + +“You wouldn't do that, definitely, I fancy. It would be tantamount to +driving me to extremities.” + +“If you will tell me how I can do it 'definitely,' I shall be most +happy to drive you to extremities, or anywhere else out of my way,” + she said frigidly. + +“Oh, I think not,” he rejoined. “You wouldn't want me to go and tell +Mr. Darrah how you have betrayed him to Mr. Winton. I had the singular +good fortune to overhear you conversation--yours and Mr. Winton's, you +know; and if Mr. Darrah knew, he would cut you out of his will with +very little compunction, don't you think? And, really, you mustn't +throw yourself away on that sentimental Tommy of an engineer, Miss +Virginia. He'll never be able to give you the position you're fitted +for.” + +Since French was a dead language to Mr. Arthur Jastrow, he never knew +what it was that Miss Carteret named him. But she left him in no doubt +as to her immediate purpose. + +“If that be the case, we would better go and find my uncle at once,” + she said in her softest tone; and before he could object she had led +the way to the Rajah's working-den state-room. + +Mr. Darrah was deep in one of the cipher telegrams when they entered, +and he looked up to glare fiercely at one and then the other of the +intruders. Virginia gave her persecutor no time to lodge his +accusation. + +“Uncle Somerville, Mr. Winton was here an hour ago, as you know, and I +told him what you had done--what I had helped you do. Also, I sent him +about his business; which is to win his railroad fight if he can. Mr. +Jastrow overheard the conversation, purposely, and as he threatens to +turn informer, I am saving him the trouble. Perhaps I ought to add that +he offered to hold his peace if I would promise to marry him.” + +What the unlucky Jastrow might have said in his own behalf is not to +be here set down in peaceful black and white. With the final word of +Virginia's explanation the fierce old master of men was up and +clutching for the secretary's throat, and the working complement of +the Rosemary suffered instant loss. + +“You'll spy upon a membeh of my family, will you, seh!” he stormed. +“Out with you, bag and baggage, befo' I lose my tempeh and forget what +is due to this young lady you have insulted, seh, with your infamous +proposals! Faveh me instantly, while you have a leg to run with! Go!” + +Jastrow disappeared; and when the door closed behind him Virginia +faced her irate clan-chief bravely. + +“He was a spy, and he would have been a traitor. But I am little +better. What will you do to me?” + +The Rajah's wrath evaporated quickly, and a shrewd smile, not +unkindly, wrinkled the ruddy old face. + +“So it was a case of the trappeh trapped, was it, my deah? I'm +sorry--right sorry. I might have known how it would be; a youngeh man +would have known. But you have done no unpahdonable mischief: Misteh +Winton would have found out for himself in a few hours, and we are +ready for him now.” + +“Oh, dear! Then he will be beaten?” + +“Unquestionably. Faveh me by going to bed, my deah. Your roses will +suffeh sadly for all this excitement, I feah. Good night.” + + + + +XI. THE RIGHT OF WAY + + +It seemed to Virginia that she had but just fallen asleep when she was +rudely awakened by the jar and grind of the Rosemary's wheels on +snow-covered rails. Drawing the curtain, she found that a new day was +come, gray and misty white in the gusty swirl of a mountain +snow-squall. + +Without disturbing the sleeping Bessie, she dressed quickly and +slipped out to see what the early-morning change of base portended. +The common room was empty when she entered it, but before she could +cross to the door the Reverend Billy came in, stamping the snow from +his feet. + +“What is it?” she asked eagerly. “Are we off for California?” + +“No, it's some more of the war. Winton has outgeneraled us. During the +night he pushed his track up to the disputed crossing, 'rushed' the +guarded engine, and ditched it.” + +Virginia felt that she ought to be decorously sorry for relationship's +sake, but the effort ended in a little paean of joy. + +“But Uncle Somerville--what will he do?” + +“He is with McGrath on the engine, getting himself--and us--to the +front in a hurry, as you perceive.” + +“Isn't it too late to stop Mr. Winton now?” + +“I don't know. From what I could overhear I gathered that the ditched +engine is still in the way; that they are trying to roll it over into +the creek. Bless me! McGrath is getting terribly reckless!”--this as a +spiteful lurch of the car flung them both across the compartment. + +“Say Uncle Somerville,” she amended. “Don't charge it to Mr. McGrath. +Can't we go out on the platform?” + +“It's as much as your life is worth,” he asserted, but he opened the +door for her. + +The car was backing swiftly up the grade with the engine behind +serving as a “pusher.” At first the fiercely-driven snow-whirl made +Virginia gasp. Then the speed slackened and she could breathe and see. + +The shrilling wheels were tracking around a curve into a scanty +widening of the canyon. To the left, on the rails of the new line, the +big octopod was heaving and grunting in the midst of an army of +workmen swarming thick upon the overturned guard engine. + +“Goodness! it's like a battle!” she shuddered. As she spoke the +Rosemary stopped with a jerk and McGrath's fireman darted past to set +the spur-track switch. + +The points were snow-clogged, and the fireman wrestled with the lever, +saying words. The delay was measurable in heart-beats, but it +sufficed. The big octopod coughed thrice like a mighty giant in a +consumption; the clustering workmen scattered like chaff to a ringing +shout of “Stand clear!” and the obstructing mass of iron and steel +rolled, wallowing and hissing, into the stream. + +“Rails to the front! Hammermen!” yelled Winton; and the scattered +force rallied instantly. + +But now the wrestling fireman had thrown the switch, and at the +Rajah's command the Rosemary shot out on the spur to be thrust with +locked brakes fairly into the breach left defenseless by the ditched +engine. With a mob-roar of wrath the infuriated track-layers made a +rush for the new obstruction. But Winton was before them. + +“Hold on!” he shouted, bearing them back with outflung arms. “Hold on, +men, for God's sake! There are women in that car!” + +The wrathful wave broke and eddied murmurous while a square-shouldered +old man with fierce eyes and huge white mustaches, and with an extinct +cigar between his teeth, clambered down from the Rosemary's engine to +say: + +“Hah! a ratheh close connection, eh, Misteh Winton? Faveh me with a +match, if you please, seh. May I assume that you won't tumble my +private car into the ditch?” + +Winton was white-hot, but he found a light for the Rajah's cigar, +easing his mind only as he might with Virginia looking on. + +“I shall be more considerate of the safety of the ladies than you seem +to be, Mr. Darrah,” he retorted. “You are taking long chances in this +game, sir.” + +The Rajah's laugh rumbled deep in his chest. “Not so vehy much longer +than you have been taking during the past fo'tnight, my deah seh. But +neveh mind; all's fair in love or war, and we appeah to be having a +little of both now up heah in Qua'tz Creek, hah?” + +Winton flushed angrily. It was no light thing to be mocked before his +men, to say nothing of Miss Carteret standing within arm's reach on +the railed platform of the Rosemary. + +“Perhaps I shall give you back that word before we are through, Mr. +Darrah,” he snapped. Then to the eddying mob-wave: “Tools up, boys. We +camp here for breakfast. Branagan, send the Two-fifteen down for the +cook's outfit.” + +The Rajah dropped his cigar butt in the snow and trod upon it. + +“Possibly you will faveh us with your company to breakfast in the +Rosemary, Misteh Winton--you and Misteh Adams. No? Then I bid you a +vehy good morning, gentlemen, and hope to see you lateh.” And he swung +up to the steps of the private car. + +Half an hour afterward, the snow still whirling dismally, Winton and +Adams were cowering over a handful of hissing embers, drinking their +commissary coffee and munching the camp cook's poor excuse for a +breakfast. + +“Jig's up pretty definitely, don't you think?” said Adams, with a +glance around at the idle track force huddling for shelter under the +lee of the flats and the octopod. + +Winton shook his head and groaned. “I'm a ruined man, Morty.” + +Adams found his cigarette case. + +“I guess that's so,” he said quite heartlessly. Then: “Hello! what is +our friend the enemy up to now?” + +McGrath's fireman was uncoupling the engine from the Rosemary, and Mr. +Somerville Darrah, complacently lighting his after breakfast cigar, +came across to the hissing ember fire. + +“A word with you, gentlemen, if you will faveh me,” he began. “I am +about to run down to Argentine on my engine, and I propose leaving the +ladies in your cha'ge, Misteh Winton. Will you give me your word of +honeh, seh, that they will not be annoyed in my absence?” + +Winton sprang up, losing his temper again. + +“It's--well, it's blessed lucky that you know your man, Mr. Darrah!” + he exploded. “Go on about your business--which is to bring another +army of deputy-sheriffs down on us, I take it. You know well enough +that no man of mine will lay a hand on your car so long as the ladies +are in it.” + +The Rajah thanked him, dismissed the matter with a Chesterfieldian +wave of his hand, climbed to his place in the cab, and the engine +shrilled away around the curve and disappeared in the snow-wreaths. + +Adams rose and stretched himself. + +“By Jove! when it comes to cheek, pure and unadulterated, commend me +to a Virginia gentleman who has acquired the proper modicum of Western +bluff,” he laughed. Then, with a cavernous yawn dating back to the +sleepless night: “Since there is nothing immediately pressing, I +believe I'll go and call on the ladies. Won't you come along for a +while?” + +“No!” said Winton savagely; and the assistant lounged off by himself. + +Some little time afterward Winton, glooming over his handful of +spitting embers, saw Adams and Virginia come out to stand together on +the observation platform of the Rosemary. They talked long and +earnestly, and when Winton was beginning to add the dull pang of +unreasoning jealousy to his other hurtings, Adams beckoned him. He +went, not unwillingly, or altogether willingly. + +“I should think you might come and say 'Good morning' to me, Mr. +Winton. I'm not Uncle Somerville,” said Miss Carteret. + +Winton said “Good morning,” not too graciously, and Adams mocked him. + +“Besides being a bear with a sore head, Miss Carteret thinks you're +not much of a hustler, Jack,” he said coolly. “She knows the +situation; knows that you were stupid enough to promise not to lay +hands on the car when we could have pushed it out of the way without +annoying anybody. None the less, she thinks that you might find a way +to go on building your railroad without breaking your word to Mr. +Darrah.” + +Winton put his sore-heartedness far enough behind him to smile and +say: “Perhaps Miss Virginia will be good enough to tell me how.” + +“I don't know how,” she rejoined quickly. “And you'd only laugh at me +if I should tell you what I thought of.” + +“You might try it and see,” he ventured. “I'm desperate enough to take +suggestions from anyone.” + +“Tell me something first: is your railroad obliged to run straight +along in the middle of this nice little ridge you've been making for +it?” + +“Why--no; temporarily, it can run anywhere. But the problem is to get +the track laid beyond this crossing before your uncle gets back with a +trainload of armed guards.” + +“Any kind of track would do, wouldn't it?--just to secure the +crossing?” + +“Certainly; anything that would hold the weight of the octopod. We +shall have to rebuild most of the line, anyway, as soon as the frost +comes out of the ground in the spring.” + +The brown eyes became far-seeing. + +“I was thinking,” she said musingly. “There is no time to make another +nice little ridge. But you have piles and piles of logs over +there,”--she meant the cross-ties,--“couldn't you build a sort of +cobhouse ridge with those between your track and Uncle's, and cross +behind the car? Don't laugh, please.” + +But Winton was far enough from laughing at her. Why so simple an +expedient had not suggested itself instantly he did not stop to +inquire. It was enough that the Heaven-born idea had been given. + +“Down out of that, Morty!” he cried. “It's one chance in a thousand. +Pass the word to the men; I'll be with you in a second.” And when +Adams was rousing the track force with the bawling shout of +“_Ev-erybody_!” Winton looked up into the brown eyes. + +“My debt to you was already very great: I owe you more now,” he said. + +But she gave him his quittance in a whiplike retort. + +“And you will stand here talking about it when every moment is +precious? Go!” she commanded; and he went. + +So now we are to conceive the maddest activity leaping into being in +full view of the watchers at the windows of the private car. Winton's +chilled and sodden army, welcoming any battle-cry of action, flew to +the work with a will. In a twinkling the corded piles of cross-ties +had melted to reappear in cobhouse balks bridging an angle from the +Utah embankment to that of the spur track in the rear of the +blockading Rosemary. In briefest time the hammermen were spiking the +rails on the rough-and-ready trestle, and the Italians were bringing +up the crossing-frogs. + +But the Rajah, astute colonel of industry, had not left himself +defenseless. On the contrary, he had provided for this precise +contingency by leaving McGrath's fireman in mechanical command on the +Rosemary. If Winton should attempt to build around the private car, +the fireman was to wait till the critical moment: then he was to +lessen the pressure on the automatic air-brakes and let the car drop +back down the grade just far enough to block the new crossing. + +So it came about that this mechanical lieutenant waited, laughing in +his sleeve, until he saw the Italians coming with the crossing-frogs. +Then, judging the time to be fully ripe, he ducked under the Rosemary +to “bleed” the air-brake. + +Winton heard the hiss of the escaping air above all the industry +clamor; heard, and saw the car start backward. Then he had a flitting +glimpse of a man in grimy overclothes scrambling terror-frenzied from +beneath the Rosemary. The thing done had been overdone. The fireman +had “bled” the air-brake too freely, and the liberated car, gathering +momentum with every wheel-turn, surged around the circling spur track +and shot out masterless on the steeper gradient of the main line. + +Now, for the occupants of a runaway car on a Rocky Mountain canyon +line there is death and naught else. Winton saw, in a phantasmagoric +flash of second sight, the meteor flight of the heavy car; saw the +Reverend Billy's ineffectual efforts to apply the hand-brakes, if by +good hap he should even guess that there were any hand-brakes; saw the +car, bounding and lurching, keeping to the rails, mayhap, for some few +miles below Argentine, where it would crash headlong into the upward +climbing Carbonate train, and all would end. + +In unreasoning misery, he did the only thing that offered: ran blindly +down his own embankment, hoping nothing but that he might have one +last glimpse of Virginia clinging to the hand-rail before she should +be lost to him for ever. + +But as he ran a thought white-hot from the furnace of despair fell +into his brain to set it ablaze with purpose. Beyond the litter of +activities the octopod was standing, empty of its crew. Bounding up +into the cab, he released the brake and sent the great engine flying +down the track of the new line. + +In the measuring of the first mile the despair-born thought took shape +and form. If he could outpace the runaway on the parallel line, stop +the octopod and dash across to the C. G. R. track ahead of the +Rosemary, there was one chance in a million that he might fling +himself upon the car in mid flight and alight with life enough left to +help Calvert with the hand-brakes. + +Now, in the most unhopeful struggle it is often the thing least hoped +for that comes to pass. At Argentine, Winton's speed was a mile a +minute over a track rougher than a corduroy wagon-road; yet the +octopod held the rail and was neck and neck with the runaway. Whisking +past the station, Winton had a glimpse of a white-mustached old man +standing bareheaded on the platform and gazing horror-stricken at the +tableau; then man and station and lurching car were left behind, and +the fierce strife to gain the needed mile of lead went on. + +Three miles more of the surging, racking, nerve-killing race and +Winton had his hand's-breadth of lead and had picked his place for the +million-chanced wrestle with death. It was at the C. G. R. station of +Tierra Blanca, just below a series of sharp curves which he hoped +might check a little the arrow-like flight of the runaway. + +Twenty seconds later the telegraph operator at the lonely little way +station of Tierra Blanca saw a heroic bit of man-play. The +upward-bound Carbonate train was whistling in the gorge below when out +of the snow-wreaths shrouding the new line a big engine shot down to +stop with fire grinding from the wheels, and a man dropped from the +high cab to dash across to the station platform. + +At the same instant a runaway passenger car thundered out of the +canyon above. The man crouched, flung himself at it in passing, missed +the forward hand-rail, caught the rear, was snatched from his feet and +trailed through the air like the thong of a whip-lash, yet made good +his hold and clambered on. + +This was all the operator saw, but when he had snapped his key and run +out he heard the shrill squeal of the brakes on the car and knew that +the man had not risked his life for nothing. + +And on board the Rosemary? Winton, spent to the last breath, was lying +prone on the railed platform, where he had fallen when the last twist +had been given to the shrieking brakes. + +“Run, Calvert! Run ahead and--stop--the--up-train!” he gasped; then +the light went out of the gray eyes and Virginia wept unaffectedly and +fell to dabbling his forehead with handfuls of snow. + +“Help me get him in to the divan, Cousin Billy,” said Virginia, when +all was over and the Rosemary was safely coupled in ahead of the +upcoming train to be slowly pushed back to Argentine. + +But Winton opened his eyes and struggled to his feet unaided. + +“Not yet,” he said. “I've left my automobile on the other side of the +creek; and besides, I have a railroad to build. My respects to Mr. +Darrah, and you may tell him I'm not beaten yet.” And he swung over +the railing and dropped off to mount the octopod and to race it back +to the front. + + * * * * * + +Three days afterward, to a screaming of smelter whistles and other +noisy demonstrations of mining-camp joy, the Utah Short Line laid the +final rail of its new Extension in the Carbonate yards. + +The driving of the silver spike accomplished, Winton and Adams slipped +out of the congratulatory throng and made their way across the +C. G. R. tracks to a private car standing along the siding. Its railed +platform, commanding a view of the civic celebration, had its quota of +onlookers--a fierce-eyed old man with huge mustaches, an athletic +young clergyman, two Bisques, and a goddess. + +“Climb up, Misteh Winton, and you, Misteh Adams; climb up and join +us,” said the fierce-eyed one heartily. “Virginia, heah, thinks we +ought to call one anotheh out, but I tell her--” + +What the Rajah had told his niece is of small account to us. But what +Winton whispered in her ear when he had taken his place beside her is +more to the purpose of this history. + +“I have built my railroad, as you told me to, and now I have come for +my--” + +“Hush!” she said softly. “Can't you wait?” + +“No.” + +“Shameless one!” she murmured. + +But when the Rajah proposed an adjournment to the gathering-room of +the car, and to luncheon therein, he surprised them standing +hand-in-hand and laughed. + +“Hah, you little rebel!” he said. “Do you think you dese've that block +of stock I promised you when you should marry? Anseh me, my deah.” + +She blushed and shook her head, but the brown eyes were dancing. + +The Rajah opened the car door with his courtliest bow. + +“Nevertheless, you shall have it, my deah Virginia, if only to remind +an old man of the time when he was simple enough to make a business +confederate of a cha'ming young woman. Straight on, Misteh Adams; +afteh you, Misteh Winton.” + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Fool For Love, by Francis Lynde + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FOOL FOR LOVE *** + +***** This file should be named 8073-0.txt or 8073-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/0/7/8073/ + +Produced by Ketaki Chhabra and Wendy Crockett + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Fool For Love + +Author: Francis Lynde + +Release Date: July 28, 2009 [EBook #8073] +Last Updated: March 16, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FOOL FOR LOVE *** + + + + +Produced by Ketaki Chhabra, Wendy Crockett, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + A FOOL FOR LOVE + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Francis Lynde + </h2> + <h4> + Author of “The Grafters,” “The Master of Appleby,” etc. + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> I. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH WE TAKE PASSAGE ON THE LIMITED + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> II. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH AN ENGINE IS SWITCHED + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> III. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH AN ITINERARY IS CHANGED + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> IV. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE CRYSTALLINE ALTITUDES + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> V. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE LANDSLIDE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> VI. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE RAJAH GIVES AN ORDER + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VII. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE MAJESTY OF THE LAW + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VIII. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE GREEKS BRINGING GIFTS + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> IX. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE BLOCK SIGNAL + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> X. </a> + </td> + <td> + SPIKED SWITCHES + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> XI. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE RIGHT OF WAY + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + I. IN WHICH WE TAKE PASSAGE ON THE LIMITED + </h2> + <p> + It was a December morning,—the Missouri December of mild + temperatures and saturated skies,—and the Chicago and Alton's fast + train, dripping from the rush through the wet night, had steamed briskly + to its terminal track in the Union Station at Kansas City. + </p> + <p> + Two men, one smoking a short pipe and the other snapping the ash from a + scented cigarette, stood aloof from the hurrying throngs on the platform, + looking on with the measured interest of those who are in a melee but not + of it. + </p> + <p> + “More delay,” said the cigarettist, glancing at his watch. “We are over an + hour late now. Do we get any of it back on the run to Denver?” + </p> + <p> + The pipe-smoker shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Hardly, I should say. The Limited is a pretty heavy train to pick up lost + time. But it won't make any particular difference. The western connections + all wait for the Limited, and we shall reach the seat of war to-morrow + night, according to the Boston itinerary.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Morton P. Adams flung away the unburned half of his cigarette and + masked a yawn behind his hand. + </p> + <p> + “It's no end of a bore, Winton, and that is the plain, unlacquered fact,” + he protested. “I think the governor owes me something. I worried through + the Tech because he insisted that I should have a profession; and now I am + going in for field work with you in a howling winter wilderness because he + insists on a practical demonstration. I shall ossify out there in those + mountains. It's written in the book.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! it's too bad about you,” said the other ironically. He was a fit + figure of a man, clean-cut and vigorous, from the steadfast outlook of the + gray eyes and the firm, smooth-shaven jaw to the square fingertips of the + strong hands, and his smile was of good-natured contempt. “As you say, it + is an outrage on filial complaisance. All the same, with the right-of-way + fight in prospect, Quartz Creek Canyon may not prove to be such a valley + of dry bones as—Look out, there!” + </p> + <p> + The shifting-engine had cut a car from the rear of the lately-arrived + Alton, and was sending it down the outbound track to a coupling with the + Transcontinental Limited. Adams stepped back and let it miss him by a + hand's-breadth, and as the car was passing, Winton read the name on the + paneling. + </p> + <p> + “The Rosemary: somebody's twenty-ton private outfit. That cooks our last + chance of making up any lost time between this and tomorrow—” + </p> + <p> + He broke off abruptly. On the square rear observation platform of the + private car were three ladies. One of them was small and blue-eyed, with + wavy little puffs of snowy hair peeping out under her dainty widow's cap. + Another was small and blue-eyed, with wavy masses of flaxen hair caught up + from a face which might have served as a model for the most exquisite + bisque figure that ever came out of France. But Winton saw only the third. + </p> + <p> + She was taller than either of her companions—tall and straight and + lithe; a charming embodiment of health and strength and beauty: + clear-skinned, brown-eyed—a very goddess fresh from the bath, in + Winton's instant summing up of her, and her crown of red-gold hair helped + out the simile. + </p> + <p> + Now, thus far in his thirty-year pilgrimage John Winton, man and boy, had + lived the intense life of a working hermit, so far as the social gods and + goddesses were concerned. Yet he had a pang—of disappointment or + pointless jealousy, or something akin to both—when Adams lifted his + hat to this particular goddess, was rewarded by a little cry of + recognition, and stepped up to the platform to be presented to the elder + and younger Bisques. + </p> + <p> + So, as we say, Winton turned and walked away as one left out, feeling one + moment as though he had been defrauded of a natural right, and deriding + himself the next, as a sensible man should. After a bit he was able to + laugh at the “sudden attack,” as he phrased it, but later, when he and + Adams were settled for the day-long run in the Denver sleeper, and the + Limited was clanking out over the switches, he brought the talk around + with a carefully assumed air of lack-interest to the party in the private + car. + </p> + <p> + “She is a friend of yours, then?” he said, when Adams had taken the baited + hook open-eyed. + </p> + <p> + The Technologian modified the assumption. + </p> + <p> + “Not quite in your sense of the word, I fancy. I met her a number of times + at the houses of mutual friends in Boston. She was studying at the + Conservatory.” + </p> + <p> + “But she isn't a Bostonian,” said Winton confidently. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Virginia?—hardly. She is a Carteret of the Carterets; + Virginia-born-bred-and-named. Stunning girl, isn't she?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Winton shortly, resenting the slang for no reason that he could + have set forth in words. + </p> + <p> + Adams lighted another of the scented villainies, and his clean-shaven face + wrinkled itself in a slow smile. + </p> + <p> + “Which means that she has winged you at sight, I suppose, as she does most + men.” Then he added calmly, “It's no go.” + </p> + <p> + “What is 'no go'?” + </p> + <p> + Adams laughed unfeelingly, and puffed away at his cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “You remind me of the fable about the head-hiding ostrich. Didn't I see + you staring at her as if you were about to have a fit? But it is just as I + tell you: it's no go. She isn't the marrying kind. If you knew her, she'd + be nice to you till she got a good chance to flay you alive—” + </p> + <p> + “Break it off!” growled Winton. + </p> + <p> + “Presently. As I was saying, she would miss the chance of marrying the + best man in the world for the sake of taking a rise out of him. Moreover, + she comes of old Cavalier stock with an English earldom at the back of it, + and she is inordinately proud of the fact; while you—er—you've + given me to understand that you are a man of the people, haven't you?” + </p> + <p> + Winton nodded absently. It was one of his minor fads to ignore his + lineage, which ran decently back to a Colonial governor on his father's + side, and to assert that he did not know his grandfather's middle name—which + was accounted for by the very simple fact that the elder Winton had no + middle name. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that settles it definitely,” was the Bostonian's comment. “Miss + Carteret is of the <i>sang azur</i>. The man who marries her will have to + know his grandfather's middle name—and a good bit more besides.” + </p> + <p> + Winton's laugh was mockingly good-natured. + </p> + <p> + “You have missed your calling by something more than a hair's-breadth, + Morty. You should have been a novelist. Give you a spike and a cross-tie + and you'd infer a whole railroad. But you pique my curiosity. Where are + these American royalties of yours going in the Rosemary?” + </p> + <p> + “To California. The car belongs to Mr. Somerville Darrah, who is + vice-president and manager in fact of the Colorado and Grand River road: + the 'Rajah,' they call him. He is a relative of the Carterets, and the + party is on its way to spend the winter on the Pacific coast.” + </p> + <p> + “And the little lady in the widow's cap: is she Miss Carteret's mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Bessie Carteret's mother and Miss Virginia's aunt. She is the + chaperon of the party.” + </p> + <p> + Winton was silent while the Limited was roaring through a village on the + Kansas side of the river. When he spoke again it was not of the Carterets; + it was of the Carterets' kinsman and host. + </p> + <p> + “I have heard somewhat of the Rajah,” he said half-musingly. “In fact, I + know him, by sight. He is what the magazinists are fond of calling an + 'industry colonel,' a born leader who has fought his way to the front. If + the Quartz Creek row is anything more than a stiff bluff on the part of + the C. G. R. it will be quite as well for us if Mr. Somerville Darrah is + safely at the other side of the continent—and well out of ordinary + reach of the wires.” + </p> + <p> + Adams came to attention with a half-hearted attempt to galvanize an + interest in the business affair. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me more about this mysterious jangle we are heading for,” he + rejoined. “Have I enlisted for a soldier when I thought I was only going + into peaceful exile as assistant engineer of construction on the Utah + Short Line?” + </p> + <p> + “That remains to be seen.” Winton took a leaf from his pocket memorandum + and drew a rough outline map. “Here is Denver, and here is Carbonate,” he + explained. “At present the Utah is running into Carbonate this way over + the rails of the C. G. R. on a joint track agreement which either line may + terminate by giving six months' notice of its intention to the other. Got + that?” + </p> + <p> + “To have and to hold,” said Adams. “Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, on the first day of September the C. G. R. people gave the Utah + management notice to quit.” + </p> + <p> + “They are bloated monopolists,” said Adams sententiously. “Still I don't + see why there should be any scrapping over the line in Quartz Creek + Canyon.” + </p> + <p> + “No? You are not up in monopolistic methods. In six months from September + first the Utah people will be shut out of Carbonate business, which is all + that keeps that part of their line alive. If they want a share of that + traffic after March first, they will have to have a road of their own to + carry it over.” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely,” said Adams, stifling a yawn. “They are building one, aren't + they?” + </p> + <p> + “Trying to,” Winton amended. “But, unfortunately, the only practicable + route through the mountains is up Quartz Creek Canyon, and the canyon is + already occupied by a branch line of the Colorado and Grand River.” + </p> + <p> + “Still I don't see why there should be any scrap.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you? If the Rajah's road can keep the new line out of Carbonate + till the six months have expired, it will have a monopoly of all the + carrying trade of the camp. By consequence it can force every shipper in + the district to make iron-clad contracts, so that when the Utah line is + finally completed it won't be able to secure any freight for a year, at + least.” + </p> + <p> + “Oho! that's the game, is it? I begin to savvy the burro: that's the + proper phrase, isn't it? And what are our chances?” + </p> + <p> + “We have about one in a hundred, as near as I could make out from Mr. + Callowell's statement of the case. The C. G. R. people are moving heaven + and earth to obstruct us in the canyon. If they can delay the work a + little longer, the weather will do the rest. With the first heavy snow in + the mountains, which usually comes long before this, the Utah will have to + put up its tools and wait till next summer.” + </p> + <p> + Adams lighted another cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me if I seem inquisitive,” he said, “but for the life of me I + can't understand what these obstructionists can do. Of course, they can't + use force.” + </p> + <p> + Winton's smile was grim. “Can't they? Wait till you get on the ground. But + the first move was peaceable enough. They got an injunction from the + courts restraining the new line from encroaching on their right of way.” + </p> + <p> + “Which was a thing that nobody wanted to do,” said Adams, between + inhalations. + </p> + <p> + “Which was a thing the Utah <i>had</i> to do,” corrected Winton. “The + canyon is a narrow gorge—a mere slit in parts of it. That is where + they have us.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well,” returned Adams, “I suppose we took an appeal and asked to have + the injunction set aside?” + </p> + <p> + “We did, promptly; and that is the present status of the fight. The appeal + decision has not yet been handed down; and in the meantime we go on + building railroad, incurring all the penalties for contempt of court with + every shovelful of earth moved. Do you still think you will be in danger + of ossifying?” + </p> + <p> + Adams let the question rest while he asked one of his own. + </p> + <p> + “How do you come to be mixed up in it, Jack? A week ago some one told me + you were going to South America to build a railroad in the Andes. What + switched you?” + </p> + <p> + Winton shook his head. “Fate, I guess; that and a wire from President + Callowell of the Utah offering me this. Chief of Construction Evarts, in + charge of the work in Quartz Creek Canyon, said what you said a few + minutes ago—that he had not hired out for a soldier. He resigned, + and I'm taking his berth.” + </p> + <p> + Adams rose and buttoned his coat. + </p> + <p> + “By all of which it seems that we two are in for a good bit more than the + ossifying exile,” he remarked. And then: “I am going back into the + Rosemary to pay my respects to Miss Virginia Carteret. Won't you come + along?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Winton, more shortly than the invitation warranted; and the + other went his way alone. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. IN WHICH AN ENGINE IS SWITCHED + </h2> + <p> + “'Scuse me, sah; private cyah, sah.” + </p> + <p> + It was the porter's challenge in the vestibule of the Rosemary. Adams + found a card. + </p> + <p> + “Take that to Miss Carteret—Miss Virginia Carteret,” he directed, + and waited till the man came back with his welcome. + </p> + <p> + The extension table in the open rear third of the private car was closed + to its smallest dimensions, and the movable furnishings were disposed + about the compartment to make it a comfortable lounging room. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Carteret was propped among the cushions of a divan with a book. Her + daughter occupied the undivided half of a tete-a-tete chair with a blond + athlete in a clerical coat and a reversed collar. Miss Virginia was + sitting alone at a window, but she rose and came to greet the visitor. + </p> + <p> + “How good of you to take pity on us!” she said, giving him her hand. Then + she put him at one with the others: “Aunt Martha you have met; also Cousin + Bessie. Let me present you to Mr. Calvert: Cousin Billy, this is Mr. + Adams, who is responsible in a way for many of my Boston-learned + gaucheries.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Martha closed the book on her finger. “My dear Virginia!” she + protested in mild deprecation; and Adams laughed and shook hands with the + Reverend William Calvert and made Virginia's peace all in the same breath. + </p> + <p> + “Don't apologize for Miss Virginia, Mrs. Carteret. We were very good + friends in Boston, chiefly, I think, because I never objected when she + wanted to—er—to take a rise out of me.” Then to Virginia: “I + hope I don't intrude?” + </p> + <p> + “Not in the least. Didn't I just say you were good to come? Uncle + Somerville tells us we are passing through the famous Golden Belt,—whatever + that may be,—and recommends an easy-chair and a window. But I + haven't seen anything but stubble-fields—dismally wet stubble-fields + at that. Won't you sit down and help me watch them go by?” + </p> + <p> + Adams placed a chair for her and found one for himself. + </p> + <p> + “'Uncle Somerville'—am I to have the pleasure of meeting Mr. + Somerville Darrah?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Virginia's laugh was non-committal. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Quien sabe</i>?” she queried, airing her one Westernism before she was + fairly in the longitude of it. “Uncle Somerville is a law unto himself. He + had a lot of telegrams and things at Kansas City, and he is locked in his + den with Mr. Jastrow, dictating answers by the dozen, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, these industry colonels!” said Adams. “Don't their toilings make you + ache in sheer sympathy sometimes?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed,” was the prompt rejoinder; “I envy them. It must be fine to + have large things to do, and to be able to do them.” + </p> + <p> + “Degenerate scion of a noble race!” jested Adams. “What ancient Carteret + of them all would have compromised with the necessities by becoming a + captain of industry?” + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't their <i>metier</i>, or the <i>metier</i> of their times,” said + Miss Virginia with conviction. “They were sword-soldiers merely because + that was the only way a strong man could conquer in those days. Now it is + different, and a strong man fights quite as nobly in another field—and + deserves quite as much honor.” + </p> + <p> + “Think so? I don't agree with you—as to the fighting, I mean. I like + to take things easy. A good club, a choice of decent theaters, the society + of a few charming young women like—” + </p> + <p> + She broke him with a mocking laugh. + </p> + <p> + “You were born a good many centuries too late, Mr. Adams; you would have + fitted so beautifully, into decadent Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “No—thanks. Twentieth-century America, with the commercial frenzy + taken out of it, is good enough for me. I was telling Winton a little + while ago—” + </p> + <p> + “Your friend of the Kansas City station platform?” she interrupted. + “Mightn't you introduce us a little less informally?” + </p> + <p> + “Beg pardon, I'm sure—yours and Jack's: Mr. John Winton, of New York + and the world at large, familiarly known to his intimates—and they + are precious few—as 'Jack W.' As I was about to say—” + </p> + <p> + But she seemed to find a malicious satisfaction in breaking in upon him. + </p> + <p> + “'Mr. John Winton': it's a pretty name as names go, but it isn't as strong + as he is. He is an 'industry colonel,' isn't he? He looks it.” + </p> + <p> + The Bostonian avenged himself at Winton's expense for the unwelcome + interruption. + </p> + <p> + “So much for your woman's intuition,” he laughed. “Speaking of idlers, + there is your man to the dotting of the 'i'; a dilettante raised to the <i>nth</i> + power.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Carteret's short upper lip curled in undisguised scorn. + </p> + <p> + “I like men who do things,” she asserted with pointed emphasis; whereupon + the talk drifted eastward to Boston, and Winton was ignored until + Virginia, having exhausted the reminiscent vein, said, “You are going on + through to Denver?” + </p> + <p> + “To Denver and beyond,” was the reply. “Winton has a notion of hibernating + in the mountains—fancy it; in the dead of winter!—and he has + persuaded me to go along. He sketches a little, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, so he is an artist?” said Virginia, with interest newly aroused. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Adams gloomily, “he isn't an artist—isn't much of + anything, I'm sorry to say. Worse than all, he doesn't know his + grandfather's middle name. Told me so himself.” + </p> + <p> + “That is inexcusable—in a dilettante,” said Miss Virginia mockingly. + “Don't you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “It is inexcusable in anyone,” said the Technologian, rising to take his + leave. Then, as a parting word: “Does the Rosemary set its own table? or + do you dine in the dining-car?” + </p> + <p> + “In the dining-car, if we have one. Uncle Somerville lets us dodge the + Rosemary's cook whenever we can,” was the answer; and with this bit of + information Adams went his way to the Denver sleeper. + </p> + <p> + Finding Winton in his section, poring over a blue-print map and making + notes thereon after the manner of a man hard at work, Adams turned back to + the smoking-compartment. + </p> + <p> + Now for Mr. Morton P. Adams the salt of life was a joke, harmless or + otherwise, as the tree might fall. So, during the long afternoon which he + wore out in solitude, there grew up in him a keen desire to see what would + befall if these two whom he had so grotesquely misrepresented each to the + other should come together in the pathway of acquaintanceship. + </p> + <p> + But how to bring them together was a problem which refused to be solved + until chance pointed the way. Since the Limited had lost another hour + during the day there was a rush for the dining-car as soon as the + announcement of its taking-on had gone through the train. Adams and Winton + were of this rush, and so were the members of Mr. Somerville Darrah's + party. In the seating the party was separated, as room at the crowded + tables could be found; and Miss Virginia's fate gave her the unoccupied + seat at one of the duet tables, opposite a young man with steadfast gray + eyes and a firm jaw. + </p> + <p> + Winton was equal to the emergency, or thought he was. Adams was still + within call and he beckoned him, meaning to propose an exchange of seats. + But the Bostonian misunderstood wilfully. + </p> + <p> + “Most happy, I'm sure,” he said, coming instantly to the rescue. “Miss + Carteret, my friend signals his dilemma. May I present him?” + </p> + <p> + Virginia smiled and gave the required permission in a word. But for Winton + self-possession fled shrieking. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—er—I hope you know Mr. Adams well enough to make + allowances for his—for his—” He broke down helplessly and she + had to come to his assistance. + </p> + <p> + “For his imagination?” she suggested. “I do, indeed; we are quite old + friends.” + </p> + <p> + Here was “well enough,” but Winton was a man and could not let it alone. + </p> + <p> + “I should be very sorry to have you think for a moment that I would—er—so + far forget myself,” he went on fatuously. “What I had in mind was an + exchange of seats with him. I thought it would be pleasanter for you; that + is, I mean, pleasanter for—” He stopped short, seeing nothing but a + more hopeless involvement ahead; also because he saw signals of distress + or of mirth flying in the brown eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, please!” she protested in mock humility. “Do leave my vanity just the + tiniest little cranny to creep out of, Mr. Winton. I'll promise to be good + and not bore you too desperately.” + </p> + <p> + At this, as you would imagine, the pit of utter self-abasement yawned for + Winton, and he plunged headlong, holding the bill of fare wrong side up + when the waiter asked for his dinner order, and otherwise demeaning + himself like a man taken at a hopeless disadvantage. She took pity on him. + </p> + <p> + “But let's ignore Mr. Adams,” she went on sweetly. “I am much more + interested in this,” touching the bill of fare. “Will you order for me, + please? I like—” + </p> + <p> + When she had finished the list of her likings, Winton was able to smile at + his lapse into the primitive, and gave the dinner order for two with a + fair degree of coherence. After that they got on better. Winton knew + Boston, and, next to the weather, Boston was the safest and most fruitful + of the commonplaces. Nevertheless, it was not immortal; and Winton was + just beginning to cast about for some other safe riding road for the + shallop of small talk when Miss Carteret sent it adrift with malice + aforethought. + </p> + <p> + It was somewhere between the entrees and the fruit, and the point of + departure was Boston art. + </p> + <p> + “Speaking of art, Mr. Winton, will you tell me how you came to think of + sketching in the mountains of Colorado at this time of year? I should + think the cold would be positively prohibitive of anything like that.” + </p> + <p> + Winton stared—open-mouthed, it is to be feared. + </p> + <p> + “I—I beg your pardon,” he stammered, with the inflection which takes + its pitch from blank bewilderment. + </p> + <p> + Miss Virginia was happy. Dilettante he might be, and an unhumbled man of + the world as well; but, to use the Reverend Billy's phrase, she could make + him “sit up.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg yours, I'm sure,” she said demurely. “I didn't know it was a craft + secret.” + </p> + <p> + Winton looked across the aisle to the table where the Technologian was + sitting opposite a square-shouldered, ruddy-faced gentleman with fiery + eyes and fierce white mustaches, and shook a figurative fist. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to know what Adams has been telling you,” he said. “Sketching in + the mountains in midwinter! that would be decidedly original, to say the + least of it. And I think I have never done an original thing in all my + life.” + </p> + <p> + For a single instant the brown eyes looked their pity for him; generic + pity it was, of the kind that mounting souls bestow upon the stagnant. But + the subconscious lover in Winton made it personal to him, and it was the + lover who spoke when he went on. + </p> + <p> + “That is a damaging admission, is it not? I am sorry to have to make it—to + have to confirm your poor opinion of me.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I say anything like that?” she protested. + </p> + <p> + “Not in words; but your eyes said it, and I know you have been thinking it + all along. Don't ask me how I know it: I couldn't explain it if I should + try. But you have been pitying me, in a way—you know you have.” + </p> + <p> + The brown eyes were downcast. Frank and free-hearted after her kind as she + was, Virginia Carteret was finding it a new and singular experience to + have a man tell her baldly at their first meeting that he had read her + inmost thought of him. Yet she would not flinch or go back. + </p> + <p> + “There is so much to be done in the world, and so few to do the work,” she + pleaded in extenuation. + </p> + <p> + “And Adams has told you that I am not one of the few? It is true enough to + hurt.” + </p> + <p> + She looked him fairly in the eyes. “What is lacking, Mr. Winton—the + spur?” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly,” he rejoined. “There is no one near enough to care, or to say + 'Well done!'” + </p> + <p> + “How can you tell?” she questioned musingly. “It is not always permitted + to us to hear the plaudits or the hisses—happily, I think. Yet there + are always those standing by who are ready to cry '<i>Io triumphe</i>!' + and mean it, when one approves himself a good soldier.” + </p> + <p> + The coffee had been served, and Winton sat thoughtfully stirring the lump + of sugar in his cup. Miss Carteret was not having a monopoly of the new + experiences. For instance, it had never before happened to John Winton to + have a woman, young, charming, and altogether lovable, read him a lesson + out of the book of the overcomers. + </p> + <p> + He smiled inwardly and wondered what she would say if she could know to + what battlefield the drumming wheels of the Limited were speeding him. + Would she be loyal to her mentorship and tell him he must win, at whatever + the cost to Mr. Somerville Darrah and his business associates? Or would + she, womanlike, be her uncle's partizan and write one John Winton down in + her blackest book for daring to oppose the Rajah? + </p> + <p> + He assured himself it would make no jot of difference if he knew. He had a + thing to do, and he was purposed to do it strenuously, inflexibly. Yet in + the inmost chamber of his heart, where the barbarian ego stands unabashed + and isolate and recklessly contemptuous of the moralities minor and major, + he saw the birth of an influence which inevitably must henceforth be + desperately reckoned with. + </p> + <p> + Given a name, this new-born life-factor was love; love barely awakened, + and as yet no more than a masterful desire to stand well in the eyes of + one woman. None the less, he saw the possibilities: that a time might come + when this woman would have the power to intervene; would make him hold his + hand in the business affair at the very moment, mayhap, when he should + strike the hardest. + </p> + <p> + It was a rather unnerving thought, and when he considered it he was glad + that their ways, coinciding for the moment, would presently go apart, + leaving him free to do battle as an honest soldier in any cause must. + </p> + <p> + The Rosemary party was rising, and Winton rose, too, folding the seat for + Miss Virginia and carefully reaching her wrap from the rack. + </p> + <p> + “I am so glad to have met you,” she said, giving him the tips of her + fingers and going back to the conventionalities as if they had never been + ignored. + </p> + <p> + But the sincerity in Winton's reply transcended the conventional form of + it. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, the pleasure has been wholly mine, I assure you. I hope the + future will be kind to me and let me see more of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Who knows?” she rejoined, smiling at him level-eyed. “The world has been + steadily growing smaller since Shakespeare called it 'narrow.'” + </p> + <p> + He caught quickly at the straw of hope. “Then we need not say good-by?” + </p> + <p> + “No; let it be <i>auf Wiedersehen</i>,” she said; and he stood aside to + allow her to join her party. + </p> + <p> + Two hours later, when Adams was reading in his section and Winton was + smoking his short pipe in the men's compartment and thinking things + unspeakable with Virginia Carteret for a nucleus, there was a series of + sharp whistle-shrieks, a sudden grinding of the brakes, and a jarring stop + of the Limited—a stop not down on the time-card. + </p> + <p> + Winton was among the first to reach the head of the long train. The halt + was in a little depression of the bleak plain, and the train-men were in + conference over a badly-derailed engine when Winton came up. A vast herd + of cattle was lumbering away into the darkness, and a mangled carcass + under the wheels of the locomotive sufficiently explained the accident. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's only the one thing to do,” was the engineer's verdict. + “That's for somebody to mog back to Arroyo to wire for the wreck-wagon.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, by gum! and that means all night,” growled the conductor. + </p> + <p> + There was a stir in the gathering throng of half-alarmed and all-curious + passengers, and a red-faced, white-mustached gentleman, whose soft + southern accent was utterly at variance with his manner, hurled a question + bolt-like at the conductor. + </p> + <p> + “All night, you say, seh? Then we miss ouh Denver connections?” + </p> + <p> + “You can bet to win on that,” was the curt reply. + </p> + <p> + “Damn!” said the ruddy-faced gentleman; and then in a lower tone: “I beg + your pahdon, my deah Virginia; I was totally unaware of your presence.” + </p> + <p> + Winton threw off his overcoat. + </p> + <p> + “If you will take a bit of help from an outsider, I think we needn't wait + for the wrecking-car,” he said to the dubious trainmen. “It's bad, but not + so bad as it looks. What do you say?” + </p> + <p> + Now, as everyone knows, it is not in the nature of operative railway men + to brook interference even of the helpful sort. But they are as quick as + other folk to recognize the man in essence, as well as to know the clan + slogan when they hear it. Winton did not wait for objections, but took + over the command as one in authority. + </p> + <p> + “Think we can't do it? I'll show you. Up on the tank, one of you, and + heave down the jacks and frogs. We'll have her on the steel again before + you can say your prayers.” + </p> + <p> + At the hearty command, churlish reluctance vanished and everybody lent a + willing hand. In two minutes the crew of the Limited knew it was working + under a master. The frogs were adjusted under the derailed wheels, the + jack-screws were braced to lift and push with the nicest accuracy, and all + was ready for the attempt to back the engine in trial. But now the + engineer shook his bead. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't the artist to move her gently enough with all that string o' + dinkeys behind her,” he said unhopefully. + </p> + <p> + “No?” said Winton. “Come up into the cab with and I'll show you how.” And + he climbed to the driver's footboard with the doubting engineer at his + heels. + </p> + <p> + The reversing-lever went over with a clash; the air whistled into the + brakes; and Winton began to ease the throttle open. The steam sang into + the cylinders, the huge machine trembling like a living thing under the + hand of a master. + </p> + <p> + Slowly and by almost imperceptible degrees the life of the pent-up boiler + power crept into the pistons and out through the connecting rods to the + wheels. With the first thrill of the gripping tires Winton leaned from the + window to watch the derailed trucks climb by half-inches up the inclined + planes of the frogs. + </p> + <p> + At the critical instant, when the entire weight of the forward half of the + engine was poising for the drop upon the rails, he gave the precise added + impulse. The big ten-wheeler coughed hoarsely and spat fire; the + driving-wheels made a quick half-turn backward; and a cheer from the + onlookers marked the little triumph of mind over matter. + </p> + <p> + Winton found Miss Carteret holding his overcoat when he swung down from + the cab, and he fancied her enthusiasm was tempered with something + remotely like embarrassment. But she suffered him to walk back to the + private car beside her; and in this sudden retreat from the scene of + action he missed hearing the comments of his fellow craftsmen. + </p> + <p> + “You bet, he's no 'prentice,” said the fireman. + </p> + <p> + “Not much!” quoth the engineer. “He's an all-round artist, that's about + what he is. Shouldn't wonder if he was the travelin' engineer for some + road back in God's country.” + </p> + <p> + “Travelin' nothing!” said the conductor. “More likely he's a train-master, + 'r p'raps a bigger boss than that. Call in the flag, Jim, and we'll be + getting a move.” + </p> + <p> + Oddly enough, the comment on Winton did not pause with the encomiums of + the train crew. When the Limited was once more rushing on its way through + the night, and Virginia and her cousin were safe in the privacy of their + state-room, Miss Carteret added her word. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, Bessie, I think it was Mr. Adams who scored this afternoon?” + she said. + </p> + <p> + “How so?” inquired <i>la petite</i> Bisque, who was too sleepy to be + over-curious. + </p> + <p> + “I think he 'took a rise' out of me, as he puts it. Mr. Winton is + precisely all the kinds of man Mr. Adams said he wasn't.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. IN WHICH AN ITINERARY IS CHANGED + </h2> + <p> + It was late breakfast time when the Transcontinental Limited swept around + the great curve in the eastern fringe of Denver, paused for a registering + moment at “yard limits,” and went clattering in over the switches to come + to rest at the end of its long westward run on the in-track at the Union + Depot. + </p> + <p> + Having wired ahead to have his mail meet him at the yard limits + registering station, Winton was ready to make a dash for the telegraph + office the moment the train stopped. + </p> + <p> + “That is our wagon, over there on the narrow-gage,” he said to Adams, + pointing out the waiting mountain train. “Have the porter transfer our + dunnage, and I'll be with you as soon as I can send a wire or two.” + </p> + <p> + On the way across the broad platform he saw the yard crew cutting out the + Rosemary, and had a glimpse of Miss Virginia clinging to the hand-rail and + enjoying enthusiastically, he fancied, her first view of the mighty hills + to the westward. + </p> + <p> + The temptation to let the telegraphing wait while he went to say good + morning to her was strong, but he resisted it and hastened the more for + the hesitant thought. Nevertheless, when he reached the telegraph office + he found Mr. Somerville Darrah and his secretary there ahead of him, and + he observed that the explosive gentleman who presided over the destinies + of the Colorado and Grand River appeared to be in a more than usually + volcanic frame of mind. + </p> + <p> + Now Winton, though new to the business of building railroads for the Utah + Short Line, was not new to Denver or Colorado. Hence when the Rajah, + followed by his secretarial shadow, had left the office, Winton spoke to + the operator as to a friend. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with Mr. Darrah, Tom? He seems to be uncommonly + vindictive this morning.” + </p> + <p> + The man of dots and dashes nodded. + </p> + <p> + “He's always crankier this time than he was the other. He's a holy terror, + the Rajah is. I wouldn't work on his road for a farm down East—not + if my job took me within cussing distance of him. Bet a hen worth fifty + dollars he is up in Mr. Colbert's office right now, raising particular + sand because his special engine wasn't standing here ready to snatch his + private car on the fly, so's to go on without losing headway.” + </p> + <p> + Winton frowned thoughtfully, and he let his writing hand pause while he + said, “So he travels special from Denver, does he?” + </p> + <p> + “On his own road?—well, I should smile. Nothing is too good for the + Rajah; or too quick, when he happens to be in a hurry. I wonder he didn't + have the T. C. pull him special from Kansas City.” + </p> + <p> + Winton handed in his batch of telegrams and went his way reflective. + </p> + <p> + What was Mr. Somerville Darrah's particular rush? As set forth by Adams, + the plans of the party in the Rosemary contemplated nothing more hasty + than a leisurely trip to the Pacific coast—a pleasure jaunt with a + winter sojourn in California to lengthen it. Why, then, this sudden change + from Limited regular trains to unlimited specials? Was there fresh news + from the seat of war in Quartz Creek Canyon? Winton thought not. In that + case he would have had his budget as well; and so far as his own advices + went, matters were still as they had been. A letter from the Utah + attorneys in Carbonate assured him that the injunction appeal was not yet + decided, and another from Chief of Construction Evarts concerned itself + mainly with the major's desire to know when he was to be relieved. + </p> + <p> + But if Winton could have been an eavesdropper behind the door of + Superintendent Colbert's office on the second floor of the Union Depot, + his doubts would have been resolved instantly. + </p> + <p> + The telegraph operator's guess went straight to the mark. Mr. Darrah was + “raising particular sand” because his wire order for a special engine had + not been obeyed to the saving of the ultimate second of time. But between + his objurgations on that score, he was rasping out questions designed to + exhaust the chief clerk's store of information concerning the status of + affairs at the seat of war. + </p> + <p> + “Will you inform me, seh, why I wasn't wired that this beggahly appeal was + going against us?” he demanded wrathfully. “What's that you say, seh? + Don't tell me you couldn't know what the decision of the cou't was going + to be before it was handed down: that's what you-all are heah for—to + find out these things! And what is all this about Majah Eva'ts resigning, + and the Utah's sending East for a professional right-of-way fighteh to + take his place? Who is this new man? Don't know? Dammit, seh! it's your + business to know! <i>Now when do you faveh me with my engine</i>?” + </p> + <p> + Thus the Rajah; and the chief clerk, himself known from end to end of the + Colorado and Grand River as a queller of men, could only point out of the + window to where the Rosemary stood engined and equipped for the race, and + say meekly: “I'm awfully sorry you've been delayed, Mr. Darrah; very + sorry, indeed. But your car is ready now. Shall I go along to be on hand + if you need me?” + </p> + <p> + “No, seh!” stormed the irate master; and the chief clerk's face became + instantly expressive of the keenest relief. “You stay right heah and see + that the wires to Qua'tz Creek are kept open—wide open, seh. And + when you get an ordeh from me—for an engine, a regiment of the + National Gyua'd, or a train-load of white elephants—you fill it. Do + you understand, seh?” + </p> + <p> + Meantime, while this scene was getting itself enacted in the + superintendent's office, a mild fire of consternation was alight in the + gathering room of the Rosemary. As we have guessed, Winton's packet of + mail was not the only one which was delivered by special arrangement that + morning to the incoming Limited at the yard registering station. There had + been another, addressed to Mr. Somerville Darrah; and when he had opened + it there had been a volcanic explosion and a hurried dash for the + telegraph office, as recorded. + </p> + <p> + Sifted out by the Reverend Billy, and explained by him to Mrs. Carteret + and Bessie, the firing spark of the explosion appeared to be some news of + an untoward character from a place vaguely designated as “the front.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems that there is some sort of a right-of-way scrimmage going on up + in the mountains between our road and the Utah Short Line,” said the young + man. “It was carried into the courts, and now it turns out that the + decision has gone against us.” + </p> + <p> + “How perfectly horrid!” said Miss Bessie. “Now I suppose we shall have to + stay here indefinitely while Uncle Somerville does things.” And placid + Mrs. Carteret added plaintively: “It's too bad! I think they might let him + have one little vacation in peace.” + </p> + <p> + “Who talks of peace?” queried Virginia, driven in from her post of vantage + on the observation platform by the smoke from the switching-engine. + “Didn't I see Uncle Somerville charging across to the telegraph office + with war written out large in every line of him?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid you did,” affirmed the Reverend Billy; and thereupon the + explanation was rehearsed for Virginia's benefit. + </p> + <p> + The brown eyes flashed militant sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wish Uncle Somerville would go to 'the front,' wherever that is, + and take us along!” she cried. “It would be ever so much better than + California.” + </p> + <p> + The Reverend William laughed; and Aunt Martha put in her word of + expostulation, as in duty bound. + </p> + <p> + “Why, my dear Virginia—the idea! You don't know in the least what + you are talking about. I have been reading in the papers about these + right-of-way troubles, and they are perfectly terrible. One report said + they were arming the laboring men, and another said the militia might have + to be called out.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what of it?” said Virginia, with all the hardihood of youth and + unknowledge. “It's something like a burning building: one doesn't want to + be hard-hearted and rejoice over other people's misfortunes; but then, if + it has to burn, one would like to be there to see.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Bessie put a stray lock of the flaxen hair up under its proper comb. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure I prefer California and the orange-groves and peace,” she + asserted. “Don't you, Cousin Billy?” + </p> + <p> + What Mr. Calvert would have replied is no matter for this history, since + at this precise moment the Rajah came in, “coruscating,” as Virginia put + it, from his late encounter with the superintendent's chief clerk. + </p> + <p> + “Give them the word to go, Jastrow, and let's get out of heah,” he + commanded. And when the secretary had vanished the Rajah made his + explanations to all and sundry. “I've been obliged in a manneh to change + ouh itinerary. Anotheh company is trying to fault us up in Qua'tz Creek + Canyon, and I am in a meashuh compelled to be on the ground. We shall be + delayed only a few days, I hope; at the worst only until the first + snow-storm comes; and, in the meantime, Califo'nia won't run away.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia clapped her hands. + </p> + <p> + “Then we are really to go to 'the front' and see a right-of-way fight? Oh, + won't that be perfectly intoxicating!” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah glared at her as if she had said something incendiary. The + picturesque aspect of the struggle had evidently not appealed to him. But + he smiled grimly when he said: “Now there spoke the blood of the fighting + Carterets: hope you won't change your mind, my deah.” And with that he + dived into his working den, pushing the lately-returned secretary in ahead + of him. + </p> + <p> + Virginia linked arms with Bessie, the flaxen-haired, when the wheels began + to turn. + </p> + <p> + “We are off,” she said. “Let's go out on the platform and see the last of + Denver.” + </p> + <p> + It was while they were clinging to the hand-rail, and looking back upon + the jumble of railway activities out of which they had just emerged that + the Rosemary, gaining headway, overtook another moving train running + smoothly on a track parallel to that upon which the private car was + speeding. It was the narrow-gage mountain connection of the Utah line, and + Winton and Adams were on the rear platform of the last car. So it chanced + that the four of them were presently waving their adieus across the + wind-blown interspace. In the midst of it, or rather at the moment when + the Rosemary, gathering speed as the lighter of the two trains, forged + ahead, the Rajah came out to light his cigar. + </p> + <p> + He took in the little tableau of the rear platforms at a glance, and when + the slower train was left behind asked a question of Virginia. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—wasn't one of those two the young gentleman who called on you + yestehday afternoon, my deah?” + </p> + <p> + Virginia admitted it. + </p> + <p> + “Could you faveh me with his name?” + </p> + <p> + “He is Mr. Morton P. Adams, of Boston.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah-h! and his friend—the young gentleman who laid his hand to ouh + plow and put the engine on the track last night?” + </p> + <p> + “He is Mr. Winton—a—an artist, I believe; at least, that is + what I gathered from what Mr. Adams said of him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Somerville Darrah laughed, a slow little laugh, deep in his chest. + </p> + <p> + “Bless youh innocent soul—he a picchuh—painteh? Not in a + thousand yeahs, my deah Virginia. He is a railroad man, and a right good + one at that. Faveh me with the name again; Winteh, did you say?” + </p> + <p> + “No; Winton—Mr. John Winton.” + </p> + <p> + “D-d-devil!” gritted the Rajah, smiting the hand-rail with his clenched + fist. “Hah! I beg your pahdon, my deahs—a meah slip of the tongue.” + And then, to the full as savagely: “By Heaven, I hope that train will fly + the track and ditch him before eveh he comes within ordering distance of + the work in Qua'tz Creek Canyon!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Uncle Somerville—how vindictive!” cried Virginia. “Who is he, + and what has he done?” + </p> + <p> + “He is Misteh John Winton, as you informed me just now; one of the + brainiest constructing engineers in this entiah country, and the hardest + man in this or any otheh country to down in a right-of-way fight—that's + who he is. And it's not what he's done, my deah Virginia, it's what he is + going to do. If I can't get him killed up out of ouh way,”—but here + Mr. Darrah saw the growing terror in two pairs of eyes, and realizing that + he was committing himself before an unsympathetic audience, beat a hasty + retreat to his stronghold at the other end of the Rosemary. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” said the flaxen-haired Bessie, catching her breath. But Virginia + laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad I'm not Mr. Winton,” she said. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. THE CRYSTALLINE ALTITUDES + </h2> + <p> + Morning in the highest highlands of the Rockies, a morning clear, cold, + and tense, with a bell-like quality in the frosty air to make the cracking + of a snow-laden spruce-bough resound like a pistol-shot. For Denver and + the dwellers on the eastern plain the sun is an hour high; but the hamlet + mining-camp of Argentine, with its dovecote railway station and + two-pronged siding, still lies in the steel-blue depths of the canyon + shadow. + </p> + <p> + Massive mountains, dark green to the timber line and dazzling white above + it, shut in the narrow valley to right and left. A mimic torrent, + ice-bound in the quieter pools, drums and gurgles on its descent midway + between two railway embankments, the one to which the station and + side-tracks belong, old and well-settled, the other new and as yet + unballasted. Just opposite the pygmy station a lateral gorge intersects + the main canyon, making a deep gash in the opposing mountain bulwark, + around which the new line has to find its way by a looping detour. + </p> + <p> + In a scanty widening of the main canyon a few hundred yards below the + station a graders' camp of rude slab shelters is turning out its horde of + wild-looking Italians; and on a crooked spur track fronting the shanties + blue wood-smoke is curling lazily upward from the kitchen car of a + construction train. + </p> + <p> + All night long the Rosemary, drawn by the sturdiest of mountain-climbing + locomotives, had stormed onward and upward from the valley of the Grand, + through black defiles and around the shrugged shoulders of the mighty + peaks to find a resting-place in the white-robed dawn on the siding at + Argentine. The lightest of sleepers, Virginia had awakened when the + special was passing through Carbonate; and, drawing the berth curtain, she + had lain for an hour watching the solemn procession of cliffs and peaks + wheeling in stately and orderly array against the inky background of sky. + Now, in the steel-blue dawn, she was—or thought she was—the + first member of the party to dress and steal out upon the railed platform + to look abroad upon the wondrous scene in the canyon. + </p> + <p> + But her reverie, trance-like in its wordless enthusiasm, was presently + broken by a voice behind her—the voice, namely, of Mr. Arthur + Jastrow. + </p> + <p> + “What a howling wilderness, to be sure, isn't it?” said the secretary, + twirling his eyeglasses by the cord and looking, as he felt, interminably + bored. + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed; anything but that,” she retorted warmly. “It is grander than + anything I ever imagined. I wish there were a piano in the car. It makes + me fairly ache to set it in some form of expression, and music is the only + form I know.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad if it doesn't bore you,” he rejoined, willing to agree with her + for the sake of prolonging the interview. “But to me it is nothing more + than a dreary wilderness, as I say; a barren, rock-ribbed gulch affording + an indifferent right of way for two railroads.” + </p> + <p> + “For one,” she corrected, in a quick upflash of loyalty for her kin. + </p> + <p> + The secretary shifted his gaze from the mountains to the maiden and + smiled. She was exceedingly good to look upon—high-bred, queenly, + and just now the fine fire of enthusiasm quickened her pulses and sent the + rare flush to neck and cheek. + </p> + <p> + Jastrow the cold-eyed, the business automaton, set to go off with a click + at Mr. Somerville Darrah's touch, had ambitions not automatic. Some day he + meant to put the world of business under foot as a conqueror, standing + triumphant on the apex of that pyramid of success which the Mr. Somerville + Darrahs were so painstakingly uprearing. When that day should come, there + would need to be an establishment, a menage, a queen for the kingdom of + success. Summing her up for the hundredth time since the beginning of the + westward flight, he thought Miss Carteret would fill the requirements + passing well. + </p> + <p> + But this was a divagation, and he pulled himself back to the askings of + the moment, agreeing with her again without reference to his private + convictions. + </p> + <p> + “For one, I should have said,” he amended. “We mean to have it that way, + though an unprejudiced onlooker might be foolish enough to say that there + is a pretty good present prospect of two.” + </p> + <p> + But Miss Carteret was in a contradictory mood. Moreover, she was a woman, + and the way to a woman's confidence does not lie through the neutral + country of easy compliance. + </p> + <p> + “If you won't take the other side, I will,” she said. “There will be two.” + </p> + <p> + Jastrow acquiesced a second time. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't wonder. Our competitor's road seems to be only a question of + time—a very short time, judging from the number of men turning out + in the track gang down yonder.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia leaned over the railing to look past the car and the dovecote + station shading her eyes to shut out the snow-blink from the sun-fired + peaks. + </p> + <p> + “Why, they are soldiers!” she exclaimed. “At least, some of them have guns + on their shoulders. And see—they are forming in line!” + </p> + <p> + The secretary adjusted his eye-glasses. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! you are right; they have armed the track force. The new chief of + construction doesn't mean to take any chances of being shaken loose by + main strength. Here they come.” + </p> + <p> + The end of track of the new line was diagonally across the creek from the + Rosemary's berth and a short pistol-shot farther down stream. But to + advance it to a point opposite the private car, and to gain the altitude + of the high embankment directly across from the station, the new line + turned short out of the main canyon at the mouth of the intersecting + gorge, describing a long, U-shaped curve around the head of the lateral + ravine and doubling back upon itself to reenter the canyon proper at the + higher elevation. + </p> + <p> + The curve which was the beginning of this U-shaped loop was the morning's + scene of action, and the Utah track-layers, two hundred strong, moved to + the front in orderly array, with armed guards as flankers for the handcar + load of rails which the men were pushing up the grade. + </p> + <p> + Jastrow darted into the car, and a moment later his place on the + observation platform was taken by a wrathful industry colonel fresh from + his dressing-room—so fresh, indeed, that he was coatless, hatless, + and collarless, and with the dripping bath-sponge clutched like a missile + to hurl at the impudent invaders on the opposite side of the canyon. + </p> + <p> + “Hah! wouldn't wait until a man could get into his clothes!” he rasped, + apostrophizing the Utah's new chief of construction. “Jastrow! Faveh me + instantly, seh! Hustle up to the camp there and turn out the constable, + town-marshal, or whatever he is. Tell him I have a writ for him to serve. + Run, seh!” + </p> + <p> + The secretary appeared and disappeared like a marionette when the string + has been jerked by a vigorous hand, and Virginia smiled—this without + prejudice to a very acute appreciation of the grave possibilities which + were preparing themselves. But having her share of the militant quality + which made her uncle what he was, she stood her ground. + </p> + <p> + “Aren't you afraid you will take cold, Uncle Somerville?” she asked + archly; and the Rajah came suddenly to a sense of his incompleteness and + went in to finish his ablutions against the opening of the battle actual. + </p> + <p> + At first Virginia thought she would follow him. When Mercury Jastrow + should return with the officer of the law there would be trouble of some + sort, and the woman in her shrank from the witnessing of it. But at the + same instant the blood of the fighting Carterets asserted itself and she + resolved to stay. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what uncle hopes to be able to do?” she mused. “Will a little + town constable with a bit of signed paper from some lawyer or judge be + mighty enough to stop all that furious activity over there? It's more than + incredible.” + </p> + <p> + From that she fell to watching the activity and the orderly purpose of it. + A length of steel, with men clustering like bees upon it, would slide from + its place on the hand-car to fall with a frosty clang on the cross-ties. + Instantly the hammermen would pounce upon it. One would fall upon hands + and knees to “sight” it into place; two others would slide the squeaking + track-gage along its inner edge; a quartet, working like the component + parts of a faultless mechanism, would tap the fixing spikes into the wood; + and then at a signal a dozen of the heavy pointed hammers swung aloft and + a rhythmic volley of resounding blows clamped the rail into permanence on + its wooden bed. + </p> + <p> + Ahead of the steel-layers were the Italians placing the cross-ties in + position to receive the track, and here the foreman's badge of office and + scepter was a pick-handle. Above all the clamor and the shoutings Virginia + could hear the bull-bellow of this foreman roaring out his commands—in + terms happily not understandable to her; and once she drew back with a + little cry of womanly shrinking when the pick-handle thwacked upon the + shoulders of one who lagged. + </p> + <p> + It was this bit of brutality which enabled her to single out Winton in the + throng of workers. He heard the blow, and the oath that went with it, and + she saw him run forward to wrench the bludgeon from the bully's hands and + fling it afar. What words emphasized the act she could not hear, but the + little deed of swift justice thrilled her curiously, and her heart warmed + to him as it had when he had thrown off his coat to fall to work on the + derailed engine of the Limited. + </p> + <p> + “That was fine!” she said to herself. “Most men in his place wouldn't + care, so long as the work was done, and done quickly. I wonder if—oh, + you startled me!” + </p> + <p> + It was Mr. Somerville Darrah again, clothed upon and in his right mind; + otherwise the mind of a master of men who will brook neither defeat at the + hands of an antagonist nor disobedience on the part of his following. He + was scowling fiercely across at the Utah activities when she spoke, but at + her exclamation the frown softened into a smile for his favorite niece. + </p> + <p> + “Startled you, eh? Pahdon me, my deah Virginia. But as I am about to + startle some one else, perhaps you would better go in to your aunt.” + </p> + <p> + She put a hand on his arm. “Please let me stay out here, Uncle + Somerville,” she said. “I'll be good and not get in the way.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head, in deprecation rather than in refusal. + </p> + <p> + “An officer will be here right soon now to make an arrest. There may be a + fight, or at least trouble of a sort you wouldn't care to see, my deah.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it—is it Mr. Winton?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “What has he been doing—besides being 'The Enemy'?” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah's smile was ferocious. + </p> + <p> + “Just now he is trespassing, and directing others to trespass, upon + private property. Do you see that dump up there on the mountain?—the + hole that looks like a mouth with a long gray beard hanging below it? That + is a mine, and its claim runs down across the track where Misteh Winton is + just now spiking his rails.” + </p> + <p> + “But, I don't understand,” she began; then she stopped short and clung to + the strong arm. A man in a wide-flapped hat and cowboy <i>chaparejos</i>, + with a revolver on either hip, was crossing the stream on the ice-bridge + to scramble up the embankment of the new line. + </p> + <p> + “The officer?” she asked in an awed whisper. + </p> + <p> + The Rajah made a sign of assent. Then, identifying Winton in the throng of + workers, he forgot Virginia's presence. “Confound him!” he fumed. “I'd + give a thousand dollars if he'd faveh me by showing fight so we could lock + him up on a criminal count!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Uncle Somerville!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + But there was no time for reproaches. The leather-breeched person parading + as the Argentine town-marshal had climbed the embankment, and, singling + out his man, was reading his warrant. + </p> + <p> + Contrary to Mr. Darrah's expressed hope, Winton submitted quietly. With a + word to his men—a word that stopped the strenuous labor-battle as + suddenly as it had begun—he turned to pick his way down the rough + hillside at the heels of the marshal. + </p> + <p> + For some reason that she could never have set out in words Virginia was + distinctly disappointed. It was no part of her desire to see the conflict + blaze up in violence, but it nettled her to see Winton give up so easily. + Some such thought as this had possession of her while the marshal and his + prisoner were picking their way across the ice, and she was hoping that + Winton would give her a chance to requite him, if only with a look. + </p> + <p> + But it was Town-Marshal Peter Biggin, affectionately known to his + constituents as “Bigginjin Pete,” who gave her the coveted opportunity. + Instead of disappearing decently with his captive, the marshal made the + mistake of his life by marching Winton up the track to the private car, + thrusting him forward, and saying: “Here's yer meat, Guv'nor. What-all 'ud + ye like fer me to do with hit now I've got it?” + </p> + <p> + Now it is safe to assume that the Rajah had no intention of appearing thus + openly as the instigator of Winton's arrest. Hence, if a fierce scowl and + a wordless oath could maim, it is to be feared that the overzealous Mr. + Biggin would have been physically disqualified on the spot. As it was, Mr. + Darrah's ebullient wrath could find no adequate speech forms, and in the + eloquent little pause Winton had time to smile up at Miss Carteret and to + wish her the pleasantest of good-mornings. + </p> + <p> + But the Rajah's handicap was not permanent. + </p> + <p> + “Confound you, seh!” he exploded. “I'm not a justice of the peace! If + you've made an arrest, you must have had a warrant for it, and you ought + to know what to do with your prisoneh.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm dashed if I do,” objected the simple-hearted Mr. Biggin. “I allowed + you wanted him.” + </p> + <p> + Winton laughed openly. + </p> + <p> + “Simplify it for him, Mr. Darrah. We all know that it was your move to + stop the work, and you have stopped it—for the moment. What is the + charge, and where is it answerable?” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah dropped the mask and spoke to the point. + </p> + <p> + “The cha'ge, seh, is trespass, and it is answerable in Judge Whitcomb's + cou't in Carbonate. The plaintiff in this particular case is John Doe, the + supposable owneh of that mining claim up yondeh. In the next it will + probably be Richa'd Roe. You are fighting a losing battle, seh.” + </p> + <p> + Winton's smile showed his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “That remains to be seen,” he countered coolly. + </p> + <p> + The Rajah waved a shapely hand toward the opposite embankment, where the + tracklayers were idling in silent groups waiting for some one in authority + to tell them what to do. + </p> + <p> + “We can do that every day, Misteh Winton. And each separate individual + arrest will cost your company twelve hours, or such a matteh—the + time required for you to go to Carbonate to give bond for your + appearance.” + </p> + <p> + During this colloquy Virginia had held her ground stubbornly, this though + she felt intuitively that it would be the greatest possible relief to all + three of these men if she would go away. + </p> + <p> + But now a curious struggle as of a divided allegiance was holding her. Of + course, she wanted Mr. Somerville Darrah to win. Since he was its + advocate, his cause must be righteous and just. But against this dutiful + convincement there was a rebellious hope that Winton would not allow + himself to be beaten; or, rather, it was a feeling that she would never + forgive him if he should. + </p> + <p> + So it was that she stood with face averted lest he should see her eyes and + read the rebellious hope in them. And in spite of the precaution he both + saw and read, and made answer to the Rajah's ultimatum accordingly. + </p> + <p> + “Do your worst, Mr. Darrah. We have some twenty miles of steel to lay to + take us into the Carbonate yards. That steel shall go down in spite of + anything you can do to prevent it.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia waited breathless for her uncle's reply to this cool defiance. + Quite contrary to all precedent, it was mildly expostulatory. + </p> + <p> + “It grieves me, seh, to find you so determined to cou't failure,” he + began; and when the whistle of the upcoming Carbonate train gave him leave + to go on: “Constable, you will find transpo'tation for yourself and one in + the hands of the station agent. Misteh Winton, that is your train. I wish + you good-morning and a pleasant journey. Come, Virginia, we shall be late + to ouh breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + Winton walked back to the station at the heels of his captor, cudgeling + his brain to devise some means of getting word to Adams. Happily the + Technologian, who had been unloading steel at the construction camp, had + been told of the arrest, and when Winton reached the station he found his + assistant waiting for him. + </p> + <p> + But now the train was at hand and time had grown suddenly precious. Winton + turned short upon the marshal. + </p> + <p> + “This is not a criminal matter, Mr. Biggin: will you give me a moment with + my friend?” + </p> + <p> + The ex-cowboy grinned. “Bet your life I will. I ain't lovin' that old + b'iler-buster in the private car none too hard.” And he went in to get the + passes. + </p> + <p> + “What's up?” queried Adams, forgetting his drawl for once in a way. + </p> + <p> + “An arrest—trumped-up charge of trespass on that mining claim up + yonder. But I've got to go to Carbonate to answer the charge and give + bonds, just the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Any instructions?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. When the train is out of sight and hearing, you get back over there + and drive that track-laying for every foot there is in it.” + </p> + <p> + Adams nodded. “I'll do it, and get myself locked up, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you won't; that's the beauty of it. The majesty of the law—all + there is of it in Argentine—goes with me to Carbonate in the person + of the town-marshal.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, good—succulently good! Well, so long. I'll look for you back on + the evening train?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” was the confident reply, “if the Rajah doesn't order it to be + abandoned on my poor account.” + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later, when the train had gone storming on its way to + Carbonate and the Rosemary party was at breakfast, the clank of steel and + the chanteys of the hammermen on the other side of the canyon began again + with renewed vigor. The Rajah threw up his head like a war-horse scenting + the battle from afar and laid his commands upon the long-suffering + secretary. + </p> + <p> + “Faveh me, Jastrow. Get out there and see what they are doing, seh.” + </p> + <p> + The secretary was back in the shortest possible interval, and his report + was concise and business-like. + </p> + <p> + “Work under full headway again, in charge of a fellow who wears a + billy-cock hat and smokes cigarettes.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Morton P. Adams,” said Virginia, recognizing the description. “Will + you have him arrested too, Uncle Somerville?” + </p> + <p> + But the Rajah rose hastily without replying and went to his office + state-room, followed, shadow-like, by the obsequious Jastrow. + </p> + <p> + It was some little time after breakfast, and Virginia and the Reverend + Billy were doing a constitutional on the plank platform at the station, + when the secretary came down from the car on his way to the telegraph + office. + </p> + <p> + It was Virginia who stopped him. “What do we do next, Mr. Jastrow?” she + said; “call in the United States Army?” + </p> + <p> + For reply he handed her a telegram, damp from the copying press. It was + addressed to the superintendent of the C. G. R. at Carbonate, and she read + it without scruple. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Have the Sheriff of Ute County swear in a dozen deputies and come + with them by special train to Argentine. Revive all possible titles + to abandoned mining claims on line of the Utah Extension, and have + Sheriff Deckert bring blank warrants to cover any emergency. + + “DARRAH V.-P.” + </pre> + <p> + “That's one of them,” said the secretary. “I daren't show you the other.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, please!” she said, holding out her hand, while the Reverend Billy + considerately turned his back. + </p> + <p> + Jastrow weighed the chances of detection. It was little enough he could do + to lay her under obligations to him, and he was willing to do that little + as he could. “I guess I can trust you,” he said, and gave her the second + square of press-damp paper. + </p> + <p> + Like the first, it was addressed to the superintendent at Carbonate. But + this time the brown eyes flashed and her breath came quickly as she read + the vice-president's cold-blooded after-thought: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Town-Marshal Biggin will arrive in Carbonate on Number 201 this + A.M. with a prisoner. Have our attorneys see to it that the man is + promptly jailed in default of bond. If he is set at liberty, as he + is likely to be, I shall trust you to arrange for his rearrest and + detention at all hazards. + + “D.” + </pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. THE LANDSLIDE + </h2> + <p> + Virginia took the first step in the perilous path of the strategist when + she handed the incendiary telegram back to Jastrow. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Mr. Winton!” she said, with the real sympathy in the words made most + obviously perfunctory by the tone. “What a world of possibilities there is + masquerading behind that little word 'arrange.' Tell me more about it, Mr. + Jastrow. How will they 'arrange' it?” + </p> + <p> + “Winton's rearrest? Nothing easier in a tough mining-camp like Carbonate, + I should say.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but how?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't prophesy how Grafton will go about it, but I know what I should + do.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia's smile was irresistible, but there was a look in the deepest + depth of the brown eyes that was sifting Mr. Arthur Jastrow to the + innermost sand-heap of his desert nature. + </p> + <p> + “How would you do it, Mr. Napoleon Jastrow?” she asked, giving him the + exact fillip on the side of gratified vanity. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'd fix him. He is in a frame of mind right now; and by the time the + lawyers are through drilling him in the trespass affair, he'll be just + spoiling for a row with somebody.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so? Oh, how delicious! And then what?” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'd hire some plug-ugly to stumble up against him and pick a quarrel + with him. He'd do the rest—and land in the lock-up.” + </p> + <p> + Those who knew her best said it was a warning to be heeded in Miss + Virginia Carteret when her eyes were downcast and her voice sank to its + softest cadence. + </p> + <p> + “Why, certainly; how simple!” she said, taking her cousin's arm again; and + the secretary went in to set the wires at work in Winton's affair. + </p> + <p> + Now Miss Carteret was a woman in every fiber of her, but among her gifts + she might have counted some that were, to say the least, super-feminine. + One of these was a measure of discretion which would have been fairly + creditable in a past master of diplomacy. So, while the sympathetic part + of her was crying out for a chance to talk Winton's threatened danger over + with some one, she lent herself outwardly to the Reverend Billy's mood—which + was one of scenic enthusiasm; this without prejudice to a growing + determination to intervene in behalf of fair play for Winton if she could + find a way. + </p> + <p> + But the way obstinately refused to discover itself. The simple thing to do + would be to appeal to her uncle's sense of justice. It was not like him to + fight with ignoble weapons, she thought, and a tactful word in season + might make him recall the order to the superintendent. But she could not + make the appeal without betraying Jastrow. She knew well enough that the + secretary had no right to show her the telegrams; knew also that Mr. + Somerville Darrah's first word would be a demand to know how she had + learned the company's business secrets. Regarding Jastrow as little as a + high-bred young woman to whom sentiment is as the breath of life can + regard a man who is quite devoid of it, she was still far enough from the + thought of effacing him. + </p> + <p> + To this expedient there was an unhopeful alternative: namely, the sending, + by the Reverend Billy, or, in the last resort, by herself, of a warning + message to Winton. But there were obstacles seemingly insuperable. She had + not the faintest notion of how such a warning should be addressed; and + again, the operator at Argentine was a Colorado and Grand River employee, + doubtless loyal to his salt, in which case the warning message would never + get beyond his waste-basket. + </p> + <p> + “Getting too chilly for you out here? Want to go in?” asked the Reverend + Billy, when the scenic enthusiasm began to outwear itself. + </p> + <p> + “No; but I am tired of the sentry-go part of it—ten steps and a + turn,” she confessed. “Can't we walk on the track a little way?” + </p> + <p> + Calvert saw no reason why they might not, and accordingly helped her over + to the snow-encrusted path between the rails. + </p> + <p> + “We can trot down and have a look at their construction camp, if you + like,” he suggested, and thitherward they went. + </p> + <p> + There was not much to see, after all, as the Reverend Billy remarked when + they had reached a coign of vantage below the curve. A string of use-worn + bunk cars; a “dinkey” caboose serving as the home on wheels of the chief + of construction and his assistant; a crooked siding with a gang of + dark-skinned laborers at work unloading a car of steel. These in the + immediate foreground; and a little way apart, perched high enough on the + steep slope of the mountain side to be out of the camp turmoil, a small + structure, half plank and half canvas—to wit, the end-of-track + telegraph office. + </p> + <p> + It was Virginia who first marked the boxed-up tent standing on the slope. + </p> + <p> + “What do you suppose that little house-tent is for?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Calvert. Then he saw the wires and ventured a guess + which hit the mark. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't suppose they would have a telegraph office,” she commented, with + hope rising again. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; they'd have to have a wire—one of their own. Under the + circumstances they could hardly use ours.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she rejoined absently. She was scanning the group of steel-handlers + in the hope that a young man in a billy-cock hat and with a cigarette + between his lips would shortly reveal himself. She found him after a time + and turned quickly to her cousin. + </p> + <p> + “There is Mr. Adams down by the engine. Do you think he would come over + and speak to us if he knew we were here?” + </p> + <p> + The Reverend Billy's smile was of honest admiration. + </p> + <p> + “How could you doubt it? Wait here a minute and I'll call him for you.” + </p> + <p> + He was gone before she could reply—across the ice-bridge spanning + one of the pools, and up the rough, frozen embankment of the new line. + There were armed guards here, too, as well as at the front, and one of + them halted him at the picket line. But Adams saw and recognized him, and + presently the two were crossing to where Virginia stood waiting for them. + </p> + <p> + “Eheu! what a little world we live in, Miss Virginia! Who would have + thought of meeting you here?” said Adams, taking her hand at the precise + elevation prescribed by good form—Boston good form. + </p> + <p> + “The shock is mutual,” she laughed. “I must say that you and Mr. Winton + have chosen a highly unconventional environment for your sketching-field.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm down,” he admitted cheerfully; “please don't trample on me. But + really, it wasn't all fib. Jack does do things with a pencil—other + things besides maps and working profiles, I mean. Won't you come over and + let me do the honors of the studio?”—with a grandiloquent arm-sweep + meant to include the construction camp in general and the “dinkey” + caboose-car in particular. + </p> + <p> + It was the invitation she would have angled for, but she was too wise to + assent too readily. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; I think we mustn't. I'm afraid Mr. Winton might not like it.” + </p> + <p> + “Not like it? If you'll come he'll never forgive himself for not being + here to 'shoot up' the camp for you in person. He is away, you know; gone + to Carbonate for the day.” + </p> + <p> + “Ought we to go, Cousin Billy?” she asked, shifting, not the decision, but + the responsibility for it, to broader shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Why not, if you care to?” said the athlete, to whom right-of-way fights + were mere matters of business in no wise conflicting with the social + ameliorations. + </p> + <p> + Virginia hesitated. There was a thing to be said to Mr. Adams, and that + without delay; but how could she say it with her cousin standing by to + make an impossible trio out of any attempted duet confidential? A + willingness to see that Winton had fair play need not carry with it an + open desertion to the enemy. She must not forget to be loyal to her salt; + and, besides, Mr. Somerville Darrah's righteous indignation was a + possibility not lightly to be ignored. + </p> + <p> + But, the upshot of the hesitant pause was a decision to brave the + consequences—all of them; so she took Calvert's arm for the slippery + crossing of the ice-bridge. + </p> + <p> + Once on his own domain, Adams did the honors of the camp as thoroughly and + conscientiously as if the hour held no care heavier than the entertainment + of Miss Virginia Carteret. He explained the system under which the + material was kept moving forward to the ever-advancing front; let her + watch the rhythmic swing and slide of the rails from the car to the + benches; took her up into the cab of the big “octopod” locomotive; gave + her a chance to peep into the camp kitchen car; and concluded by handing + her up the steps of the “dinkey.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how comfortable!” she exclaimed, when he had shown her all the + space-saving contrivances of the field office. “And this is where you and + Mr. Winton work?” + </p> + <p> + “It is where we eat and sleep,” corrected Adams. “And speaking of eating: + it is hopelessly the wrong end of the day,—or it would be in Boston,—but + our Chinaman won't know the difference. Let me have him make you a dish of + tea,”—and the order was given before she could protest. + </p> + <p> + “While we are waiting for Ah Foo I'll show you some of Jack's sketches,” + he went on, finding a portfolio and opening it upon the drawing-board. + </p> + <p> + “Are you quite sure Mr. Winton won't mind?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Mind? He'd give a month's pay to be here to show them himself. He is + peacock vain of his one small accomplishment, Winton is—bores me to + death with it sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” was the mocking rejoinder, and they began to look at the + sketches. + </p> + <p> + They were heads, most of them, impressionistic studies in pencil or + pastel, with now and then a pen-and-ink bearing evidence of more + painstaking after-work. They were made on bits of map paper, the backs of + old letters, and not a few on leaves torn from an engineer's note-book. + </p> + <p> + “They don't count for much in an artistic way,” said Adams, with the + brutal frankness of a friendly critic, “but they will serve to show you + that I wasn't all kinds of an embroiderer when I was telling you about + Winton's proclivities the other day.” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't apologize for that, if I were you,” she retorted. “It is well + past apology, don't you think?” And then: “What is this one?” + </p> + <p> + They had come to the last of the sketches, which was a rude map. It was + penciled on the leaf of a memorandum, and Adams recognized it as the + outline Winton had made and used in explaining the right-of-way + entanglement. + </p> + <p> + “It is a map,” he said; “one that Jack drew day before yesterday when he + was trying to make me understand the situation up here. I wonder why he + kept it? Is there anything on the other side?” + </p> + <p> + She turned the leaf, and they both went speechless for the moment. The + reverse of the scrap of cross-ruled paper held a very fair likeness of a + face which Virginia's mirror had oftenest portrayed: a sketch setting + forth in a few vigorous strokes of the pencil the impressionist's ideal of + the “goddess fresh from the bath.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” exclaimed Adams, when he could find the word for his surprise. + Then he tried to turn it off lightly. “There is a good bit more of the + artist in Jack than I have been giving him credit for. Don't you know, he + must have got the notion for that between two half-seconds—when you + recognized me on the platform at Kansas City. It's wonderful!” + </p> + <p> + “So very wonderful that I think I shall keep it,” she rejoined, not + without a touch of austerity. Then she added: “Mr. Winton will probably + never miss it. If he does, you will have to explain the best way you can.” + And Adams could only say “By Jove!” again, and busy himself with pouring + the tea which Ah Foo had brought in. + </p> + <p> + In the nature of things the tea-drinking in the stuffy “dinkey” + drawing-room was not prolonged. Time was flying. Virginia's errand of + mercy was not yet accomplished, and Aunt Martha in her character of + anxious chaperon was not to be forgotten. Also, Miss Carteret had a + feeling that under his well-bred exterior Mr. Morton P. Adams was chafing + like any barbarian industry captain at this unwarrantable intrusion and + interruption. + </p> + <p> + So presently they all forthfared into the sun-bright, snow-blinding, + out-of-door world, and Virginia gathered up her courage and took her + dilemma by the horns. + </p> + <p> + “I believe I have seen everything now except that tent-place up there,” + she asserted, groping purposefully for her opening. + </p> + <p> + Adams called up another smile of acquiescence. “That is our telegraph + office. Would you care to see it?” He was of those who shirk all or shirk + nothing. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know why I should care to, but I do,” she replied, with charming + and childlike wilfulness; so the three of them trudged up the slippery + path to the operator's den on the slope. + </p> + <p> + Not to evade his hospitable duty in any part, Adams explained the use and + need of a “front” wire, and Miss Carteret was properly interested. + </p> + <p> + “How convenient!” she commented. “And you can come up here and talk to + anybody you like—just as if it were a telephone?” + </p> + <p> + “To anyone in the company's service,” amended Adams. “It is not a + commercial wire.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let us send a message to Mr. Winton,” she suggested, playing the + part of the capricious <i>ingenue</i> to the very upcast of a pair of + mischievous eyes. “I'll write it and you may sign it.” + </p> + <p> + Adams stretched his complaisance the necessary additional inch and gave + her a pencil and a pad of blanks. She wrote rapidly: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Miss Carteret has been here admiring your drawings. She took one of + them away with her, and I couldn't stop her without being rude. You + shouldn't have done it without asking her permission. She says—” + </pre> + <p> + “Oh, dear! I am making it awfully long. Does it cost so much a word?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Adams, not without an effort. He was beginning to be distinctly + disappointed in Miss Virginia, and was inwardly wondering what piece of + girlish frivolity he was expected to sign and send to his chief. Meanwhile + she went on writing: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “—I am to tell you not to get into any fresh trouble—not to let + anyone else get you into trouble; by which I infer she means that + some attempt will be made to keep you from returning on the evening + train.” + </pre> + <p> + “There, can you send all that?” she asked sweetly, giving the pad to her + host. + </p> + <p> + Adams read the first part of the letter length telegram with inward + groanings, but the generous purpose of it struck him like a whip-blow when + he came to the thinly-veiled warning. Also it shamed him for his unworthy + judgment of Virginia. + </p> + <p> + “I thank you very heartily, Miss Carteret,” he said humbly. “It shall be + sent word for word.” Then, for the Reverend William's benefit: “Winton + deserves all sorts of a snubbing for taking liberties with your portrait. + I'll see he gets more when he comes back.” + </p> + <p> + Here the matter rested; and, having done what she conceived to be her + charitable duty, Virginia was as anxious to get away as heart—the + heart of a slightly bored Reverend Billy, for instance—could wish. + </p> + <p> + So they bade Adams good-by and picked their way down the frozen embankment + and across the ice-bridge; down and across and back to the Rosemary, where + they found a perturbed chaperon in a flutter of solicitude arising upon + their mysterious disappearance and long absence. + </p> + <p> + “It may be just as well not to tell any of them where we have been,” said + Virginia in an aside to her cousin. And so the incident of tea-drinking in + the enemy's camp was safely put away like a little personal note in its + envelop with the flap gummed down. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. THE RAJAH GIVES AN ORDER + </h2> + <p> + While Adams was dispensing commissary tea in iron-stone china cups to his + two guests in the “dinkey” field office, his chief, taking the Rosemary's + night run in reverse in the company of Town-Marshal Biggin, was turning + the Rajah's coup into a small Utah profit. + </p> + <p> + Having come upon the ground late the night before, and from the opposite + direction, he had seen nothing of the extension grade west of Argentine. + Hence the enforced journey to Carbonate only anticipated an inspection + trip which he had intended to make as soon as he had seated Adams firmly + in the track-laying saddle. + </p> + <p> + Not to miss his opportunity, at the first curve beyond Argentine he passed + his cigar-case to Biggin and asked permission to ride on the rear platform + of the day-coach for inspection purposes. + </p> + <p> + “Say, pardner, what do you take me fer, anyhow?” was the reproachful + rejoinder. + </p> + <p> + “For a gentleman in disguise,” said Winton promptly. + </p> + <p> + “Sim'larly, I do you; savvy? You tell me you ain't goin' to stampede, and + you ride anywhere you blame please. See? This here C. G. R. outfit ain't + got no surcingle on me.” + </p> + <p> + Winton smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I haven't any notion of stampeding. As it happens, I'm only a day ahead + of time. I should have made this run to-morrow of my own accord to have a + look at the extension grade. You will find me on the rear platform when + you want me.” + </p> + <p> + “Good enough,” was the reply; and Winton went to his post of observation. + </p> + <p> + Greatly to his satisfaction, he found that the trip over the C. G. R. + answered every purpose of a preliminary inspection of the Utah grade + beyond Argentine. For seventeen of the twenty miles the two lines were + scarcely more than a stone's throw apart, and when Biggin joined him at + the junction above Carbonate he had his note-book well filled with the + necessary data. + </p> + <p> + “Make it, all right?” inquired the friendly bailiff. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, thanks. Have another cigar?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't care if I do. Say, that old fire-eater back yonder in the private + car has got a mighty pretty gal, ain't he?” + </p> + <p> + “The young lady is his niece,” said Winton, wishing that Mr. Biggin would + find other food for comment. + </p> + <p> + “I don't care; she's pretty as a Jersey two-year-old.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a fine day,” observed Winton; and then, to background Miss Carteret + effectually as a topic: “How do the people of Argentine feel about the + opposition to our line?” + </p> + <p> + “They're red-hot; you can put your money on that. The C. G. R.'s a + sure-enough tail-twister where there ain't no competition. Your road'll + get every pound of ore in the camp if it ever gets through.” + </p> + <p> + Winton made a mental note of this up-cast of public opinion, and set it + over against the friendly attitude of the official Mr. Biggin. It was very + evident that the town-marshal was serving the Rajah's purpose only because + he had to. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you stand with your townsmen on that, don't you?” he ventured. + </p> + <p> + “Now you're shouting: that's me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then if that is the case, we won't take this little holiday of ours any + harder than we can help. When the court business is settled—it won't + take very long—you are to consider yourself my guest. We stop at the + Buckingham.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we do, do we? Say, pardner, that's white—mighty white. If I'd + 'a' been an inch or so more'n half awake this morning when that old + b'iler-buster's hired man routed me out, I'd 'a' told him to go to blazes + with his warrant. Nex' time I will.” + </p> + <p> + Winton shook his head. “There isn't going to be any 'next time,' Peter, my + son,” he prophesied. “When Mr. Darrah gets fairly down to business he'll + throw bigger chunks than the Argentine town-marshal at us.” + </p> + <p> + By this time the train was slowing into Carbonate, and a few minutes after + the stop at the crowded platform they were making their way up the single + bustling street of the town to the court-house. + </p> + <p> + “Ever see so many tin-horns and bunco people bunched in all your + round-ups?” said Biggin, as they elbowed through the uneasy shifting + groups in front of the hotel. + </p> + <p> + “Not often,” Winton admitted. “But it's the luck of the big camps: they + are the dumping-grounds of the world while the high pressure is on.” + </p> + <p> + The ex-range-rider turned on the courthouse steps to look the sidewalk + loungers over with narrowing eyes. + </p> + <p> + “There's Sheeny Mike and Big Otto and half a dozen others right there in + front o' the Buckingham that couldn't stay to breathe twice in Argentine. + And this town's got a po-lice!”—the comment with lip-curling scorn. + </p> + <p> + “It also has a county court which is probably waiting for us,” said + Winton; whereupon they went in to appease the offended majesty of the law. + </p> + <p> + As Winton had predicted, his answer to the court summons was a mere + formality. On parting with his chief at the Argentine station platform, + Adams' first care had been to wire news of the arrest to the Utah + headquarters. Hence Winton found the company's attorney waiting for him in + Judge Whitcomb's courtroom, and his release on an appearance bond was only + a matter of moments. + </p> + <p> + The legal affair dismissed, there ensued a weary interval of time-killing. + There was no train back to Argentine until nearly five o'clock in the + afternoon, and the hours dragged heavily for the two, who had nothing to + do but wait. Biggin endured his part of it manfully till the midday dinner + had been discussed; then he drifted off with one of Winton's cigars + between his teeth, saying that he should “take poison” and shoot up the + town if he could not find some more peaceful means of keeping his blood in + circulation. + </p> + <p> + It was a little after three o'clock, and Winton was sitting at the + writing-table in the lobby of the hotel elaborating his hasty notebook + data of the morning's inspection, when a boy came in with a telegram. The + young engineer was not so deeply engrossed in his work as to be deaf to + the colloquy. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. John Winton? Yes, he is here somewhere,” said the clerk in answer to + the boy's question; and after an identifying glance: “There he is—over + at the writing-table.” + </p> + <p> + Winton turned in his chair and saw the boy coming toward him; also he saw + the ruffian pointed out by Biggin from the court-house steps and labeled + “Sheeny Mike” lounging up to the clerk's desk for a whispered exchange of + words with the bediamonded gentleman behind it. + </p> + <p> + What followed was cataclysmic in its way. The lounger took three + staggering lurches toward Winton, brushed the messenger boy aside, and + burst out in a storm of maudlin invective. + </p> + <p> + “Sign yerself 'Winton' now, do yet ye lowdown, turkey-trodden—” + </p> + <p> + “One minute,” said Winton curtly, taking the telegram from the boy and + signing for it. + </p> + <p> + “I'll give ye more'n ye can carry away in less'n half that time—see?” + was the minatory retort; and the threat was made good by an awkward buffet + which would have knocked the engineer out of his chair if he had remained + in it. + </p> + <p> + Now Winton's eyes were gray and steadfast, but his hair was of that shade + of brown which takes the tint of dull copper in certain lights, and he had + a temper which went with the red in his hair rather than with the gray in + his eyes. Wherefore his attempt to placate his assailant was something + less than diplomatic. + </p> + <p> + “You drunken scoundrel!” he snapped. “If you don't go about your business + and let me alone, I'll turn you over to the police with a broken bone or + two!” + </p> + <p> + The bully's answer was a blow delivered straight from the shoulder—too + straight to harmonize with the fiction of drunkenness. Winton saw the + sober purpose in it and went battle-mad, as a hasty man will. Being a + skilful boxer,—which his antagonist was not,—he did what he + had to do neatly and with commendable despatch. Down, up; down, up; down a + third time, and then the bystanders interfered. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on!” + </p> + <p> + “That'll do!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you see he's drunk?” + </p> + <p> + “Enough's as good as a feast—let him go.” + </p> + <p> + Winton's blood was up, but he desisted, breathing threatenings. Whereat + Biggin shouldered his way into the circle. + </p> + <p> + “Pay your bill and let's hike out o' this, <i>pronto</i>!” he said in a + low tone. “You ain't got no time to fool with a Carbonate justice shop.” + </p> + <p> + But Winton was not to be brought to his senses so easily. + </p> + <p> + “Run away from that swine? Not if I know it. Let him take it into court if + he wants to. I'll be there, too.” + </p> + <p> + The beaten one was up now and apparently looking for an officer. + </p> + <p> + “I'm takin' ye all to witness,” he rasped. “I was on'y askin' him to cash + up what he lost to me las' night, and he jumps me. But I'll stick him if + there's any law in this camp.” + </p> + <p> + Now all this time Winton had been holding the unopened telegram crumpled + in his fist, but when Biggin pushed him out of the circle and thrust him + up to the clerk's desk, he bethought him to read the message. It was + Virginia's warning, signed by Adams, and a single glance at the closing + sentence was enough to cool him suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “Pay the bill, Biggin, and join me in the billiard-room, quick!” he + whispered, pressing money into the town-marshal's hand and losing himself + in the crowd. And when Biggin had obeyed his instructions: “Now for a back + way out of this, if there is one. We'll have to take to the hills till + train time.” + </p> + <p> + They found a way through the bar and out into a side street leading + abruptly up to the spruce-clad hills behind the town. Biggin held his + peace until they were safe from immediate danger of pursuit. Then his + curiosity got the better of him. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't take you more'n a week to change your mind about pullin' it off + with that tinhorn scrapper in the courts, did it?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Winton. + </p> + <p> + “'Tain't none o' my business, but I'd like to know what stampeded you.” + </p> + <p> + “A telegram,”—shortly. “It was a put-up job to have me locked up on + a criminal charge, and so hold me out another day.” + </p> + <p> + Biggin grinned. “The old b'iler-buster again. Say, he's a holy terror, + ain't he?” + </p> + <p> + “He doesn't mean to let me build my railroad if he can help it.” + </p> + <p> + The ex-cowboy found his sack of chip tobacco and dexterously rolled a + cigarette in a bit of brown wrapping-paper. + </p> + <p> + “If that's the game, Mr. Sheeny Mike, or his backers, will be most likely + to play it to a finish, don't you guess?” + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “By havin' a po-liceman layin' for you at the train.” + </p> + <p> + “I hadn't thought of that.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can think you out of it, I reckon. The branch train is a + 'commodation, and it'll stop most anywhere if you throw up your hand at + it. We can take out through the woods and across the hills, and mog up the + track a piece. How'll that do?” + </p> + <p> + “It will do for me, but there is no need of your tramping when you can + just as well ride.” + </p> + <p> + But now that side of Mr. Peter Biggin which endears him and his kind to + every man who has ever shared his lonely round-ups, or broken bread with + him in his comfortless shack, came uppermost. + </p> + <p> + “What do you take me fer?” was the way it vocalized itself; but there was + more than a formal oath of loyal allegiance in the curt question. + </p> + <p> + “For a man and a brother,” said Winton heartily; and they set out together + to waylay the outgoing train at some point beyond the danger limit. + </p> + <p> + It was accomplished without further mishap, and the short winter day was + darkening to twilight when the train came in sight and the engineer slowed + to their signal. They climbed aboard, and when they had found a seat in + the smoker the chief of construction spoke to the ex-cowboy as to a + friend. + </p> + <p> + “I hope Adams has knocked out a good day's work for us,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Your pardner with the store hat and the stinkin' cigaroots?—he's + all right,” said Biggin; and it so chanced that at the precise moment of + the saying the subject of it was standing with the foreman of track-layers + at a gap in the new line just beyond and above the Rosemary's siding at + Argentine, his day's work ended, and his men loaded on the flats for the + run down to camp over the lately-laid rails of the lateral loop. + </p> + <p> + “Not such a bad day, considering the newness of us and the bridge at the + head of the gulch,” he said, half to himself. And then more pointedly to + the foreman: “Bridge-builders to the front at the first crack of dawn, + Mike. Why wasn't this break filled in the grading?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure, sorr, 'tis a dhrain it is,” said the Irishman; “from the placer up + beyant,” he added, pointing to a washed-out excoriation on the steep upper + slope of the mountain. “Major Evarts did be tellin' us we'd have the + lawyers afther us hot-fut again if we didn't be lavin' ut open the full + width.” + </p> + <p> + “Mmph!” said Adams, looking the ground over with a critical eye. “It's a + bad bit. It wouldn't take much to bring that whole slide down on us if it + wasn't frozen solid. Who owns the placer?” + </p> + <p> + “Two fellies over in Carbonate. The company did be thryin' to buy the + claim, but the sharps wouldn't sell—bein' put up to hold ut by thim + C. G. R. divils. It's more throuble we'll be havin' here, I'm thinking.” + </p> + <p> + While they lingered a shrill whistle, echoing like an eldrich laugh among + the cliffs of the upper gorge, announced the coming of a train from the + direction of Carbonate. Adams looked at his watch. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to know what that is,” he mused. “It's an hour too soon for the + accommodation. By Jove!” + </p> + <p> + The exclamation directed itself at a one-car train which came thundering + down the canyon to pull in on the siding beyond the Rosemary. The car was + a passenger coach, well-lighted, and from his post on the embankment Adams + could see armed men filling the windows. Michael Branagan saw them, too, + and the fighting Celt in him rose to the occasion. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis Donnybrook Fair we've come to this time, Misther Adams. Shall I call + up the b'ys wid their guns?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet. Let's wait and see what happens.” + </p> + <p> + What happened was a peaceful sortie. Two men, each with a kit of some kind + borne in a sack, dropped from the car, crossed the creek, and struggled up + the hill through the unbridged gap. Adams waited until they were fairly on + the right of way, then he called down to them. + </p> + <p> + “Halt, there! you two. This is corporation property.” + </p> + <p> + “Not much it ain't!” retorted one of the trespassers gruffly. “It's the + drain-way from our placer up yonder.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do up there at this time of night?” + </p> + <p> + “None o' your blame business!” was the explosive counter-shot. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it isn't,” said Adams mildly. “Just the same, I'm thirsting to + know. Call it vulgar curiosity if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, you can know, and be cussed to you. We're goin' to work our + claim. Got anything to say against it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! no,” rejoined Adams; and when the twain had disappeared in the upper + darkness he went down the grade with Branagan and took his place on the + man-loaded flats for the run to the construction camp, thinking more of + the lately-arrived car with its complement of armed men than of the two + miners who had calmly announced their intention of working a placer claim + on a high mountain, without water, and in the dead of winter! By which it + will be seen that Mr. Morton P. Adams, C. E. M. I. T. Boston, had + something yet to learn in the matter of practical field work. + </p> + <p> + By the time Ah Foo had served him his solitary supper in the dinkey he had + quite forgotten the incident of the mysterious placer miners. Worse than + this, it had never occurred to him to connect their movements with the + Rajah's plan of campaign. On the other hand, he was thinking altogether of + the carload of armed men, and trying to devise some means of finding out + how they were to be employed in furthering the Rajah's designs. + </p> + <p> + The means suggested themselves after supper, and he went alone over to + Argentine to spend a half-hour in the bar of the dance-hall listening to + the gossip of the place. When he had learned what he wanted to know, he + forthfared to meet Winton at the incoming train. + </p> + <p> + “We are in for it now,” he said, when they had crossed the creek to the + dinkey and the Chinaman was bringing Winton's belated supper. “The Rajah + has imported a carload of armed mercenaries, and he is going to clean us + all out to-morrow: arrest everybody from the gang foremen up.” + </p> + <p> + Winton's eyebrows lifted. “So? that is a pretty large contract. Has he men + enough to do it?” + </p> + <p> + “Not so many men. But they are sworn-in deputies, with the sheriff of Ute + County in command—a posse, in fact. So he has the law on his side.” + </p> + <p> + “Which is more than he had when he set a thug on me this afternoon at + Carbonate,” said Winton sourly; and he told Adams about the + misunderstanding in the lobby of the Buckingham. His friend whistled under + his breath. “By Jove! that's pretty rough. Do you suppose the Rajah + dictated any such Lucretia Borgia thing as that?” + </p> + <p> + Winton took time to think about it and admitted a doubt, as he had not + before. Believing Mr. Somerville Darrah fit for treasons, stratagems, and + spoils in his official capacity of vice-president of a fighting + corporation, he was none the less disposed to find excuses for Miss + Virginia Carteret's uncle. + </p> + <p> + “I did think so at first, but I guess it was only the misguided zeal of + some understrapper. Of course, word has gone out all along the C. G. R. + line that we are to be delayed by every possible expedient.” + </p> + <p> + But Adams shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Darrah dictated that move in his own proper person.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know that?” + </p> + <p> + “You had a message from me this afternoon?” + </p> + <p> + “I did.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you think of it?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you might have left out the first part of it; also that you + might have made the latter half a good bit more explicit.” + </p> + <p> + A slow smile spread itself over Adams' impassive face. + </p> + <p> + “Every man has his limitations,” he said. “I did the best I could. But the + Rajah knew very well what he was about—otherwise there would have + been no telegram.” + </p> + <p> + Winton sent the Chinaman out for another cup of tea before he said, “Did + Miss Carteret come here alone?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; Calvert came with her.” + </p> + <p> + “What brought them here?” + </p> + <p> + Adams spread his hands. + </p> + <p> + “What makes any woman do precisely the most unexpected thing?” + </p> + <p> + Winton was silent for a moment. Finally he said: “I hope you did what you + could to make it pleasant for her.” + </p> + <p> + “I did. And I didn't hear her complain.” + </p> + <p> + “That was low-down in you, Morty.” + </p> + <p> + Adams chuckled reminiscently. “Had to do it to make my + day-before-yesterday lie hold water. And she was immensely taken with the + scrawls, especially with one of them.” + </p> + <p> + Winton flushed under the bronze. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I don't need to ask which one.” + </p> + <p> + Adams' grin was a measure of his complacence. + </p> + <p> + “Well, hardly.” + </p> + <p> + “She took it away with her?” + </p> + <p> + “Took it, or tore it up, I forget which.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, Morty, was she very angry?” + </p> + <p> + The other took the last hint of laughter out of his eyes before he said + solemnly: “You'll never know how thankful I was that you were twenty miles + away.” + </p> + <p> + Winton's cup was full, and he turned the talk abruptly to the industrial + doings and accomplishments of the day. Adams made a verbal report which + led him by successive steps up to the twilight hour when he had stood with + Branagan on the brink of the placer drain, but, strangely enough, there + was no stirring of memory to recall the incident of the upward-climbing + miners. + </p> + <p> + When Winton rose he said something about mounting a night guard on the + engine, which was kept under steam at all hours; and shortly afterward he + left the dinkey ostensibly to do it, declining Adams' offer of company. + But once out-of-doors he climbed straight to the operator's tent on the + snow-covered slope. Carter had turned in, but he sat up in his bunk at the + noise of the intrusion. + </p> + <p> + “That you, Mr. Winton? Want to send something?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, go to sleep. I'll write a wire and leave it for you to send in the + morning.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down at the packing-case instrument table and wrote out a brief + report of the day's progress in track-laying for the general manager's + record. But when Carter's regular breathing told him he was alone he + pushed the pad aside, took down the sending-hook, and searched until he + had found the original copy of the message which had reached him at the + moment of cataclysms in the lobby of the Buckingham. + </p> + <p> + “Um,” he said, and his heart grew warm within him. “It's just about as I + expected: Morty didn't have anything whatever to do with it—except + to sign and send it as she commanded him to.” And the penciled sheet was + folded carefully and filed in permanence in the inner breast pocket of his + brown duck shooting-coat. + </p> + <p> + The moon was rising behind the eastern mountain when he extinguished the + candle and went out. Below lay the chaotic construction camp buried in + silence and in darkness save for the lighted windows of the dinkey. He was + not quite ready to go back to Adams, and after making a round of the camp + and bidding the engine watchman keep a sharp lookout against a possible + night surprise, he set out to walk over the newly-laid track of the day. + </p> + <p> + Another half-hour had elapsed, and a waning moon was clearing the topmost + crags of Pacific Peak when he came out on the high embankment opposite the + Rosemary, having traversed the entire length of the lateral loop and + inspected the trestle at the gulch head by the light of a blazing + spruce-branch. + </p> + <p> + The station with its two one-car trains, and the shacks of the little + mining-camp beyond, lay shimmering ghost-like in the new-born light of the + moon. The engine of the sheriff's car was humming softly with a note like + the distant swarming of bees, and from the dancehall in Argentine the + snort of a trombone and the tinkling clang of a cracked piano floated out + upon the frosty night air. + </p> + <p> + Winton turned to go back. The windows of the Rosemary were all dark, and + there was nothing to stay for. So he thought, at all events; but if he had + not been musing abstractedly upon things widely separated from his present + surroundings, he might have remarked two tiny stars of lantern-light high + on the placer ground above the embankment; or, failing the sight, he might + have heard the dull, measured <i>slumph</i> of a churn-drill burrowing + deep in the frozen earth of the slope. + </p> + <p> + As it was, a pair of brown eyes blinded him, and the tones of a voice + sweeter than the songs of Oberon's sea-maid filled his ears. Wherefore he + neither saw nor heard; and taking the short cut across the mouth of the + lateral gulch back to camp, he boarded the dinkey and went to bed without + disturbing Adams. + </p> + <p> + The morning of the day to come broke clear and still, with the stars + paling one by one at the pointing finger of the dawn, and the frost-rime + lying thick and white like a snowfall of erect and glittering needles on + iron and steel and wood. + </p> + <p> + Obedient to orders, the bridge-builders were getting out their hand-car at + the construction camp, the wheels shrilling merrily on the frosted rails, + and the men stamping and swinging their arms to start the sluggish + night-blood. Suddenly, like the opening gun of a battle, the dull rumble + of a mighty explosion trembled upon the still air, followed instantly by a + sound as of a passing avalanche. + </p> + <p> + Winton was out and running up the track before the camp was fairly + aroused. What he saw when he gained the hither side of the lateral gulch + was a sight to make a strong man weep. A huge landslide, starting from the + frozen placer ground high up on the western promontory, had swept every + vestige of track and embankment into the deep bed of the creek at a point + precisely opposite Mr. Somerville Darrah's private car. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. THE MAJESTY OF THE LAW + </h2> + <p> + Virginia was up and dressed when the sullen shock of the explosion set the + windows jarring in the Rosemary. + </p> + <p> + She hurried out upon the observation platform and so came to look upon the + ruin wrought by the landslide while the dust-like smoke of the dynamite + still hung in the air. + </p> + <p> + “Rather unlucky for our friends the enemy,” said a colorless voice behind + her; and she had an uncomfortable feeling that Jastrow had been lying in + wait for her. + </p> + <p> + She turned upon him quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Was it an accident, Mr. Jastrow?” + </p> + <p> + “How could it be anything else?” he inquired mildly. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. But there was an explosion: I heard it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is horribly unfair,” she went on. “I understand the sheriff is here. + Couldn't he have prevented this?” + </p> + <p> + The secretary's rejoinder was a platitude: “Everything is fair in love or + war.” + </p> + <p> + “But this is neither,” she retorted. + </p> + <p> + “Think not?” he said coolly. “Wait, and you'll see. And a word in your + ear, Miss Carteret: you are one of us, you know, and you mustn't be + disloyal. I know what you did yesterday after you read those telegrams.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia's face became suddenly wooden. Until that moment it had not + occurred to her that Jastrow's motive in showing her the two telegrams + might have been carefully calculated. + </p> + <p> + “I have never given you the right to speak to me that way, Mr. Jastrow,” + she said, with the faintest possible emphasis on the courtesy prefix; and + with that she turned from him to focus her field-glass on the construction + camp below. + </p> + <p> + At the Utah stronghold all was activity of the fiercest. Winton had raced + back with his news of the catastrophe, and the camp was alive with men + clustering like bees and swarming upon the flat-cars of the material-train + to be taken to the front. + </p> + <p> + While she looked, studiously ignoring the man behind her, Virginia saw the + big octopod engine clamoring up the grade. In a twinkling the men were off + and at work. + </p> + <p> + Virginia's color rose and the brown eyes filled swiftly. One part of her + ideal was courage of the sort that rises the higher for reverses. But at + the instant she remembered the secretary, and, lest he should spy upon her + emotion, she turned and took refuge in the car. + </p> + <p> + In the Rosemary the waiter was laying the plates for breakfast, and Bessie + and the Reverend William were at the window, watching the stirring + industry battle now in full swing on the opposite slope. Virginia joined + them. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it a shame!” she said. “Of course, I want our side to win; but it + seems such a pity that we can't fight fairly.” + </p> + <p> + Calvert said, “Isn't what a shame?” thereby eliciting a crisp explanation + from Virginia in which she set well-founded suspicion in the light of + fact. + </p> + <p> + The Reverend Billy shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Such things may be within the law—of business; but they will surely + breed bad blood—” + </p> + <p> + The interruption was the Rajah in his proper person, bustling out fiercely + to a conference with his Myrmidons. By tacit consent the three at the + window fell silent. + </p> + <p> + There was a hasty mustering of armed men under the windows of the + Rosemary, and they heard Sheriff Deckert's low-voiced instructions to his + posse. + </p> + <p> + “Take it slow and easy, boys, and don't get rattled. Now, then; guns to + the front! Steady!” + </p> + <p> + The Reverend Billy rose. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do?” said Virginia. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to give Winton a tip if it's the last thing I ever do.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head and pointed eastward to the mouth of the lateral gulch. + Under cover of a clump of evergreen-scrub a man in a wideflapped hat and + leather breeches was climbing swiftly to the level of the new line, + cautiously waving a handkerchief as a peace token. “That is the man who + arrested Mr. Winton yesterday. This time he is going to fight on the other + side. He'll carry the warning.” + </p> + <p> + “Think so?” said Calvert. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure of it. Open the window, please. I want to see better.” + </p> + <p> + As yet there was no sign of preparation on the embankment. For the moment + the rifles of the track force were laid aside, and every man was plying + pick or shovel. + </p> + <p> + Winton was in the thick of the pick-and-shovel melee, urging it on, when + Biggin ran up. + </p> + <p> + “Hi!” he shouted. “Fixin' to take another play-day in Carbonate? Lookee + down yonder!” + </p> + <p> + Winton looked and became alive to the possibilities in the turning of a + leaf. + </p> + <p> + “Guns!” he yelled; and at the word of command the tools were flung aside, + and the track force, over two hundred strong, became an army. + </p> + <p> + “Mulcahey, take half the men and go up the grade till you can rake those + fellows without hitting the car. Branagan, you take the other half and go + down till you can cross-fire with Mulcahey. Aim low, both of you; and the + man who fires before he gets the word from me will break his neck at a + rope's end. Fall in!” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” said Adams. “Are you going to resist? That spells felony, + doesn't it?” + </p> + <p> + Winton pointed to the waiting octopod. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to order the Two-fifteen down out of the way: you may go with + her if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess not!” quoth the assistant, calmly lighting a fresh cigarette. And + then to the water-boy, who was acting quartermaster: “Give me a rifle and + a cartridge-belt, Chunky, and I'll stay here with the boss.” + </p> + <p> + “And where do I come in?” said Biggin to Winton reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “You'll stay out, if your head's level. You've done enough already to send + you to Canyon City.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't a-forgettin' nothing,” said Peter cheerfully, casting himself + flat behind a heap of earth on the dump-edge. + </p> + <p> + While the sheriff's posse was picking its way gingerly over the loose rock + and earth dam formed by the landslide, the window went up in the Rosemary + and Winton saw Virginia. Without meaning to, she gave him his battle-word. + </p> + <p> + “We are a dozen Winchesters to your one, Mr. Deckert, and we shall resist + force with force. Order your men back or there will be trouble.” + </p> + <p> + Winton stood out on the edge of the cutting, a solitary figure where a few + minutes before the earth had been flying from a hundred shovels. + </p> + <p> + The sheriff's reply was an order, but not for retreat. + </p> + <p> + “He's one of the men we want; cover him!” he commanded. + </p> + <p> + Unless the public occasion appeals strongly to the sympathies or the + passions, a picked-up sheriff's posse is not likely to have very good + metal in it. Peter Biggin laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be no ways nervous,” he said in an aside to Winton. “Them + professional veniry chumps couldn't hit the side o' Pacific Peak.” + </p> + <p> + Winton held his ground, while the sheriff tried to drive his men up a bare + slope commanded by two hundred rifles to right and left. The attempt was a + humiliating failure. Being something less than soldiers trained to do or + die, the deputies hung back to a man. + </p> + <p> + Virginia could not forbear a smile. The sheriff burst into caustic + profanity. Whereupon Mr. Peter Biggin rose up and sent a bullet to plow a + little furrow in the ice within an inch of Deckert's heels. + </p> + <p> + “Ex-cuse <i>me</i>, Bart,” he drawled, “but no cuss words don't go.” + </p> + <p> + The sheriff ignored Peter Biggin as a person who could be argued with at + leisure and turned to Winton. + </p> + <p> + “Come down!” he bellowed. + </p> + <p> + Winton laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Let me return the invitation. Come up, and you may read your warrants to + us all day.” + </p> + <p> + Deckert withdrew his men, and at Winton's signal the track-layers came in + and the earth began to fly again. + </p> + <p> + Virginia sighed her relief, and Bessie plucked up courage to go to the + window, which she had deserted in the moment of impending battle. + </p> + <p> + “Breakfast is served,” announced the waiter as calmly as if the morning + meal were the only matter of consequence in a world of happenings. + </p> + <p> + They gathered about the table, a silent trio made presently a quartet by + the advent of Mrs. Carteret, who had neither seen nor heard anything of + the warlike episode with which the day had begun. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Darrah was late, so late that when he came in, Virginia was the only + one of the four who remained at table. She stayed to pour his coffee and + to bespeak peace. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Somerville, can't we win without calling in these horrid men with + their guns?” + </p> + <p> + A mere shadow of a grim smile came and went in the Rajah's eyes. + </p> + <p> + “An unprejudiced outsideh might say that the 'horrid men with their guns' + were on top of that embankment, my deah—ten to ouh one,” he + remarked. + </p> + <p> + “But I should think we might win in some other way,” Virginia persisted + undauntedly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Darrah pushed his plate aside and cleared his throat. + </p> + <p> + “For business reasons which you—ah—wouldn't undehstand, we + can't let the Utah finish this railroad of theirs into Carbonate this + winteh.” + </p> + <p> + “So much I have inferred. But Mr. Winton seems to be very determined.” + </p> + <p> + “Mmph! I wish Mr. Callowell had favehed us with some one else—any + one else. That young fellow is a bawn fighteh, my deah.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia had a bright idea, and she advanced it without examining too + closely into its ethical part. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Winton is working for wages, isn't he?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Of cou'se; big money, at that. His sawt come high.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, why can't you hire him away from the other people? Mr. Callowell + might not be so fortunate next time.” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah sat back in his chair and regarded her thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing my deah—nothing at all. I was just wondering how a woman's—ah—sense + of propo'tion was put togetheh. But your plan has merit. Do I understand + that you will faveh me with your help?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, ye-es, certainly, if I can,” she assented, not without dubiety. + “That is, I'll be nice to Mr. Winton.” + </p> + <p> + “That is precisely what I mean, my deah. We'll begin by having him heah to + dinneh this evening, him and the otheh young man—what's his name?—Adams.” + </p> + <p> + And the upshot of the matter was a dainty note which found its way by the + hands of the private-car porter to Winton, laboring manfully at his task + of repairing the landslide damages. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Somerville Darrah's compliments to Mr. John Winton and Mr. Morton P. + Adams, and he will be pleased if they will dine with the party in the car + Rosemary at seven o'clock. + </p> + <p> + “Informal. + </p> + <p> + “Wednesday, December the Ninth.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. THE GREEKS BRINGING GIFTS + </h2> + <p> + Adams said “By Jove!” in his most cynical drawl when Winton gave him the + dinner-bidding to read: then he laughed. + </p> + <p> + Winton recovered the dainty note, folding it carefully and putting it in + his pocket. The handwriting was the same as that of the telegram + abstracted from Operator Carter's sending-book. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see anything to laugh at,” he objected. + </p> + <p> + “No? First the Rajah sends the sheriff's posse packing without striking a + blow, and now he invites us to dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “You make me exceedingly tired at odd moments, Morty. Why can't you give + Mr. Darrah the credit of being what he really is at bottom—a + right-hearted Virginia gentleman of the old school?” + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean that you are going to accept!” said Adams, aghast. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; and so are you.” + </p> + <p> + There was no more to be said, and Adams held his peace while Winton + scribbled a line of acceptance on a leaf of his note-book and sent it + across to the Rosemary by the hand of the water-boy. + </p> + <p> + Their reception at the steps of the Rosemary was a generous proof of the + aptness of that aphorism which sums up the status <i>post bellum</i> in + the terse phrase, “After war, peace.” Mr. Darrah met them; was evidently + waiting for them. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, gentlemen; come in and be at home,”—this with a hand for + each. “Virginia allowed you wouldn't faveh us, but I assured her she + didn't rightly know men of the world: told her that a picayune business + affair in which we are all acting as corporation proxies needn't spell out + anything like a blood feud between gentlemen.” + </p> + <p> + For another man the informal table gathering might have been easily + prohibitive of confidences <i>a deux</i>, even with a Virginia Carteret to + help, but Winton was far above the trammelings of time and place. He had + eyes and ears only for the sweet-faced, low-voiced young woman beside him, + and some of his replies to the others were irrelevant enough to send a + smile around the board. + </p> + <p> + “How very absent-minded Mr. Winton seems to be this evening!” murmured + Bessie from her niche between Adams and the Reverend Billy at the farther + end of the table. “He isn't quite at his best, is he, Mr. Adams?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed,” said Adams, matching her undertone, “very far from it. He + has been a bit off all day: touch of mountain fever, I'm afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “But he doesn't look at all ill,” objected Miss Bessie. “I should say he + is a perfect picture of rude health.” + </p> + <p> + The coffee was served, and Mrs. Carteret was rising. Whereupon Miss + Virginia handed her cup to Adams, and so had him for her companion in the + tete-a-tete chair, leaving Winton to shift for himself. + </p> + <p> + The shifting process carried him over to the Rajah and the Reverend Billy, + to a small table in a corner of the compartment, and the enjoyment of a + mild cigar. + </p> + <p> + Later, when Calvert had been eliminated by Miss Bessie, Winton looked to + see the true inwardness of the dinner-bidding made manifest by his host. + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Darrah chatted on, affably noncommittal, and after a time Winton + began to upbraid himself for suspecting the ulterior motive. And when he + finally rose to excuse himself on a letter-writing plea, his leave-taking + was that of the genial host reluctant to part company with his guest. + </p> + <p> + “I've enjoyed your conve'sation, seh; enjoyed it right much. May I hope + you will faveh us often while we are neighbors?” + </p> + <p> + Winton rose, made the proper acknowledgments, and would have crossed the + compartment to make his adieus to Mrs. Carteret. But at that moment + Virginia came between. + </p> + <p> + “You are not going yet, are you, Mr. Winton? Don't hurry. If you are dying + to smoke a pipe, as Mr. Adams says you are, we can go out on the platform. + It isn't too cold, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “It is clear and frosty, a beautiful night,” he hastened to say. “May I + help you with your coat?” + </p> + <p> + So presently Winton had his heart's desire, which was to be alone with + Virginia. + </p> + <p> + She nerved herself for the plunge,—her uncle's plunge. + </p> + <p> + “Your part in the building of this other railroad is purely a business + affair, is it not?” + </p> + <p> + “My personal interest? Quite so; a mere matter of dollars and cents, you + may say.” + </p> + <p> + “If you should have another offer, from some other company—” + </p> + <p> + “That is not your argument; it is Mr. Darrah's. You know well enough what + is involved: honor, integrity, good faith, everything a man values, or + should value. I can't believe you would ask such a sacrifice of me—of + any man. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I do not ask it, Mr. Winton. But it is only fair that you should + have your warning. My uncle will leave no stone unturned to defeat you.” + </p> + <p> + He was still looking into her eyes, and so had courage to say what came + uppermost. + </p> + <p> + “I don't care: I shall fight him as hard as I can, but I shall always be + his debtor for this evening. Do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + In a flash her mood changed and she laughed lightly. + </p> + <p> + “Who would think it of you, Mr. Winton. Of all men I should have said you + were the last to care so much for the social diversions. Shall we go in?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. THE BLOCK SIGNAL. + </h2> + <p> + If Mr. John Winton, C. E., stood in need of a moral tonic, as Adams had so + delicately intimated to Miss Bessie Carteret, it was administered in + quantity sufficient before he slept on the night of dinner-givings. + </p> + <p> + For a clear-eyed theorist, free from all heart-trammelings and able to + grasp the unsentimental fact, the enemy's new plan of campaign wrote + itself quite legibly. With his pick and choice among the time-killing + expedients the Rajah could scarcely have found one more to his purpose + than the private car Rosemary, including in its passenger list a Miss + Virginia Carteret. + </p> + <p> + All of which Adams, substituting friendly frankness for the disciplinary + traditions of the service, set forth in good Bostonian English for the + benefit and behoof of his chief, and was answered according to his deserts + with scoffings and deridings. + </p> + <p> + “I wasn't born yesterday, Morty, and I'm not so desperately asinine as you + seem to think,” was the besotted one's summing-up. “I know the Rajah + doesn't split hairs in a business fight, but he is hardly unscrupulous + enough to use Miss Carteret as a cat's-paw.” + </p> + <p> + But Adams would not be scoffed aside so easily. + </p> + <p> + “You're off in your estimate of Mr. Darrah, Jack, 'way off. I know the + tradition: that a Southern gentleman is all chivalry when it comes to a + matter touching his womankind, and I don't controvert it as a general + proposition. But the Rajah has been a fighting Western railroad magnate so + long that his accent is about the only Southern asset he has retained. If + I'm any good at guessing, he will stick at nothing to gain his end.” + </p> + <p> + Winton admitted the impeachment without prejudice to his own point of + view. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you are right. But forewarned is forearmed. And Miss Virginia is + not going to lend herself to any such nefarious scheme.” + </p> + <p> + “Not consciously, perhaps; but you don't know her yet. If she saw a good + chance to take the conceit out of you, she'd improve it—without + thinking overmuch of the possible consequences to the Utah company.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw!” said Winton. “That is another of your literary inferences. I've + met her only twice, yet I venture to say I know her better than you do. If + she cared anything for me—which she doesn't—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, go to sleep!” said Adams, who was not minded to argue further with a + man besotted; and so the matter went by default for the time. + </p> + <p> + But in the days that followed, days in which the sun rose and set in + cloudless winter splendor and the heavy snows still held aloof, Adams' + prediction wrought itself out into sober fact. After the single appeal to + force, Mr. Darrah seemed to give up the fight. None the less, the + departure of the Rosemary was delayed, and its hospitable door was always + open to the Utah chief of construction and his assistant. + </p> + <p> + It was very deftly done, and even Adams, the clear-eyed, could not help + admiring the Rajah's skilful finesse. Of formal dinner-givings there might + easily have been an end, since the construction camp had nothing to offer + in return. But the formalities were studiously ignored, and the two young + men were put upon a footing of intimacy and encouraged to come and go as + they pleased. + </p> + <p> + Winton took his welcome broadly, as what lover would not? and within a + week was spending most of his evenings in the Rosemary—this at a + time when every waking moment of the day and night was deeply mortgaged to + the chance of success. For now that the Rajah had withdrawn his + opposition, Nature and the perversity of inanimate things had taken a + hand, and for a fortnight the work of track-laying paused fairly within + sight of the station at Argentine. + </p> + <p> + First it was a carload of steel accidentally derailed and dumped into + Quartz Creek at precisely the worst possible point in the lower canyon, a + jagged, rock-ribbed, cliff-bound gorge where each separate piece of metal + had to be hoisted out singly by a derrick erected for the purpose—a + process which effectually blocked the track for three entire days. Next it + was another landslide (unhelped by dynamite, this) just above the station, + a crawling cataract of loose, sliding shale which, painstakingly dug out + and dammed with plank bulkhead during the day, would pour down and bury + bulkhead, buttresses, and the very right of way in the night. + </p> + <p> + In his right mind—the mind of an ambitious young captain of industry + who sees defeat with dishonor staring him in the face—Winton would + have fought all the more desperately for these hindrances. But, + unfortunately, he was no longer an industry captain with an eye single to + success. He was become that anomaly despised of the working world—a + man in love. + </p> + <p> + “It's no use shutting our eyes to the fact, Jack,” said Adams one evening, + when his chief was making ready for his regular descent upon the Rosemary. + “We shall have to put night shifts at work on that shale-slide if we hope + ever to get past it with the rails.” + </p> + <p> + “Hang the shale!” was the impatient rejoinder. “I'm no galley slave.” + </p> + <p> + Adams' slow smile came and went in cynical ripplings. + </p> + <p> + “It is pretty difficult to say precisely what you are just now. But I can + prophesy what you are going to be if you don't wake up and come alive.” + </p> + <p> + Having no reply to this, Adams went back to the matter of night shifts. + </p> + <p> + “If you will authorize it, I'll put a night gang on and boss it myself. + What do you say?” + </p> + <p> + “I say you are no end of a good fellow, Morty. And that's the plain fact. + I'll do as much for you some time.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll be smashed if you will—you'll never get the chance. When I let + a pretty girl make a fool of me—” + </p> + <p> + But the door of the dinkey slammed behind the outgoing one, and the + prophet of evil was left to organize his night assault on the shale-slide, + and to command it as best he could. + </p> + <p> + So, as we say, the days, days of stubborn toil with the enthusiasm taken + out, slipped away unfruitful. Of the entire Utah force Adams alone held + himself up to the mark, and being only second in command, he was unable to + keep the bad example of the chief from working like a leaven of inertness + among the men. Branagan voiced the situation in rich brogue one evening + when Adams had exhausted his limited vocabulary of abuse on the force for + its apathy. “'Tis no use, ava, Misther Adams. If you was the boss himself + 'twould be you as would put the comether on thim too quick. But it's 'like + masther, like mon.' The b'ys all know that Misther Winton don't care a + damn; and they'll not be hurtin' thimselves wid the wurrk.” + </p> + <p> + And the Rajah? Between his times of smoking high-priced cigars with Winton + in the lounging-room of the Rosemary, he was swearing Jubilates in the + privacy of his working-den state-room, having tri-daily weather reports + wired to him by way of Carbonate and Argentine station, and busying + himself in the intervals with sending and receiving sundry mysterious + telegrams in cipher. + </p> + <p> + Thus Mr. Somerville Darrah, all going well for him until one fateful + morning when he made the mistake of congratulating his ally. Then—but + we picture the scene: Mr. Darrah late to his breakfast, being just in from + an early-morning reconnaissance of the enemy's advancings; Virginia + sitting opposite to pour his coffee. All the others vanished to some limbo + of their own. + </p> + <p> + The Rajah rubbed his hands delightedly. + </p> + <p> + “We are coming on famously, famously, my deah Virginia. Two weeks gone, + heavy snows predicted for the mountain region, and nothing, practically + nothing at all, accomplished on the otheh side of the canyon. When you + marry, my deah, you shall have a block of C. G. R. preferred stock to keep + you in pin-money.” + </p> + <p> + “I?” she queried. “But, Uncle Somerville, I don't understand—” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah laughed. + </p> + <p> + “That was a very pretty blush, my deah. Bless your innocent soul, if I + were young Misteh Winton, I'm not sure but I should consideh the game well + lost.” + </p> + <p> + She was gazing at him wide-eyed now, and the blush had left a pallor + behind it. + </p> + <p> + “You mean that I—that I—” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that you are a helpeh worth having, Miss Carteret. Anotheh time + Misteh Winton won't pay cou't to a cha'ming young girl and try to build a + railroad at one and the same moment, I fancy. Hah!” + </p> + <p> + The startled eyes veiled themselves swiftly, and Virginia's voice sank to + its softest cadence. + </p> + <p> + “Have I been an accomplice,” she began, “in this—this despicable + thing, Uncle Somerville?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Darrah began a little to see his mistake. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—an accomplice? Oh, no, my deah Virginia, not quite that. The + word smacks too much of the po-lice cou'ts. Let us say that Misteh Winton + has found your company mo' attractive than that of his laborehs, and + commend his good taste in the matteh.” + </p> + <p> + So much he said by way of damping down the fire he had so rashly lighted. + Then Jastrow came in with one of the interminable cipher telegrams and + Virginia was left alone. + </p> + <p> + For a time she sat at the deserted breakfast-table, dry-eyed, hot-hearted, + thinking such thoughts as would come crowding thickly upon the heels of + such a revelation. Winton would fail: a man with honor, good repute, his + entire career at stake, as he himself had admitted, would go down to + miserable oblivion and defeat, lacking some friendly hand to smite him + alive to a sense of his danger. And, in her uncle's estimation, at least, + she, Virginia Carteret, would figure as the Delilah triumphant. + </p> + <p> + She rose, tingling to her finger-tips with the shame of it, went to her + state-room, and found her writing materials. In such a crisis her methods + could be as direct as a man's. Winton was coming again that evening. He + must be stopped and sent about his business. + </p> + <p> + So she wrote him a note, telling him he must not come—a note + man-like in its conciseness, and yet most womanly in its failure to give + even the remotest hint of the new and binding reason why he must not come. + And just before luncheon an obliging Cousin Billy was prevailed upon to + undertake its delivery. + </p> + <p> + When he had found Winton at the shale-slide, and had given him Miss + Carteret's mandate, the Reverend Billy did not return directly to the + Rosemary. On the contrary, he extended his tramp westward, stumbling on + aimlessly up the canyon over the unsurfaced embankment of the new line. + </p> + <p> + Truth to tell, Virginia's messenger was not unwilling to spend a little + time alone with the immensities. To put it baldly, he was beginning to be + desperately cloyed with the sweets of a day-long Miss Bessie, ennuyé on + the one hand and despondent on the other. + </p> + <p> + Why could not the Cousin Bessies see, without being told in so many words, + that the heart of a man may have been given in times long past to another + woman?—to a Cousin Virginia, let us say. And why must the Cousin + Virginias, passing by the lifelong devotion of a kinsman lover, throw + themselves—if one must put it thus brutally—fairly at the head + of an acquaintance of a day? + </p> + <p> + So questioning the immensities, the Reverend Billy came out after some + little time in a small upland valley where the two lines, old and new, ran + parallel at the same level, with low embankments less than a hundred yards + apart. + </p> + <p> + Midway of the valley the hundred-yard interspace was bridged by a + hastily-constructed spur track starting from a switch on the Colorado and + Grand River main line, and crossing the Utah right of way at a broad + angle. On this spur, at its point of intersection with the new line, stood + a heavy locomotive, steam up, and manned in every inch of its + standing-room by armed guards. + </p> + <p> + The situation explained itself, even to a Reverend Billy. The Rajah had + not been idle during the interval of dinner-givings and social + divagations. He had acquired the right of way across the Utah's line for + his blockading spur; had taken advantage of Winton's inalertness to + construct the track; and was now prepared to hold the crossing with a live + engine and such a show of force as might be needful. + </p> + <p> + Calvert turned back from the entrance of the valley, and was minded, in a + spirit of fairness, to pass the word concerning the new obstruction on to + the man who was most vitally concerned. But alas! even a Reverend Billy + may not always arise superior to his hamperings as a man and a lover. Here + was defeat possible—nay, say rather defeat probable—for a + rival, with the probability increasing with each hour of delay. Calvert + fought it out by length and by breadth a dozen times before he came in + sight of the track force toiling at the shale-slide. Should he tell + Winton, and so, indirectly, help to frustrate Mr. Darrah's well-laid plan? + Or should he hold his peace and thus, indirectly again, help to defeat the + Utah company? + </p> + <p> + He put it that way in decent self-respect. Also he assured himself that + the personal equation as between two lovers of one and the same woman was + entirely eliminated. But who can tell which motive it was that prompted + him to turn aside before he came to the army of toilers at the slide: to + turn and cross the stream and make as wide a detour as the nature of the + ground would permit, passing well beyond call from the other side of the + canyon? + </p> + <p> + The detour took him past the slide in silent safety, but it did not take + him immediately back to the Rosemary. Instead of keeping on down the + canyon on the C. G. R. side, he turned up the gulch at the back of + Argentine and spent the better half of the afternoon tramping beneath the + solemn spruces on the mountain. What the hours of solitude brought him in + the way of decision let him declare as he sets his face finally toward the + station and the private car. + </p> + <p> + “I can't do it: I can't turn traitor to the kinsman whose bread I eat. And + that is what it would come to in plain English. Beyond that I have no + right to go: it is not for me to pass upon the justice of this petty war + between rival corporations.” + </p> + <p> + Ah, William Calvert! is there no word then of that other and far subtler + temptation? When you have reached your goal, if reach it you may, will + there be no remorseful looking back to this mile-stone where a word from + you might have taken the fly from your pot of precious ointment? + </p> + <p> + The short winter day was darkening to its close when he returned to the + Rosemary. By dint of judicious manoeuvering, with a too-fond Bessie for an + unconscious confederate, he managed to keep Virginia from questioning him; + this up to a certain moment of climaxes in the evening. + </p> + <p> + But Virginia read momentous things in his face and eyes, and when the time + was fully ripe she cornered him. It was the old story over again, of a + woman's determination to know pitted against a truthful man's blundering + efforts to conceal; and before he knew what he was about Calvert had + betrayed the Rajah's secret—which was also the secret of the cipher + telegrams. + </p> + <p> + Miss Carteret said little—said nothing, indeed, that an anxious + kinsman lover could lay hold of. But when the secret was hers she donned + coat and headgear and went out on the square-railed platform, whither the + Reverend Billy dared not follow her. + </p> + <p> + But another member of the Rosemary group had more courage—-or fewer + scruples. When Miss Carteret let herself out of the rear door, Jastrow + disappeared in the opposite direction, passing through the forward + vestibule and dropping cat-like from the step to inch his way silently + over the treacherous snow-crust to a convenient spying place at the other + end of the car. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately for the spying purpose, the shades were drawn behind the two + great windows and the glass door, but the starlight sufficed to show the + watcher a shadowy Miss Virginia standing motionless on the side which gave + her an outlook down the canyon, leaning out, it might be, to anticipate + the upcoming of some one from the construction camp below. + </p> + <p> + The secretary, shivering in the knife-like wind slipping down from the + bald peaks, had not long to wait. By the time his eyes were fitted to the + darkness he heard a man coming up the track, the snow crunching frostily + under his steady stride. Jastrow ducked under the platform and gained a + viewpoint on the other side of the car. The crunching footfalls had + ceased, and a man was swinging himself up to the forward step of the + Rosemary. At the instant a voice just above the spy's head called softly, + “Mr. Winton!” and the new-comer dropped back into the snow and came + tramping to the rear. + </p> + <p> + It was an awkward moment for Jastrow; but he made shift to dodge again, + and so to be out of the way when the engineer drew himself up and climbed + the hand-rail to stand beside his summoner. + </p> + <p> + The secretary saw him take her hand and heard her exclamation, half + indignant, wholly reproachful: + </p> + <p> + “You had my note: I told you not to come!” + </p> + <p> + “So you did, and yet you were expecting me,” he asserted. He was still + holding her hand, and she could not—or did not—withdraw it. + </p> + <p> + “Was I, indeed!” There was a touch of the old-time raillery in the words, + but it was gone when she added: “Oh, why will you keep on coming and + coming when you know so well what it means to you and your work?” + </p> + <p> + “I think you know the answer to that better than anyone,” he rejoined, his + voice matching hers for earnestness. “It is because I love you; because I + could not stay away if I should try. Forgive me, dear; I did not mean to + speak so soon. But you said in your note that you would be leaving + Argentine immediately—that I should not see you again: so I had to + come. Won't you give me a word, Virginia?—a waiting word, if it must + be that?” + </p> + <p> + Jastrow held his breath, hope dying within him and sullen ferocity + crouching for the spring if her answer should urge it on. But when she + spoke the secretary's anger cooled and he breathed again. + </p> + <p> + “No: a thousand times, no!” she burst out passionately; and Winton + staggered as if the suddenly-freed hand had dealt him a blow. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. SPIKED SWITCHES + </h2> + <p> + For a little time after Virginia's passionate rejection of him Winton + stood abashed and confounded. Weighed in the balance of the after-thought, + his sudden and unpremeditated declaration could plead little excuse in + encouragement. And yet she had been exceedingly kind to him. + </p> + <p> + “I have no right to expect a better answer,” he said finally, when he + could trust himself to speak. “But I am like other men: I should like to + know why.” + </p> + <p> + “You can ask that?” she retorted. “You say you have no right: what have + you done to expect a better answer?” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged. “Nothing, I suppose. But you knew that before.” + </p> + <p> + “I only know what you have shown me during the past three weeks, and it + has proved that you are what Mr. Adams said you were—though he was + only jesting.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is?” + </p> + <p> + “A <i>faineant</i>, a dilettante; a man with all the God-given ability to + do as he will and to succeed, and yet who will not take the trouble to + persevere.” + </p> + <p> + Winton smiled, a grim little smile. + </p> + <p> + “You are not quite like any other woman I have ever known—not like + any other in the world, I believe. Your sisters, most of them, would take + it as the sincerest homage that a man should neglect his work for his + love. Do you care so much for success, then?” + </p> + <p> + “For the thing itself—nothing, less than nothing. But—but one + may care a little for the man who wins or loses.” + </p> + <p> + He tried to take her hand again, tried and failed. + </p> + <p> + “Virginia!—is that my word of hope?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Will you never see the commonplace effrontery of it, Mr. Winton? Day + after day you have come here, idling away the precious hours that meant + everything to you, and now you come once again to offer me a share in what + you have lost. Is that your idea of chivalry, of true manhood?” + </p> + <p> + Again the grim smile came and went. + </p> + <p> + “An unprejudiced onlooker might say that you have made me very welcome.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Winton! Is that generous?” + </p> + <p> + “No; perhaps it is hardly just. Because I counted the cost and have paid + the price open-eyed. You may remember that I told you that first evening I + should come as often as I dared. I knew then, what I have known all along: + that it was a part of your uncle's plan to delay my work.” + </p> + <p> + “His and mine, you mean; only you are too kind—or not quite brave + enough—to say so.” + </p> + <p> + “Yours? Never! If I could believe you capable of such a thing—” + </p> + <p> + “You may believe it,” she broke in. “It was I who suggested it.” + </p> + <p> + He drew a deep breath, and she heard his teeth come together with a click. + It was enough to try the faith of the loyalest lover: it tried his sorely. + Yet he scarcely needed her low-voiced, “Don't you despise me as I deserve, + now?” to make him love her all the more. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I don't. Resentment and love can hardly find room in the same + heart at the same time, and I have said that I love you,” he rejoined + quickly. + </p> + <p> + She went silent at that, and when she spoke again the listening Jastrow + tuned his ear afresh to lose no word. + </p> + <p> + “As I have confessed, I suggested it: it was just after I had seen your + men and the sheriff's ready to fly at one another's throats. I was + miserably afraid, and I asked Uncle Somerville if he could not make terms + with you in some other way. I didn't mean—” + </p> + <p> + He made haste to help her. + </p> + <p> + “Please don't try to defend your motive to me; it is wholly unnecessary. + It is more than enough for me to know that you were anxious about my + safety.” + </p> + <p> + But she would not let him have the crumb of comfort undisputed. + </p> + <p> + “There were other lives involved besides yours. I didn't say I was + specially afraid for you, did I?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but you meant it. And I thought afterward that I should have given + you a hint in some way, though the way didn't offer at the time. There was + no danger of bloodshed. I knew—we all knew—that Deckert + wouldn't go to extremities with the small force he had.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it was only a—a—” + </p> + <p> + “A bluff,” he said, supplying the word. “If I had believed there was the + slightest possibility of a fight, I should have made my men take to the + woods rather than let you witness it.” + </p> + <p> + “You shouldn't have let me waste my sympathy,” she protested + reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry; truly, I am. And you have been wasting it in another direction + as well. To-night will see the shale-slide conquered definitely, I hope, + and three more days of good weather will send us into the Carbonate + yards.” + </p> + <p> + She broke in upon him with a little cry of impatient despair. + </p> + <p> + “That shows how unwary you have been! Tell me: is there not a little + valley just above here—an open place where your railroad and Uncle + Somerville's run side by side?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is a mile this side of the canyon head. What about it?” + </p> + <p> + “How long is it since you have been up there?” she queried. + </p> + <p> + Winton stopped to think. “I don't know—a week, possibly.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet if you had not been coming here every evening, you or Mr. Adams would + have found time to go—to watch every possible chance of + interference, wouldn't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps. That was one of the risks I took, a part of the price-paying I + spoke of. If anything had happened, I should still be unrepentant.” + </p> + <p> + “Something <i>has</i> happened. While you have been taking things for + granted, Uncle Somerville has been at work day and night. He has built a + track right across yours in that little valley, and he keeps a train of + cars or something, filled with armed men, standing there all the time!” + </p> + <p> + Winton gave a low whistle. Then he laughed mirthlessly. + </p> + <p> + “You are quite sure of this?” he asked. “There is no possibility of your + being mistaken?” + </p> + <p> + “None at all,” she replied. “And I can only defend myself by saying that I + didn't know about it until a few minutes ago. What is to be done? But + stop; you needn't tell me. I am not worthy of your confidence.” + </p> + <p> + “You are; you have just proved it. But there isn't anything to be done. + The next thing in order is the exit of one John Winton in disgrace. That + spur track and engine means a crossing fight which can be prolonged + indefinitely, with due vigilance on the part of Mr. Darrah's mercenaries. + I'm smashed, Miss Carteret, thoroughly and permanently. Ah, well, it's + only one more fool for love. Hadn't we better go in? You'll take cold + standing out here.” + </p> + <p> + She drew herself up and put her hands behind her. + </p> + <p> + “Is that the way you take it, Mr. Winton?” + </p> + <p> + The acrid laugh came again. + </p> + <p> + “Would you have me tear a passion to tatters? My ancestors were not + French.” + </p> + <p> + Trying as the moment was, she could not miss her opportunity. + </p> + <p> + “How can you tell when you don't know your grandfather's middle name?” she + said, half crying. + </p> + <p> + His laugh at this was less acrid. “Adams again? My grandfather had no + middle name. But I mustn't keep you out here in the cold talking + genealogies.” + </p> + <p> + His hand was on the door to open it for her. Like a flash she came + between, and her fingers closed over his on the door-knob. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” she said. “Have I done all this—humbled myself into the very + dust—to no purpose?” + </p> + <p> + “Not if you will give me the one priceless word I am thirsting for.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how shameless you are!” she cried. “Will nothing serve to arouse the + better part of you?” + </p> + <p> + “There is no better part of any man than his love for a woman. You have + aroused that.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Then prove it by going and building your railroad</i>, Mr. Winton. + When you have done that—” + </p> + <p> + He caught at the word as a drowning man catches at a straw. + </p> + <p> + “When I have won the fight—Virginia, let me see your eyes—when + I have won, I may come back to you?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't say anything of the kind! But I will say what I said to Mr. + Adams. I like men who <i>do</i> things. Good night.” And before he could + reply she had made him open the door for her, and he was left alone on the + square-railed platform. + </p> + <p> + In the gathering-room of the private car Virginia found an atmosphere + surcharged with electrical possibilities, felt it and inhaled it, though + there was nothing visible to indicate it. The Rajah was buried in the + depths of his particular easy-chair, puffing his cigar; Bessie had the + Reverend Billy in the tete-a-tete contrivance; and Mrs. Carteret was + reading under the Pintsch drop-light at the table. + </p> + <p> + It was the chaperon who applied the firing spark to the electrical + possibilities. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't I hear you talking to some one out on the platform, Virginia?” she + asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it was Mr. Winton. He came to make his excuses.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Somerville Darrah awoke out of his tobacco reverie with a start. + </p> + <p> + “Hah!” he said fiercely. Then, in his most courteous phrase: “Did I + undehstand you to say that Misteh Winton would not faveh us to-night, my + deah Virginia?” + </p> + <p> + “He could not. He has come upon—upon some other difficulty, I + believe,” she stammered, steering a perilous course among the rocks of + equivocation. + </p> + <p> + “Mmph!” said the Rajah, rising. “Ah—where is Jastrow?” + </p> + <p> + The obsequious one appeared, imp-like, at the mention of his name, and + received a curt order. + </p> + <p> + “Go and find Engineer McGrath and his fireman. Tell him I want the engine + instantly. Move, seh!” + </p> + <p> + Virginia retreated to her state-room. In a few minutes she heard her uncle + go out; and shortly afterward the Rosemary's engine shook itself free of + the car and rumbled away westward. At that, Virginia went back to the + others and found a book. But if waiting inactive were difficult, reading + was blankly impossible. + </p> + <p> + “Goodness!” she exclaimed impatiently at last. “How hot you people keep it + in here! Cousin Billy, won't you take a turn with me on the station + platform? I can't breathe!” + </p> + <p> + Calvert acquiesced eagerly, scenting an opportunity. But when they were + out under the frosty stars he had the good sense to walk her up and down + in the healing silence and darkness for five full minutes before he + ventured to say what was in his mind. + </p> + <p> + When he spoke it was earnestly and to the purpose, not without eloquence. + He loved her; had always loved her, he thought. Could she not, with time + and the will to try, learn to love him?—not as a cousin? + </p> + <p> + She turned quickly and put both hands on his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Cousin Billy—<i>don't</i>!” she faltered brokenly; and he, + seeing at once that he had played the housebreaker where he would fain + have been the welcome guest, took his punishment manfully, drawing her arm + in his and walking her yet other turns up and down the long platform until + his patience and the silence had wrought their perfect work. + </p> + <p> + “Does it hurt much?” she asked softly, after a long time. + </p> + <p> + “You would have to change places with me to know just how much it hurts,” + he answered. “And yet you haven't left me quite desolate, Virginia. I + still have something left—all I've ever had, I fancy.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is—” + </p> + <p> + “My love for you, you know. It isn't at all contingent upon your yes or + no; or upon possession—it never has been, I think. It has never + asked much except the right to be.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent for a moment. Then she said: “Cousin Billy, I do believe + that you are the best man that ever lived. And I am ashamed—ashamed!” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” + </p> + <p> + “If I have spoiled you, ever so little, for some truer, worthier woman.” + </p> + <p> + “You haven't,” he responded; “you mustn't take that view of it. I am + decently in love with my work—a work that not a few wise men have + agreed could best be done alone. I don't think there will be any other + woman. You see, there is only one Virginia. Shall we go in now?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded, but when they reached the Rosemary the returning engine was + rattling down upon the open siding. Virginia drew back. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to meet Uncle Somerville just now,” she confessed. “Can't we + climb up to the observation platform at the other end of the car?” + </p> + <p> + He said yes, and made the affirmative good by lifting her in his arms over + the high railing. Once safely on the car, she bade him leave her. + </p> + <p> + “Slip in quietly and they won't notice,” she said. “I'll come presently.” + </p> + <p> + Calvert obeyed, and Virginia stood alone in the darkness. Down in the Utah + construction camp lights were darting to and fro; and before long she + heard the hoarse puffs of the big octopod, betokening activities. + </p> + <p> + She was shivering a little in the chill wind sliding down from the + snow-peaks, yet she would not go in until she had made sure. In a little + time her patience was rewarded. The huge engine came storming up the grade + on the new line, pushing its three flat-cars, which were black with + clinging men. On the car nearest the locomotive, where the dazzling beam + of the headlight pricked him out for her, stood Winton, braced against the + lurchings of the train over the uneven track. + </p> + <p> + “God speed you, my—love!” she murmured softly; and when the gloom of + the upper canyon cleft had engulfed man and men and storming engine she + turned to go in. + </p> + <p> + She was groping for the door-knob in the darkness made thicker by the + glare of the passing headlight when a voice, disembodied for the moment, + said: “Wait a minute, Miss Carteret; I'd like to have a word with you.” + </p> + <p> + She drew back quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Is it you, Mr. Jastrow? Let me go in, please.” + </p> + <p> + “In one moment. I have something to say to you—something you ought + to hear.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't it be said on the other side of the door? I am cold—very + cold, Mr. Jastrow.” + </p> + <p> + It was his saving hint, but he would not take it. + </p> + <p> + “No, it must be said to you alone. We have at least one thing in common, + Miss Carteret—you and I: that is a proper appreciation of the + successful realities. I—” + </p> + <p> + She stopped him with a quick little gesture of impatience. + </p> + <p> + “Will you be good enough to stand aside and let me go in?” + </p> + <p> + The keen breath of the snow-caps was summer-warm in comparison with the + chilling iciness of her manner; but the secretary went on unmoved: + </p> + <p> + “Success is the only thing worth while in this world. Winton will fail, + but I shan't. And when I do succeed, I shall marry a woman who can wear + the purple most becomingly.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you may, I'm sure,” she answered wearily. “Yet you will excuse me + if I say that I don't understand how it concerns me, or why you should + keep me out here in the cold to tell me about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you? It concerns you very nearly. You are the woman, Miss + Carteret.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed? And if I decline the honor?” + </p> + <p> + The contingency was one for which the suitor seemed not entirely prepared. + Yet he evinced a willingness to meet the hypothesis in a spirit of perfect + candor. + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn't do that, definitely, I fancy. It would be tantamount to + driving me to extremities.” + </p> + <p> + “If you will tell me how I can do it 'definitely,' I shall be most happy + to drive you to extremities, or anywhere else out of my way,” she said + frigidly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I think not,” he rejoined. “You wouldn't want me to go and tell Mr. + Darrah how you have betrayed him to Mr. Winton. I had the singular good + fortune to overhear you conversation—yours and Mr. Winton's, you + know; and if Mr. Darrah knew, he would cut you out of his will with very + little compunction, don't you think? And, really, you mustn't throw + yourself away on that sentimental Tommy of an engineer, Miss Virginia. + He'll never be able to give you the position you're fitted for.” + </p> + <p> + Since French was a dead language to Mr. Arthur Jastrow, he never knew what + it was that Miss Carteret named him. But she left him in no doubt as to + her immediate purpose. + </p> + <p> + “If that be the case, we would better go and find my uncle at once,” she + said in her softest tone; and before he could object she had led the way + to the Rajah's working-den state-room. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Darrah was deep in one of the cipher telegrams when they entered, and + he looked up to glare fiercely at one and then the other of the intruders. + Virginia gave her persecutor no time to lodge his accusation. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Somerville, Mr. Winton was here an hour ago, as you know, and I + told him what you had done—what I had helped you do. Also, I sent + him about his business; which is to win his railroad fight if he can. Mr. + Jastrow overheard the conversation, purposely, and as he threatens to turn + informer, I am saving him the trouble. Perhaps I ought to add that he + offered to hold his peace if I would promise to marry him.” + </p> + <p> + What the unlucky Jastrow might have said in his own behalf is not to be + here set down in peaceful black and white. With the final word of + Virginia's explanation the fierce old master of men was up and clutching + for the secretary's throat, and the working complement of the Rosemary + suffered instant loss. + </p> + <p> + “You'll spy upon a membeh of my family, will you, seh!” he stormed. “Out + with you, bag and baggage, befo' I lose my tempeh and forget what is due + to this young lady you have insulted, seh, with your infamous proposals! + Faveh me instantly, while you have a leg to run with! Go!” + </p> + <p> + Jastrow disappeared; and when the door closed behind him Virginia faced + her irate clan-chief bravely. + </p> + <p> + “He was a spy, and he would have been a traitor. But I am little better. + What will you do to me?” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah's wrath evaporated quickly, and a shrewd smile, not unkindly, + wrinkled the ruddy old face. + </p> + <p> + “So it was a case of the trappeh trapped, was it, my deah? I'm sorry—right + sorry. I might have known how it would be; a youngeh man would have known. + But you have done no unpahdonable mischief: Misteh Winton would have found + out for himself in a few hours, and we are ready for him now.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear! Then he will be beaten?” + </p> + <p> + “Unquestionably. Faveh me by going to bed, my deah. Your roses will suffeh + sadly for all this excitement, I feah. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. THE RIGHT OF WAY + </h2> + <p> + It seemed to Virginia that she had but just fallen asleep when she was + rudely awakened by the jar and grind of the Rosemary's wheels on + snow-covered rails. Drawing the curtain, she found that a new day was + come, gray and misty white in the gusty swirl of a mountain snow-squall. + </p> + <p> + Without disturbing the sleeping Bessie, she dressed quickly and slipped + out to see what the early-morning change of base portended. The common + room was empty when she entered it, but before she could cross to the door + the Reverend Billy came in, stamping the snow from his feet. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” she asked eagerly. “Are we off for California?” + </p> + <p> + “No, it's some more of the war. Winton has outgeneraled us. During the + night he pushed his track up to the disputed crossing, 'rushed' the + guarded engine, and ditched it.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia felt that she ought to be decorously sorry for relationship's + sake, but the effort ended in a little paean of joy. + </p> + <p> + “But Uncle Somerville—what will he do?” + </p> + <p> + “He is with McGrath on the engine, getting himself—and us—to + the front in a hurry, as you perceive.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it too late to stop Mr. Winton now?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. From what I could overhear I gathered that the ditched + engine is still in the way; that they are trying to roll it over into the + creek. Bless me! McGrath is getting terribly reckless!”—this as a + spiteful lurch of the car flung them both across the compartment. + </p> + <p> + “Say Uncle Somerville,” she amended. “Don't charge it to Mr. McGrath. + Can't we go out on the platform?” + </p> + <p> + “It's as much as your life is worth,” he asserted, but he opened the door + for her. + </p> + <p> + The car was backing swiftly up the grade with the engine behind serving as + a “pusher.” At first the fiercely-driven snow-whirl made Virginia gasp. + Then the speed slackened and she could breathe and see. + </p> + <p> + The shrilling wheels were tracking around a curve into a scanty widening + of the canyon. To the left, on the rails of the new line, the big octopod + was heaving and grunting in the midst of an army of workmen swarming thick + upon the overturned guard engine. + </p> + <p> + “Goodness! it's like a battle!” she shuddered. As she spoke the Rosemary + stopped with a jerk and McGrath's fireman darted past to set the + spur-track switch. + </p> + <p> + The points were snow-clogged, and the fireman wrestled with the lever, + saying words. The delay was measurable in heart-beats, but it sufficed. + The big octopod coughed thrice like a mighty giant in a consumption; the + clustering workmen scattered like chaff to a ringing shout of “Stand + clear!” and the obstructing mass of iron and steel rolled, wallowing and + hissing, into the stream. + </p> + <p> + “Rails to the front! Hammermen!” yelled Winton; and the scattered force + rallied instantly. + </p> + <p> + But now the wrestling fireman had thrown the switch, and at the Rajah's + command the Rosemary shot out on the spur to be thrust with locked brakes + fairly into the breach left defenseless by the ditched engine. With a + mob-roar of wrath the infuriated track-layers made a rush for the new + obstruction. But Winton was before them. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on!” he shouted, bearing them back with outflung arms. “Hold on, + men, for God's sake! There are women in that car!” + </p> + <p> + The wrathful wave broke and eddied murmurous while a square-shouldered old + man with fierce eyes and huge white mustaches, and with an extinct cigar + between his teeth, clambered down from the Rosemary's engine to say: + </p> + <p> + “Hah! a ratheh close connection, eh, Misteh Winton? Faveh me with a match, + if you please, seh. May I assume that you won't tumble my private car into + the ditch?” + </p> + <p> + Winton was white-hot, but he found a light for the Rajah's cigar, easing + his mind only as he might with Virginia looking on. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be more considerate of the safety of the ladies than you seem to + be, Mr. Darrah,” he retorted. “You are taking long chances in this game, + sir.” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah's laugh rumbled deep in his chest. “Not so vehy much longer than + you have been taking during the past fo'tnight, my deah seh. But neveh + mind; all's fair in love or war, and we appeah to be having a little of + both now up heah in Qua'tz Creek, hah?” + </p> + <p> + Winton flushed angrily. It was no light thing to be mocked before his men, + to say nothing of Miss Carteret standing within arm's reach on the railed + platform of the Rosemary. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I shall give you back that word before we are through, Mr. + Darrah,” he snapped. Then to the eddying mob-wave: “Tools up, boys. We + camp here for breakfast. Branagan, send the Two-fifteen down for the + cook's outfit.” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah dropped his cigar butt in the snow and trod upon it. + </p> + <p> + “Possibly you will faveh us with your company to breakfast in the + Rosemary, Misteh Winton—you and Misteh Adams. No? Then I bid you a + vehy good morning, gentlemen, and hope to see you lateh.” And he swung up + to the steps of the private car. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour afterward, the snow still whirling dismally, Winton and Adams + were cowering over a handful of hissing embers, drinking their commissary + coffee and munching the camp cook's poor excuse for a breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “Jig's up pretty definitely, don't you think?” said Adams, with a glance + around at the idle track force huddling for shelter under the lee of the + flats and the octopod. + </p> + <p> + Winton shook his head and groaned. “I'm a ruined man, Morty.” + </p> + <p> + Adams found his cigarette case. + </p> + <p> + “I guess that's so,” he said quite heartlessly. Then: “Hello! what is our + friend the enemy up to now?” + </p> + <p> + McGrath's fireman was uncoupling the engine from the Rosemary, and Mr. + Somerville Darrah, complacently lighting his after breakfast cigar, came + across to the hissing ember fire. + </p> + <p> + “A word with you, gentlemen, if you will faveh me,” he began. “I am about + to run down to Argentine on my engine, and I propose leaving the ladies in + your cha'ge, Misteh Winton. Will you give me your word of honeh, seh, that + they will not be annoyed in my absence?” + </p> + <p> + Winton sprang up, losing his temper again. + </p> + <p> + “It's—well, it's blessed lucky that you know your man, Mr. Darrah!” + he exploded. “Go on about your business—which is to bring another + army of deputy-sheriffs down on us, I take it. You know well enough that + no man of mine will lay a hand on your car so long as the ladies are in + it.” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah thanked him, dismissed the matter with a Chesterfieldian wave of + his hand, climbed to his place in the cab, and the engine shrilled away + around the curve and disappeared in the snow-wreaths. + </p> + <p> + Adams rose and stretched himself. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! when it comes to cheek, pure and unadulterated, commend me to a + Virginia gentleman who has acquired the proper modicum of Western bluff,” + he laughed. Then, with a cavernous yawn dating back to the sleepless + night: “Since there is nothing immediately pressing, I believe I'll go and + call on the ladies. Won't you come along for a while?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” said Winton savagely; and the assistant lounged off by himself. + </p> + <p> + Some little time afterward Winton, glooming over his handful of spitting + embers, saw Adams and Virginia come out to stand together on the + observation platform of the Rosemary. They talked long and earnestly, and + when Winton was beginning to add the dull pang of unreasoning jealousy to + his other hurtings, Adams beckoned him. He went, not unwillingly, or + altogether willingly. + </p> + <p> + “I should think you might come and say 'Good morning' to me, Mr. Winton. + I'm not Uncle Somerville,” said Miss Carteret. + </p> + <p> + Winton said “Good morning,” not too graciously, and Adams mocked him. + </p> + <p> + “Besides being a bear with a sore head, Miss Carteret thinks you're not + much of a hustler, Jack,” he said coolly. “She knows the situation; knows + that you were stupid enough to promise not to lay hands on the car when we + could have pushed it out of the way without annoying anybody. None the + less, she thinks that you might find a way to go on building your railroad + without breaking your word to Mr. Darrah.” + </p> + <p> + Winton put his sore-heartedness far enough behind him to smile and say: + “Perhaps Miss Virginia will be good enough to tell me how.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know how,” she rejoined quickly. “And you'd only laugh at me if I + should tell you what I thought of.” + </p> + <p> + “You might try it and see,” he ventured. “I'm desperate enough to take + suggestions from anyone.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me something first: is your railroad obliged to run straight along + in the middle of this nice little ridge you've been making for it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—no; temporarily, it can run anywhere. But the problem is to get + the track laid beyond this crossing before your uncle gets back with a + trainload of armed guards.” + </p> + <p> + “Any kind of track would do, wouldn't it?—just to secure the + crossing?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; anything that would hold the weight of the octopod. We shall + have to rebuild most of the line, anyway, as soon as the frost comes out + of the ground in the spring.” + </p> + <p> + The brown eyes became far-seeing. + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking,” she said musingly. “There is no time to make another + nice little ridge. But you have piles and piles of logs over there,”—she + meant the cross-ties,—“couldn't you build a sort of cobhouse ridge + with those between your track and Uncle's, and cross behind the car? Don't + laugh, please.” + </p> + <p> + But Winton was far enough from laughing at her. Why so simple an expedient + had not suggested itself instantly he did not stop to inquire. It was + enough that the Heaven-born idea had been given. + </p> + <p> + “Down out of that, Morty!” he cried. “It's one chance in a thousand. Pass + the word to the men; I'll be with you in a second.” And when Adams was + rousing the track force with the bawling shout of “<i>Ev-erybody</i>!” + Winton looked up into the brown eyes. + </p> + <p> + “My debt to you was already very great: I owe you more now,” he said. + </p> + <p> + But she gave him his quittance in a whiplike retort. + </p> + <p> + “And you will stand here talking about it when every moment is precious? + Go!” she commanded; and he went. + </p> + <p> + So now we are to conceive the maddest activity leaping into being in full + view of the watchers at the windows of the private car. Winton's chilled + and sodden army, welcoming any battle-cry of action, flew to the work with + a will. In a twinkling the corded piles of cross-ties had melted to + reappear in cobhouse balks bridging an angle from the Utah embankment to + that of the spur track in the rear of the blockading Rosemary. In briefest + time the hammermen were spiking the rails on the rough-and-ready trestle, + and the Italians were bringing up the crossing-frogs. + </p> + <p> + But the Rajah, astute colonel of industry, had not left himself + defenseless. On the contrary, he had provided for this precise contingency + by leaving McGrath's fireman in mechanical command on the Rosemary. If + Winton should attempt to build around the private car, the fireman was to + wait till the critical moment: then he was to lessen the pressure on the + automatic air-brakes and let the car drop back down the grade just far + enough to block the new crossing. + </p> + <p> + So it came about that this mechanical lieutenant waited, laughing in his + sleeve, until he saw the Italians coming with the crossing-frogs. Then, + judging the time to be fully ripe, he ducked under the Rosemary to “bleed” + the air-brake. + </p> + <p> + Winton heard the hiss of the escaping air above all the industry clamor; + heard, and saw the car start backward. Then he had a flitting glimpse of a + man in grimy overclothes scrambling terror-frenzied from beneath the + Rosemary. The thing done had been overdone. The fireman had “bled” the + air-brake too freely, and the liberated car, gathering momentum with every + wheel-turn, surged around the circling spur track and shot out masterless + on the steeper gradient of the main line. + </p> + <p> + Now, for the occupants of a runaway car on a Rocky Mountain canyon line + there is death and naught else. Winton saw, in a phantasmagoric flash of + second sight, the meteor flight of the heavy car; saw the Reverend Billy's + ineffectual efforts to apply the hand-brakes, if by good hap he should + even guess that there were any hand-brakes; saw the car, bounding and + lurching, keeping to the rails, mayhap, for some few miles below + Argentine, where it would crash headlong into the upward climbing + Carbonate train, and all would end. + </p> + <p> + In unreasoning misery, he did the only thing that offered: ran blindly + down his own embankment, hoping nothing but that he might have one last + glimpse of Virginia clinging to the hand-rail before she should be lost to + him for ever. + </p> + <p> + But as he ran a thought white-hot from the furnace of despair fell into + his brain to set it ablaze with purpose. Beyond the litter of activities + the octopod was standing, empty of its crew. Bounding up into the cab, he + released the brake and sent the great engine flying down the track of the + new line. + </p> + <p> + In the measuring of the first mile the despair-born thought took shape and + form. If he could outpace the runaway on the parallel line, stop the + octopod and dash across to the C. G. R. track ahead of the Rosemary, there + was one chance in a million that he might fling himself upon the car in + mid flight and alight with life enough left to help Calvert with the + hand-brakes. + </p> + <p> + Now, in the most unhopeful struggle it is often the thing least hoped for + that comes to pass. At Argentine, Winton's speed was a mile a minute over + a track rougher than a corduroy wagon-road; yet the octopod held the rail + and was neck and neck with the runaway. Whisking past the station, Winton + had a glimpse of a white-mustached old man standing bareheaded on the + platform and gazing horror-stricken at the tableau; then man and station + and lurching car were left behind, and the fierce strife to gain the + needed mile of lead went on. + </p> + <p> + Three miles more of the surging, racking, nerve-killing race and Winton + had his hand's-breadth of lead and had picked his place for the + million-chanced wrestle with death. It was at the C. G. R. station of + Tierra Blanca, just below a series of sharp curves which he hoped might + check a little the arrow-like flight of the runaway. + </p> + <p> + Twenty seconds later the telegraph operator at the lonely little way + station of Tierra Blanca saw a heroic bit of man-play. The upward-bound + Carbonate train was whistling in the gorge below when out of the + snow-wreaths shrouding the new line a big engine shot down to stop with + fire grinding from the wheels, and a man dropped from the high cab to dash + across to the station platform. + </p> + <p> + At the same instant a runaway passenger car thundered out of the canyon + above. The man crouched, flung himself at it in passing, missed the + forward hand-rail, caught the rear, was snatched from his feet and trailed + through the air like the thong of a whip-lash, yet made good his hold and + clambered on. + </p> + <p> + This was all the operator saw, but when he had snapped his key and run out + he heard the shrill squeal of the brakes on the car and knew that the man + had not risked his life for nothing. + </p> + <p> + And on board the Rosemary? Winton, spent to the last breath, was lying + prone on the railed platform, where he had fallen when the last twist had + been given to the shrieking brakes. + </p> + <p> + “Run, Calvert! Run ahead and—stop—the—up-train!” he + gasped; then the light went out of the gray eyes and Virginia wept + unaffectedly and fell to dabbling his forehead with handfuls of snow. + </p> + <p> + “Help me get him in to the divan, Cousin Billy,” said Virginia, when all + was over and the Rosemary was safely coupled in ahead of the upcoming + train to be slowly pushed back to Argentine. + </p> + <p> + But Winton opened his eyes and struggled to his feet unaided. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet,” he said. “I've left my automobile on the other side of the + creek; and besides, I have a railroad to build. My respects to Mr. Darrah, + and you may tell him I'm not beaten yet.” And he swung over the railing + and dropped off to mount the octopod and to race it back to the front. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Three days afterward, to a screaming of smelter whistles and other noisy + demonstrations of mining-camp joy, the Utah Short Line laid the final rail + of its new Extension in the Carbonate yards. + </p> + <p> + The driving of the silver spike accomplished, Winton and Adams slipped out + of the congratulatory throng and made their way across the C. G. R. tracks + to a private car standing along the siding. Its railed platform, + commanding a view of the civic celebration, had its quota of onlookers—a + fierce-eyed old man with huge mustaches, an athletic young clergyman, two + Bisques, and a goddess. + </p> + <p> + “Climb up, Misteh Winton, and you, Misteh Adams; climb up and join us,” + said the fierce-eyed one heartily. “Virginia, heah, thinks we ought to + call one anotheh out, but I tell her—” + </p> + <p> + What the Rajah had told his niece is of small account to us. But what + Winton whispered in her ear when he had taken his place beside her is more + to the purpose of this history. + </p> + <p> + “I have built my railroad, as you told me to, and now I have come for my—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” she said softly. “Can't you wait?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Shameless one!” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + But when the Rajah proposed an adjournment to the gathering-room of the + car, and to luncheon therein, he surprised them standing hand-in-hand and + laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Hah, you little rebel!” he said. “Do you think you dese've that block of + stock I promised you when you should marry? Anseh me, my deah.” + </p> + <p> + She blushed and shook her head, but the brown eyes were dancing. + </p> + <p> + The Rajah opened the car door with his courtliest bow. + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, you shall have it, my deah Virginia, if only to remind an + old man of the time when he was simple enough to make a business + confederate of a cha'ming young woman. Straight on, Misteh Adams; afteh + you, Misteh Winton.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Fool For Love, by Francis Lynde + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FOOL FOR LOVE *** + +***** This file should be named 8073-h.htm or 8073-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/0/7/8073/ + +Produced by Ketaki Chhabra, Wendy Crockett, and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Fool For Love + +Author: Francis Lynde + +Release Date: May, 2005 [EBook #8073] +Posting Date: July 28, 2009 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FOOL FOR LOVE *** + + + + +Produced by Ketaki Chhabra and Wendy Crockett + + + + + +A FOOL FOR LOVE + + +By Francis Lynde + +Author of "The Grafters," "The Master of Appleby," etc. + + +CONTENTS + + I In Which We Take Passage on the Limited + II In Which an Engine is Switched + III In Which an Itinerary is Changed + IV The Crystalline Altitudes + V The Landslide + VI The Rajah Gives an Order + VII The Majesty of the Law + VIII The Greeks Bringing Gifts + IX The Block Signal + X Spiked Switches + XI The Right of Way + + + + + +I. IN WHICH WE TAKE PASSAGE ON THE LIMITED + + +It was a December morning,--the Missouri December of mild temperatures +and saturated skies,--and the Chicago and Alton's fast train, dripping +from the rush through the wet night, had steamed briskly to its +terminal track in the Union Station at Kansas City. + +Two men, one smoking a short pipe and the other snapping the ash from +a scented cigarette, stood aloof from the hurrying throngs on the +platform, looking on with the measured interest of those who are in +a melee but not of it. + +"More delay," said the cigarettist, glancing at his watch. "We are +over an hour late now. Do we get any of it back on the run to Denver?" + +The pipe-smoker shook his head. + +"Hardly, I should say. The Limited is a pretty heavy train to pick +up lost time. But it won't make any particular difference. The western +connections all wait for the Limited, and we shall reach the seat +of war to-morrow night, according to the Boston itinerary." + +Mr. Morton P. Adams flung away the unburned half of his cigarette +and masked a yawn behind his hand. + +"It's no end of a bore, Winton, and that is the plain, unlacquered +fact," he protested. "I think the governor owes me something. I +worried through the Tech because he insisted that I should have a +profession; and now I am going in for field work with you in a howling +winter wilderness because he insists on a practical demonstration. +I shall ossify out there in those mountains. It's written in the +book." + +"Humph! it's too bad about you," said the other ironically. He was +a fit figure of a man, clean-cut and vigorous, from the steadfast +outlook of the gray eyes and the firm, smooth-shaven jaw to the square +fingertips of the strong hands, and his smile was of good-natured +contempt. "As you say, it is an outrage on filial complaisance. All +the same, with the right-of-way fight in prospect, Quartz Creek Canyon +may not prove to be such a valley of dry bones as--Look out, there!" + +The shifting-engine had cut a car from the rear of the lately-arrived +Alton, and was sending it down the outbound track to a coupling with +the Transcontinental Limited. Adams stepped back and let it miss him +by a hand's-breadth, and as the car was passing, Winton read the name +on the paneling. + +"The Rosemary: somebody's twenty-ton private outfit. That cooks our +last chance of making up any lost time between this and tomorrow--" + +He broke off abruptly. On the square rear observation platform of +the private car were three ladies. One of them was small and +blue-eyed, with wavy little puffs of snowy hair peeping out under +her dainty widow's cap. Another was small and blue-eyed, with wavy +masses of flaxen hair caught up from a face which might have served +as a model for the most exquisite bisque figure that ever came out +of France. But Winton saw only the third. + +She was taller than either of her companions--tall and straight and +lithe; a charming embodiment of health and strength and beauty: +clear-skinned, brown-eyed--a very goddess fresh from the bath, in +Winton's instant summing up of her, and her crown of red-gold hair +helped out the simile. + +Now, thus far in his thirty-year pilgrimage John Winton, man and +boy, had lived the intense life of a working hermit, so far as the +social gods and goddesses were concerned. Yet he had a pang--of +disappointment or pointless jealousy, or something akin to both--when +Adams lifted his hat to this particular goddess, was rewarded by a +little cry of recognition, and stepped up to the platform to be +presented to the elder and younger Bisques. + +So, as we say, Winton turned and walked away as one left out, feeling +one moment as though he had been defrauded of a natural right, and +deriding himself the next, as a sensible man should. After a bit he +was able to laugh at the "sudden attack," as he phrased it, but later, +when he and Adams were settled for the day-long run in the Denver +sleeper, and the Limited was clanking out over the switches, he +brought the talk around with a carefully assumed air of lack-interest +to the party in the private car. + +"She is a friend of yours, then?" he said, when Adams had taken the +baited hook open-eyed. + +The Technologian modified the assumption. + +"Not quite in your sense of the word, I fancy. I met her a number +of times at the houses of mutual friends in Boston. She was studying +at the Conservatory." + +"But she isn't a Bostonian," said Winton confidently. + +"Miss Virginia?--hardly. She is a Carteret of the Carterets; +Virginia-born-bred-and-named. Stunning girl, isn't she?" + +"No," said Winton shortly, resenting the slang for no reason that +he could have set forth in words. + +Adams lighted another of the scented villainies, and his clean-shaven +face wrinkled itself in a slow smile. + +"Which means that she has winged you at sight, I suppose, as she does +most men." Then he added calmly, "It's no go." + +"What is 'no go'?" + +Adams laughed unfeelingly, and puffed away at his cigarette. + +"You remind me of the fable about the head-hiding ostrich. Didn't +I see you staring at her as if you were about to have a fit? But it +is just as I tell you: it's no go. She isn't the marrying kind. If +you knew her, she'd be nice to you till she got a good chance to flay +you alive--" + +"Break it off!" growled Winton. + +"Presently. As I was saying, she would miss the chance of marrying +the best man in the world for the sake of taking a rise out of him. +Moreover, she comes of old Cavalier stock with an English earldom +at the back of it, and she is inordinately proud of the fact; while +you--er--you've given me to understand that you are a man of the +people, haven't you?" + +Winton nodded absently. It was one of his minor fads to ignore his +lineage, which ran decently back to a Colonial governor on his +father's side, and to assert that he did not know his grandfather's +middle name--which was accounted for by the very simple fact that +the elder Winton had no middle name. + +"Well, that settles it definitely," was the Bostonian's comment. +"Miss Carteret is of the _sang azur_. The man who marries her will +have to know his grandfather's middle name--and a good bit more +besides." + +Winton's laugh was mockingly good-natured. + +"You have missed your calling by something more than a hair's-breadth, +Morty. You should have been a novelist. Give you a spike and a +cross-tie and you'd infer a whole railroad. But you pique my +curiosity. Where are these American royalties of yours going in the +Rosemary?" + +"To California. The car belongs to Mr. Somerville Darrah, who is +vice-president and manager in fact of the Colorado and Grand River +road: the 'Rajah,' they call him. He is a relative of the Carterets, +and the party is on its way to spend the winter on the Pacific coast." + +"And the little lady in the widow's cap: is she Miss Carteret's +mother?" + +"Miss Bessie Carteret's mother and Miss Virginia's aunt. She is the +chaperon of the party." + +Winton was silent while the Limited was roaring through a village +on the Kansas side of the river. When he spoke again it was not of +the Carterets; it was of the Carterets' kinsman and host. + +"I have heard somewhat of the Rajah," he said half-musingly. "In +fact, I know him, by sight. He is what the magazinists are fond of +calling an 'industry colonel,' a born leader who has fought his way +to the front. If the Quartz Creek row is anything more than a stiff +bluff on the part of the C. G. R. it will be quite as well for us +if Mr. Somerville Darrah is safely at the other side of the +continent--and well out of ordinary reach of the wires." + +Adams came to attention with a half-hearted attempt to galvanize an +interest in the business affair. + +"Tell me more about this mysterious jangle we are heading for," he +rejoined. "Have I enlisted for a soldier when I thought I was only +going into peaceful exile as assistant engineer of construction on +the Utah Short Line?" + +"That remains to be seen." Winton took a leaf from his pocket +memorandum and drew a rough outline map. "Here is Denver, and here +is Carbonate," he explained. "At present the Utah is running into +Carbonate this way over the rails of the C. G. R. on a joint track +agreement which either line may terminate by giving six months' +notice of its intention to the other. Got that?" + +"To have and to hold," said Adams. "Go on." + +"Well, on the first day of September the C. G. R. people gave the +Utah management notice to quit." + +"They are bloated monopolists," said Adams sententiously. "Still I +don't see why there should be any scrapping over the line in Quartz +Creek Canyon." + +"No? You are not up in monopolistic methods. In six months from +September first the Utah people will be shut out of Carbonate +business, which is all that keeps that part of their line alive. +If they want a share of that traffic after March first, they will +have to have a road of their own to carry it over." + +"Precisely," said Adams, stifling a yawn. "They are building one, +aren't they?" + +"Trying to," Winton amended. "But, unfortunately, the only practicable +route through the mountains is up Quartz Creek Canyon, and the canyon +is already occupied by a branch line of the Colorado and Grand River." + +"Still I don't see why there should be any scrap." + +"Don't you? If the Rajah's road can keep the new line out of Carbonate +till the six months have expired, it will have a monopoly of all the +carrying trade of the camp. By consequence it can force every shipper +in the district to make iron-clad contracts, so that when the Utah +line is finally completed it won't be able to secure any freight for +a year, at least." + +"Oho! that's the game, is it? I begin to savvy the burro: that's the +proper phrase, isn't it? And what are our chances?" + +"We have about one in a hundred, as near as I could make out from +Mr. Callowell's statement of the case. The C. G. R. people are moving +heaven and earth to obstruct us in the canyon. If they can delay the +work a little longer, the weather will do the rest. With the first +heavy snow in the mountains, which usually comes long before this, +the Utah will have to put up its tools and wait till next summer." + +Adams lighted another cigarette. + +"Pardon me if I seem inquisitive," he said, "but for the life of me +I can't understand what these obstructionists can do. Of course, they +can't use force." + +Winton's smile was grim. "Can't they? Wait till you get on the ground. +But the first move was peaceable enough. They got an injunction from +the courts restraining the new line from encroaching on their right +of way." + +"Which was a thing that nobody wanted to do," said Adams, between +inhalations. + +"Which was a thing the Utah _had_ to do," corrected Winton. "The +canyon is a narrow gorge--a mere slit in parts of it. That is where +they have us." + +"Oh, well," returned Adams, "I suppose we took an appeal and asked +to have the injunction set aside?" + +"We did, promptly; and that is the present status of the fight. The +appeal decision has not yet been handed down; and in the meantime +we go on building railroad, incurring all the penalties for contempt +of court with every shovelful of earth moved. Do you still think you +will be in danger of ossifying?" + +Adams let the question rest while he asked one of his own. + +"How do you come to be mixed up in it, Jack? A week ago some one +told me you were going to South America to build a railroad in the +Andes. What switched you?" + +Winton shook his head. "Fate, I guess; that and a wire from President +Callowell of the Utah offering me this. Chief of Construction Evarts, +in charge of the work in Quartz Creek Canyon, said what you said a +few minutes ago--that he had not hired out for a soldier. He resigned, +and I'm taking his berth." + +Adams rose and buttoned his coat. + +"By all of which it seems that we two are in for a good bit more +than the ossifying exile," he remarked. And then: "I am going back +into the Rosemary to pay my respects to Miss Virginia Carteret. Won't +you come along?" + +"No," said Winton, more shortly than the invitation warranted; and +the other went his way alone. + + + + +II. IN WHICH AN ENGINE IS SWITCHED + + +"'Scuse me, sah; private cyah, sah." + +It was the porter's challenge in the vestibule of the Rosemary. Adams +found a card. + +"Take that to Miss Carteret--Miss Virginia Carteret," he directed, and +waited till the man came back with his welcome. + +The extension table in the open rear third of the private car was +closed to its smallest dimensions, and the movable furnishings were +disposed about the compartment to make it a comfortable lounging room. + +Mrs. Carteret was propped among the cushions of a divan with a book. +Her daughter occupied the undivided half of a tete-a-tete chair with +a blond athlete in a clerical coat and a reversed collar. Miss +Virginia was sitting alone at a window, but she rose and came to greet +the visitor. + +"How good of you to take pity on us!" she said, giving him her hand. +Then she put him at one with the others: "Aunt Martha you have met; +also Cousin Bessie. Let me present you to Mr. Calvert: Cousin Billy, +this is Mr. Adams, who is responsible in a way for many of my +Boston-learned gaucheries." + +Aunt Martha closed the book on her finger. "My dear Virginia!" she +protested in mild deprecation; and Adams laughed and shook hands with +the Reverend William Calvert and made Virginia's peace all in the same +breath. + +"Don't apologize for Miss Virginia, Mrs. Carteret. We were very good +friends in Boston, chiefly, I think, because I never objected when she +wanted to--er--to take a rise out of me." Then to Virginia: "I hope I +don't intrude?" + +"Not in the least. Didn't I just say you were good to come? Uncle +Somerville tells us we are passing through the famous Golden +Belt,--whatever that may be,--and recommends an easy-chair and a +window. But I haven't seen anything but stubble-fields--dismally wet +stubble-fields at that. Won't you sit down and help me watch them go +by?" + +Adams placed a chair for her and found one for himself. + +"'Uncle Somerville'--am I to have the pleasure of meeting Mr. +Somerville Darrah?" + +Miss Virginia's laugh was non-committal. + +"_Quien sabe_?" she queried, airing her one Westernism before she was +fairly in the longitude of it. "Uncle Somerville is a law unto +himself. He had a lot of telegrams and things at Kansas City, and he +is locked in his den with Mr. Jastrow, dictating answers by the +dozen, I suppose." + +"Oh, these industry colonels!" said Adams. "Don't their toilings make +you ache in sheer sympathy sometimes?" + +"No, indeed," was the prompt rejoinder; "I envy them. It must be fine +to have large things to do, and to be able to do them." + +"Degenerate scion of a noble race!" jested Adams. "What ancient +Carteret of them all would have compromised with the necessities by +becoming a captain of industry?" + +"It wasn't their _metier_, or the _metier_ of their times," said Miss +Virginia with conviction. "They were sword-soldiers merely because +that was the only way a strong man could conquer in those days. Now it +is different, and a strong man fights quite as nobly in another +field--and deserves quite as much honor." + +"Think so? I don't agree with you--as to the fighting, I mean. I like +to take things easy. A good club, a choice of decent theaters, the +society of a few charming young women like--" + +She broke him with a mocking laugh. + +"You were born a good many centuries too late, Mr. Adams; you would +have fitted so beautifully, into decadent Rome." + +"No--thanks. Twentieth-century America, with the commercial frenzy +taken out of it, is good enough for me. I was telling Winton a little +while ago--" + +"Your friend of the Kansas City station platform?" she interrupted. +"Mightn't you introduce us a little less informally?" + +"Beg pardon, I'm sure--yours and Jack's: Mr. John Winton, of New York +and the world at large, familiarly known to his intimates--and they +are precious few--as 'Jack W.' As I was about to say--" + +But she seemed to find a malicious satisfaction in breaking in upon +him. + +"'Mr. John Winton': it's a pretty name as names go, but it isn't as +strong as he is. He is an 'industry colonel,' isn't he? He looks it." + +The Bostonian avenged himself at Winton's expense for the unwelcome +interruption. + +"So much for your woman's intuition," he laughed. "Speaking of idlers, +there is your man to the dotting of the 'i'; a dilettante raised to +the _nth_ power." + +Miss Carteret's short upper lip curled in undisguised scorn. + +"I like men who do things," she asserted with pointed emphasis; +whereupon the talk drifted eastward to Boston, and Winton was ignored +until Virginia, having exhausted the reminiscent vein, said, "You are +going on through to Denver?" + +"To Denver and beyond," was the reply. "Winton has a notion of +hibernating in the mountains--fancy it; in the dead of winter!--and he +has persuaded me to go along. He sketches a little, you know." + +"Oh, so he is an artist?" said Virginia, with interest newly aroused. + +"No," said Adams gloomily, "he isn't an artist--isn't much of +anything, I'm sorry to say. Worse than all, he doesn't know his +grandfather's middle name. Told me so himself." + +"That is inexcusable--in a dilettante," said Miss Virginia mockingly. +"Don't you think so?" + +"It is inexcusable in anyone," said the Technologian, rising to take +his leave. Then, as a parting word: "Does the Rosemary set its own +table? or do you dine in the dining-car?" + +"In the dining-car, if we have one. Uncle Somerville lets us dodge the +Rosemary's cook whenever we can," was the answer; and with this bit of +information Adams went his way to the Denver sleeper. + +Finding Winton in his section, poring over a blue-print map and making +notes thereon after the manner of a man hard at work, Adams turned +back to the smoking-compartment. + +Now for Mr. Morton P. Adams the salt of life was a joke, harmless or +otherwise, as the tree might fall. So, during the long afternoon which +he wore out in solitude, there grew up in him a keen desire to see +what would befall if these two whom he had so grotesquely +misrepresented each to the other should come together in the pathway +of acquaintanceship. + +But how to bring them together was a problem which refused to be +solved until chance pointed the way. Since the Limited had lost +another hour during the day there was a rush for the dining-car as +soon as the announcement of its taking-on had gone through the train. +Adams and Winton were of this rush, and so were the members of Mr. +Somerville Darrah's party. In the seating the party was separated, as +room at the crowded tables could be found; and Miss Virginia's fate +gave her the unoccupied seat at one of the duet tables, opposite a +young man with steadfast gray eyes and a firm jaw. + +Winton was equal to the emergency, or thought he was. Adams was still +within call and he beckoned him, meaning to propose an exchange of +seats. But the Bostonian misunderstood wilfully. + +"Most happy, I'm sure," he said, coming instantly to the rescue. "Miss +Carteret, my friend signals his dilemma. May I present him?" + +Virginia smiled and gave the required permission in a word. But for +Winton self-possession fled shrieking. + +"Ah--er--I hope you know Mr. Adams well enough to make allowances for +his--for his--" He broke down helplessly and she had to come to his +assistance. + +"For his imagination?" she suggested. "I do, indeed; we are quite old +friends." + +Here was "well enough," but Winton was a man and could not let it +alone. + +"I should be very sorry to have you think for a moment that I +would--er--so far forget myself," he went on fatuously. "What I had +in mind was an exchange of seats with him. I thought it would be +pleasanter for you; that is, I mean, pleasanter for--" He stopped +short, seeing nothing but a more hopeless involvement ahead; also +because he saw signals of distress or of mirth flying in the brown +eyes. + +"Oh, please!" she protested in mock humility. "Do leave my vanity just +the tiniest little cranny to creep out of, Mr. Winton. I'll promise to +be good and not bore you too desperately." + +At this, as you would imagine, the pit of utter self-abasement yawned +for Winton, and he plunged headlong, holding the bill of fare wrong +side up when the waiter asked for his dinner order, and otherwise +demeaning himself like a man taken at a hopeless disadvantage. She +took pity on him. + +"But let's ignore Mr. Adams," she went on sweetly. "I am much more +interested in this," touching the bill of fare. "Will you order for +me, please? I like--" + +When she had finished the list of her likings, Winton was able to +smile at his lapse into the primitive, and gave the dinner order for +two with a fair degree of coherence. After that they got on better. +Winton knew Boston, and, next to the weather, Boston was the safest +and most fruitful of the commonplaces. Nevertheless, it was not +immortal; and Winton was just beginning to cast about for some other +safe riding road for the shallop of small talk when Miss Carteret sent +it adrift with malice aforethought. + +It was somewhere between the entrees and the fruit, and the point of +departure was Boston art. + +"Speaking of art, Mr. Winton, will you tell me how you came to think +of sketching in the mountains of Colorado at this time of year? I +should think the cold would be positively prohibitive of anything like +that." + +Winton stared--open-mouthed, it is to be feared. + +"I--I beg your pardon," he stammered, with the inflection which takes +its pitch from blank bewilderment. + +Miss Virginia was happy. Dilettante he might be, and an unhumbled man +of the world as well; but, to use the Reverend Billy's phrase, she +could make him "sit up." + +"I beg yours, I'm sure," she said demurely. "I didn't know it was a +craft secret." + +Winton looked across the aisle to the table where the Technologian was +sitting opposite a square-shouldered, ruddy-faced gentleman with fiery +eyes and fierce white mustaches, and shook a figurative fist. + +"I'd like to know what Adams has been telling you," he said. +"Sketching in the mountains in midwinter! that would be decidedly +original, to say the least of it. And I think I have never done an +original thing in all my life." + +For a single instant the brown eyes looked their pity for him; generic +pity it was, of the kind that mounting souls bestow upon the stagnant. +But the subconscious lover in Winton made it personal to him, and it +was the lover who spoke when he went on. + +"That is a damaging admission, is it not? I am sorry to have to make +it--to have to confirm your poor opinion of me." + +"Did I say anything like that?" she protested. + +"Not in words; but your eyes said it, and I know you have been +thinking it all along. Don't ask me how I know it: I couldn't explain +it if I should try. But you have been pitying me, in a way--you know +you have." + +The brown eyes were downcast. Frank and free-hearted after her kind as +she was, Virginia Carteret was finding it a new and singular +experience to have a man tell her baldly at their first meeting that +he had read her inmost thought of him. Yet she would not flinch or go +back. + +"There is so much to be done in the world, and so few to do the work," +she pleaded in extenuation. + +"And Adams has told you that I am not one of the few? It is true +enough to hurt." + +She looked him fairly in the eyes. "What is lacking, Mr. Winton--the +spur?" + +"Possibly," he rejoined. "There is no one near enough to care, or to +say 'Well done!'" + +"How can you tell?" she questioned musingly. "It is not always +permitted to us to hear the plaudits or the hisses--happily, I think. +Yet there are always those standing by who are ready to cry '_Io +triumphe_!' and mean it, when one approves himself a good soldier." + +The coffee had been served, and Winton sat thoughtfully stirring the +lump of sugar in his cup. Miss Carteret was not having a monopoly of +the new experiences. For instance, it had never before happened to +John Winton to have a woman, young, charming, and altogether lovable, +read him a lesson out of the book of the overcomers. + +He smiled inwardly and wondered what she would say if she could know +to what battlefield the drumming wheels of the Limited were speeding +him. Would she be loyal to her mentorship and tell him he must win, at +whatever the cost to Mr. Somerville Darrah and his business +associates? Or would she, womanlike, be her uncle's partizan and write +one John Winton down in her blackest book for daring to oppose the +Rajah? + +He assured himself it would make no jot of difference if he knew. He +had a thing to do, and he was purposed to do it strenuously, +inflexibly. Yet in the inmost chamber of his heart, where the +barbarian ego stands unabashed and isolate and recklessly contemptuous +of the moralities minor and major, he saw the birth of an influence +which inevitably must henceforth be desperately reckoned with. + +Given a name, this new-born life-factor was love; love barely +awakened, and as yet no more than a masterful desire to stand well in +the eyes of one woman. None the less, he saw the possibilities: that a +time might come when this woman would have the power to intervene; +would make him hold his hand in the business affair at the very +moment, mayhap, when he should strike the hardest. + +It was a rather unnerving thought, and when he considered it he was +glad that their ways, coinciding for the moment, would presently go +apart, leaving him free to do battle as an honest soldier in any cause +must. + +The Rosemary party was rising, and Winton rose, too, folding the seat +for Miss Virginia and carefully reaching her wrap from the rack. + +"I am so glad to have met you," she said, giving him the tips of her +fingers and going back to the conventionalities as if they had never +been ignored. + +But the sincerity in Winton's reply transcended the conventional form +of it. + +"Indeed, the pleasure has been wholly mine, I assure you. I hope the +future will be kind to me and let me see more of you." + +"Who knows?" she rejoined, smiling at him level-eyed. "The world has +been steadily growing smaller since Shakespeare called it 'narrow.'" + +He caught quickly at the straw of hope. "Then we need not say +good-by?" + +"No; let it be _auf Wiedersehen_," she said; and he stood aside to +allow her to join her party. + +Two hours later, when Adams was reading in his section and Winton was +smoking his short pipe in the men's compartment and thinking things +unspeakable with Virginia Carteret for a nucleus, there was a series +of sharp whistle-shrieks, a sudden grinding of the brakes, and a +jarring stop of the Limited--a stop not down on the time-card. + +Winton was among the first to reach the head of the long train. The +halt was in a little depression of the bleak plain, and the train-men +were in conference over a badly-derailed engine when Winton came up. +A vast herd of cattle was lumbering away into the darkness, and a +mangled carcass under the wheels of the locomotive sufficiently +explained the accident. + +"Well, there's only the one thing to do," was the engineer's verdict. +"That's for somebody to mog back to Arroyo to wire for the +wreck-wagon." + +"Yes, by gum! and that means all night," growled the conductor. + +There was a stir in the gathering throng of half-alarmed and +all-curious passengers, and a red-faced, white-mustached gentleman, +whose soft southern accent was utterly at variance with his manner, +hurled a question bolt-like at the conductor. + +"All night, you say, seh? Then we miss ouh Denver connections?" + +"You can bet to win on that," was the curt reply. + +"Damn!" said the ruddy-faced gentleman; and then in a lower tone: "I +beg your pahdon, my deah Virginia; I was totally unaware of your +presence." + +Winton threw off his overcoat. + +"If you will take a bit of help from an outsider, I think we needn't +wait for the wrecking-car," he said to the dubious trainmen. "It's +bad, but not so bad as it looks. What do you say?" + +Now, as everyone knows, it is not in the nature of operative railway +men to brook interference even of the helpful sort. But they are as +quick as other folk to recognize the man in essence, as well as to +know the clan slogan when they hear it. Winton did not wait for +objections, but took over the command as one in authority. + +"Think we can't do it? I'll show you. Up on the tank, one of you, and +heave down the jacks and frogs. We'll have her on the steel again +before you can say your prayers." + +At the hearty command, churlish reluctance vanished and everybody lent +a willing hand. In two minutes the crew of the Limited knew it was +working under a master. The frogs were adjusted under the derailed +wheels, the jack-screws were braced to lift and push with the nicest +accuracy, and all was ready for the attempt to back the engine in +trial. But now the engineer shook his bead. + +"I ain't the artist to move her gently enough with all that string o' +dinkeys behind her," he said unhopefully. + +"No?" said Winton. "Come up into the cab with and I'll show you how." +And he climbed to the driver's footboard with the doubting engineer at +his heels. + +The reversing-lever went over with a clash; the air whistled into the +brakes; and Winton began to ease the throttle open. The steam sang +into the cylinders, the huge machine trembling like a living thing +under the hand of a master. + +Slowly and by almost imperceptible degrees the life of the pent-up +boiler power crept into the pistons and out through the connecting +rods to the wheels. With the first thrill of the gripping tires Winton +leaned from the window to watch the derailed trucks climb by +half-inches up the inclined planes of the frogs. + +At the critical instant, when the entire weight of the forward half of +the engine was poising for the drop upon the rails, he gave the +precise added impulse. The big ten-wheeler coughed hoarsely and spat +fire; the driving-wheels made a quick half-turn backward; and a cheer +from the onlookers marked the little triumph of mind over matter. + +Winton found Miss Carteret holding his overcoat when he swung down +from the cab, and he fancied her enthusiasm was tempered with +something remotely like embarrassment. But she suffered him to walk +back to the private car beside her; and in this sudden retreat from +the scene of action he missed hearing the comments of his fellow +craftsmen. + +"You bet, he's no 'prentice," said the fireman. + +"Not much!" quoth the engineer. "He's an all-round artist, that's +about what he is. Shouldn't wonder if he was the travelin' engineer +for some road back in God's country." + +"Travelin' nothing!" said the conductor. "More likely he's a +train-master, 'r p'raps a bigger boss than that. Call in the flag, +Jim, and we'll be getting a move." + +Oddly enough, the comment on Winton did not pause with the encomiums +of the train crew. When the Limited was once more rushing on its way +through the night, and Virginia and her cousin were safe in the +privacy of their state-room, Miss Carteret added her word. + +"Do you know, Bessie, I think it was Mr. Adams who scored this +afternoon?" she said. + +"How so?" inquired _la petite_ Bisque, who was too sleepy to be +over-curious. + +"I think he 'took a rise' out of me, as he puts it. Mr. Winton is +precisely all the kinds of man Mr. Adams said he wasn't." + + + + +III. IN WHICH AN ITINERARY IS CHANGED + + +It was late breakfast time when the Transcontinental Limited swept +around the great curve in the eastern fringe of Denver, paused for a +registering moment at "yard limits," and went clattering in over the +switches to come to rest at the end of its long westward run on the +in-track at the Union Depot. + +Having wired ahead to have his mail meet him at the yard limits +registering station, Winton was ready to make a dash for the telegraph +office the moment the train stopped. + +"That is our wagon, over there on the narrow-gage," he said to Adams, +pointing out the waiting mountain train. "Have the porter transfer our +dunnage, and I'll be with you as soon as I can send a wire or two." + +On the way across the broad platform he saw the yard crew cutting out +the Rosemary, and had a glimpse of Miss Virginia clinging to the +hand-rail and enjoying enthusiastically, he fancied, her first view of +the mighty hills to the westward. + +The temptation to let the telegraphing wait while he went to say good +morning to her was strong, but he resisted it and hastened the more +for the hesitant thought. Nevertheless, when he reached the telegraph +office he found Mr. Somerville Darrah and his secretary there ahead of +him, and he observed that the explosive gentleman who presided over +the destinies of the Colorado and Grand River appeared to be in a more +than usually volcanic frame of mind. + +Now Winton, though new to the business of building railroads for the +Utah Short Line, was not new to Denver or Colorado. Hence when the +Rajah, followed by his secretarial shadow, had left the office, Winton +spoke to the operator as to a friend. + +"What is the matter with Mr. Darrah, Tom? He seems to be uncommonly +vindictive this morning." + +The man of dots and dashes nodded. + +"He's always crankier this time than he was the other. He's a holy +terror, the Rajah is. I wouldn't work on his road for a farm down +East--not if my job took me within cussing distance of him. Bet a hen +worth fifty dollars he is up in Mr. Colbert's office right now, +raising particular sand because his special engine wasn't standing +here ready to snatch his private car on the fly, so's to go on without +losing headway." + +Winton frowned thoughtfully, and he let his writing hand pause while +he said, "So he travels special from Denver, does he?" + +"On his own road?--well, I should smile. Nothing is too good for the +Rajah; or too quick, when he happens to be in a hurry. I wonder he +didn't have the T. C. pull him special from Kansas City." + +Winton handed in his batch of telegrams and went his way reflective. + +What was Mr. Somerville Darrah's particular rush? As set forth by +Adams, the plans of the party in the Rosemary contemplated nothing +more hasty than a leisurely trip to the Pacific coast--a pleasure +jaunt with a winter sojourn in California to lengthen it. Why, then, +this sudden change from Limited regular trains to unlimited specials? +Was there fresh news from the seat of war in Quartz Creek Canyon? +Winton thought not. In that case he would have had his budget as well; +and so far as his own advices went, matters were still as they had +been. A letter from the Utah attorneys in Carbonate assured him that +the injunction appeal was not yet decided, and another from Chief of +Construction Evarts concerned itself mainly with the major's desire to +know when he was to be relieved. + +But if Winton could have been an eavesdropper behind the door of +Superintendent Colbert's office on the second floor of the Union +Depot, his doubts would have been resolved instantly. + +The telegraph operator's guess went straight to the mark. Mr. Darrah +was "raising particular sand" because his wire order for a special +engine had not been obeyed to the saving of the ultimate second of +time. But between his objurgations on that score, he was rasping out +questions designed to exhaust the chief clerk's store of information +concerning the status of affairs at the seat of war. + +"Will you inform me, seh, why I wasn't wired that this beggahly appeal +was going against us?" he demanded wrathfully. "What's that you say, +seh? Don't tell me you couldn't know what the decision of the cou't +was going to be before it was handed down: that's what you-all are +heah for--to find out these things! And what is all this about Majah +Eva'ts resigning, and the Utah's sending East for a professional +right-of-way fighteh to take his place? Who is this new man? Don't +know? Dammit, seh! it's your business to know! _Now when do you faveh +me with my engine_?" + +Thus the Rajah; and the chief clerk, himself known from end to end of +the Colorado and Grand River as a queller of men, could only point out +of the window to where the Rosemary stood engined and equipped for the +race, and say meekly: "I'm awfully sorry you've been delayed, Mr. +Darrah; very sorry, indeed. But your car is ready now. Shall I go +along to be on hand if you need me?" + +"No, seh!" stormed the irate master; and the chief clerk's face became +instantly expressive of the keenest relief. "You stay right heah and +see that the wires to Qua'tz Creek are kept open--wide open, seh. And +when you get an ordeh from me--for an engine, a regiment of the +National Gyua'd, or a train-load of white elephants--you fill it. Do +you understand, seh?" + +Meantime, while this scene was getting itself enacted in the +superintendent's office, a mild fire of consternation was alight in +the gathering room of the Rosemary. As we have guessed, Winton's +packet of mail was not the only one which was delivered by special +arrangement that morning to the incoming Limited at the yard +registering station. There had been another, addressed to Mr. +Somerville Darrah; and when he had opened it there had been a volcanic +explosion and a hurried dash for the telegraph office, as recorded. + +Sifted out by the Reverend Billy, and explained by him to Mrs. +Carteret and Bessie, the firing spark of the explosion appeared to be +some news of an untoward character from a place vaguely designated as +"the front." + +"It seems that there is some sort of a right-of-way scrimmage going on +up in the mountains between our road and the Utah Short Line," said +the young man. "It was carried into the courts, and now it turns out +that the decision has gone against us." + +"How perfectly horrid!" said Miss Bessie. "Now I suppose we shall have +to stay here indefinitely while Uncle Somerville does things." And +placid Mrs. Carteret added plaintively: "It's too bad! I think they +might let him have one little vacation in peace." + +"Who talks of peace?" queried Virginia, driven in from her post of +vantage on the observation platform by the smoke from the +switching-engine. "Didn't I see Uncle Somerville charging across to +the telegraph office with war written out large in every line of him?" + +"I am afraid you did," affirmed the Reverend Billy; and thereupon the +explanation was rehearsed for Virginia's benefit. + +The brown eyes flashed militant sympathy. + +"Oh, I wish Uncle Somerville would go to 'the front,' wherever that +is, and take us along!" she cried. "It would be ever so much better +than California." + +The Reverend William laughed; and Aunt Martha put in her word of +expostulation, as in duty bound. + +"Why, my dear Virginia--the idea! You don't know in the least what you +are talking about. I have been reading in the papers about these +right-of-way troubles, and they are perfectly terrible. One report +said they were arming the laboring men, and another said the militia +might have to be called out." + +"Well, what of it?" said Virginia, with all the hardihood of youth and +unknowledge. "It's something like a burning building: one doesn't want +to be hard-hearted and rejoice over other people's misfortunes; but +then, if it has to burn, one would like to be there to see." + +Miss Bessie put a stray lock of the flaxen hair up under its proper +comb. + +"I'm sure I prefer California and the orange-groves and peace," she +asserted. "Don't you, Cousin Billy?" + +What Mr. Calvert would have replied is no matter for this history, +since at this precise moment the Rajah came in, "coruscating," as +Virginia put it, from his late encounter with the superintendent's +chief clerk. + +"Give them the word to go, Jastrow, and let's get out of heah," he +commanded. And when the secretary had vanished the Rajah made his +explanations to all and sundry. "I've been obliged in a manneh to +change ouh itinerary. Anotheh company is trying to fault us up in +Qua'tz Creek Canyon, and I am in a meashuh compelled to be on the +ground. We shall be delayed only a few days, I hope; at the worst only +until the first snow-storm comes; and, in the meantime, Califo'nia +won't run away." + +Virginia clapped her hands. + +"Then we are really to go to 'the front' and see a right-of-way fight? +Oh, won't that be perfectly intoxicating!" + +The Rajah glared at her as if she had said something incendiary. The +picturesque aspect of the struggle had evidently not appealed to him. +But he smiled grimly when he said: "Now there spoke the blood of the +fighting Carterets: hope you won't change your mind, my deah." And +with that he dived into his working den, pushing the lately-returned +secretary in ahead of him. + +Virginia linked arms with Bessie, the flaxen-haired, when the wheels +began to turn. + +"We are off," she said. "Let's go out on the platform and see the last +of Denver." + +It was while they were clinging to the hand-rail, and looking back +upon the jumble of railway activities out of which they had just +emerged that the Rosemary, gaining headway, overtook another moving +train running smoothly on a track parallel to that upon which the +private car was speeding. It was the narrow-gage mountain connection +of the Utah line, and Winton and Adams were on the rear platform of +the last car. So it chanced that the four of them were presently +waving their adieus across the wind-blown interspace. In the midst of +it, or rather at the moment when the Rosemary, gathering speed as the +lighter of the two trains, forged ahead, the Rajah came out to light +his cigar. + +He took in the little tableau of the rear platforms at a glance, and +when the slower train was left behind asked a question of Virginia. + +"Ah--wasn't one of those two the young gentleman who called on you +yestehday afternoon, my deah?" + +Virginia admitted it. + +"Could you faveh me with his name?" + +"He is Mr. Morton P. Adams, of Boston." + +"Ah-h! and his friend--the young gentleman who laid his hand to ouh +plow and put the engine on the track last night?" + +"He is Mr. Winton--a--an artist, I believe; at least, that is what I +gathered from what Mr. Adams said of him." + +Mr. Somerville Darrah laughed, a slow little laugh, deep in his chest. + +"Bless youh innocent soul--he a picchuh--painteh? Not in a thousand +yeahs, my deah Virginia. He is a railroad man, and a right good one at +that. Faveh me with the name again; Winteh, did you say?" + +"No; Winton--Mr. John Winton." + +"D-d-devil!" gritted the Rajah, smiting the hand-rail with his +clenched fist. "Hah! I beg your pahdon, my deahs--a meah slip of the +tongue." And then, to the full as savagely: "By Heaven, I hope that +train will fly the track and ditch him before eveh he comes within +ordering distance of the work in Qua'tz Creek Canyon!" + +"Why, Uncle Somerville--how vindictive!" cried Virginia. "Who is he, +and what has he done?" + +"He is Misteh John Winton, as you informed me just now; one of the +brainiest constructing engineers in this entiah country, and the +hardest man in this or any otheh country to down in a right-of-way +fight--that's who he is. And it's not what he's done, my deah +Virginia, it's what he is going to do. If I can't get him killed up +out of ouh way,"--but here Mr. Darrah saw the growing terror in two +pairs of eyes, and realizing that he was committing himself before an +unsympathetic audience, beat a hasty retreat to his stronghold at the +other end of the Rosemary. + +"Well!" said the flaxen-haired Bessie, catching her breath. But +Virginia laughed. + +"I'm glad I'm not Mr. Winton," she said. + + + + +IV. THE CRYSTALLINE ALTITUDES + + +Morning in the highest highlands of the Rockies, a morning clear, +cold, and tense, with a bell-like quality in the frosty air to make +the cracking of a snow-laden spruce-bough resound like a pistol-shot. +For Denver and the dwellers on the eastern plain the sun is an hour +high; but the hamlet mining-camp of Argentine, with its dovecote +railway station and two-pronged siding, still lies in the steel-blue +depths of the canyon shadow. + +Massive mountains, dark green to the timber line and dazzling white +above it, shut in the narrow valley to right and left. A mimic +torrent, ice-bound in the quieter pools, drums and gurgles on its +descent midway between two railway embankments, the one to which the +station and side-tracks belong, old and well-settled, the other new +and as yet unballasted. Just opposite the pygmy station a lateral +gorge intersects the main canyon, making a deep gash in the opposing +mountain bulwark, around which the new line has to find its way by a +looping detour. + +In a scanty widening of the main canyon a few hundred yards below the +station a graders' camp of rude slab shelters is turning out its horde +of wild-looking Italians; and on a crooked spur track fronting the +shanties blue wood-smoke is curling lazily upward from the kitchen car +of a construction train. + +All night long the Rosemary, drawn by the sturdiest of mountain-climbing +locomotives, had stormed onward and upward from the valley of the +Grand, through black defiles and around the shrugged shoulders of the +mighty peaks to find a resting-place in the white-robed dawn on the +siding at Argentine. The lightest of sleepers, Virginia had awakened +when the special was passing through Carbonate; and, drawing the berth +curtain, she had lain for an hour watching the solemn procession of +cliffs and peaks wheeling in stately and orderly array against the +inky background of sky. Now, in the steel-blue dawn, she was--or +thought she was--the first member of the party to dress and steal out +upon the railed platform to look abroad upon the wondrous scene in the +canyon. + +But her reverie, trance-like in its wordless enthusiasm, was presently +broken by a voice behind her--the voice, namely, of Mr. Arthur +Jastrow. + +"What a howling wilderness, to be sure, isn't it?" said the secretary, +twirling his eyeglasses by the cord and looking, as he felt, +interminably bored. + +"No, indeed; anything but that," she retorted warmly. "It is grander +than anything I ever imagined. I wish there were a piano in the car. +It makes me fairly ache to set it in some form of expression, and +music is the only form I know." + +"I'm glad if it doesn't bore you," he rejoined, willing to agree with +her for the sake of prolonging the interview. "But to me it is nothing +more than a dreary wilderness, as I say; a barren, rock-ribbed gulch +affording an indifferent right of way for two railroads." + +"For one," she corrected, in a quick upflash of loyalty for her kin. + +The secretary shifted his gaze from the mountains to the maiden and +smiled. She was exceedingly good to look upon--high-bred, queenly, and +just now the fine fire of enthusiasm quickened her pulses and sent the +rare flush to neck and cheek. + +Jastrow the cold-eyed, the business automaton, set to go off with a +click at Mr. Somerville Darrah's touch, had ambitions not automatic. +Some day he meant to put the world of business under foot as a +conqueror, standing triumphant on the apex of that pyramid of success +which the Mr. Somerville Darrahs were so painstakingly uprearing. When +that day should come, there would need to be an establishment, a +menage, a queen for the kingdom of success. Summing her up for the +hundredth time since the beginning of the westward flight, he thought +Miss Carteret would fill the requirements passing well. + +But this was a divagation, and he pulled himself back to the askings +of the moment, agreeing with her again without reference to his +private convictions. + +"For one, I should have said," he amended. "We mean to have it that +way, though an unprejudiced onlooker might be foolish enough to say +that there is a pretty good present prospect of two." + +But Miss Carteret was in a contradictory mood. Moreover, she was a +woman, and the way to a woman's confidence does not lie through the +neutral country of easy compliance. + +"If you won't take the other side, I will," she said. "There will be +two." + +Jastrow acquiesced a second time. + +"I shouldn't wonder. Our competitor's road seems to be only a question +of time--a very short time, judging from the number of men turning out +in the track gang down yonder." + +Virginia leaned over the railing to look past the car and the dovecote +station shading her eyes to shut out the snow-blink from the sun-fired +peaks. + +"Why, they are soldiers!" she exclaimed. "At least, some of them have +guns on their shoulders. And see--they are forming in line!" + +The secretary adjusted his eye-glasses. + +"By Jove! you are right; they have armed the track force. The new +chief of construction doesn't mean to take any chances of being shaken +loose by main strength. Here they come." + +The end of track of the new line was diagonally across the creek from +the Rosemary's berth and a short pistol-shot farther down stream. But +to advance it to a point opposite the private car, and to gain the +altitude of the high embankment directly across from the station, the +new line turned short out of the main canyon at the mouth of the +intersecting gorge, describing a long, U-shaped curve around the head +of the lateral ravine and doubling back upon itself to reenter the +canyon proper at the higher elevation. + +The curve which was the beginning of this U-shaped loop was the +morning's scene of action, and the Utah track-layers, two hundred +strong, moved to the front in orderly array, with armed guards as +flankers for the handcar load of rails which the men were pushing up +the grade. + +Jastrow darted into the car, and a moment later his place on the +observation platform was taken by a wrathful industry colonel fresh +from his dressing-room--so fresh, indeed, that he was coatless, +hatless, and collarless, and with the dripping bath-sponge clutched +like a missile to hurl at the impudent invaders on the opposite side +of the canyon. + +"Hah! wouldn't wait until a man could get into his clothes!" he +rasped, apostrophizing the Utah's new chief of construction. "Jastrow! +Faveh me instantly, seh! Hustle up to the camp there and turn out the +constable, town-marshal, or whatever he is. Tell him I have a writ for +him to serve. Run, seh!" + +The secretary appeared and disappeared like a marionette when the +string has been jerked by a vigorous hand, and Virginia smiled--this +without prejudice to a very acute appreciation of the grave +possibilities which were preparing themselves. But having her share of +the militant quality which made her uncle what he was, she stood her +ground. + +"Aren't you afraid you will take cold, Uncle Somerville?" she asked +archly; and the Rajah came suddenly to a sense of his incompleteness +and went in to finish his ablutions against the opening of the battle +actual. + +At first Virginia thought she would follow him. When Mercury Jastrow +should return with the officer of the law there would be trouble of +some sort, and the woman in her shrank from the witnessing of it. But +at the same instant the blood of the fighting Carterets asserted +itself and she resolved to stay. + +"I wonder what uncle hopes to be able to do?" she mused. "Will a +little town constable with a bit of signed paper from some lawyer or +judge be mighty enough to stop all that furious activity over there? +It's more than incredible." + +From that she fell to watching the activity and the orderly purpose of +it. A length of steel, with men clustering like bees upon it, would +slide from its place on the hand-car to fall with a frosty clang on +the cross-ties. Instantly the hammermen would pounce upon it. One +would fall upon hands and knees to "sight" it into place; two others +would slide the squeaking track-gage along its inner edge; a quartet, +working like the component parts of a faultless mechanism, would tap +the fixing spikes into the wood; and then at a signal a dozen of the +heavy pointed hammers swung aloft and a rhythmic volley of resounding +blows clamped the rail into permanence on its wooden bed. + +Ahead of the steel-layers were the Italians placing the cross-ties in +position to receive the track, and here the foreman's badge of office +and scepter was a pick-handle. Above all the clamor and the shoutings +Virginia could hear the bull-bellow of this foreman roaring out his +commands--in terms happily not understandable to her; and once she +drew back with a little cry of womanly shrinking when the pick-handle +thwacked upon the shoulders of one who lagged. + +It was this bit of brutality which enabled her to single out Winton in +the throng of workers. He heard the blow, and the oath that went with +it, and she saw him run forward to wrench the bludgeon from the +bully's hands and fling it afar. What words emphasized the act she +could not hear, but the little deed of swift justice thrilled her +curiously, and her heart warmed to him as it had when he had thrown +off his coat to fall to work on the derailed engine of the Limited. + +"That was fine!" she said to herself. "Most men in his place wouldn't +care, so long as the work was done, and done quickly. I wonder +if--oh, you startled me!" + +It was Mr. Somerville Darrah again, clothed upon and in his right +mind; otherwise the mind of a master of men who will brook neither +defeat at the hands of an antagonist nor disobedience on the part of +his following. He was scowling fiercely across at the Utah activities +when she spoke, but at her exclamation the frown softened into a smile +for his favorite niece. + +"Startled you, eh? Pahdon me, my deah Virginia. But as I am about to +startle some one else, perhaps you would better go in to your aunt." + +She put a hand on his arm. "Please let me stay out here, Uncle +Somerville," she said. "I'll be good and not get in the way." + +He shook his head, in deprecation rather than in refusal. + +"An officer will be here right soon now to make an arrest. There may +be a fight, or at least trouble of a sort you wouldn't care to see, my +deah." + +"Is it--is it Mr. Winton?" she asked. + +He nodded. + +"What has he been doing--besides being 'The Enemy'?" + +The Rajah's smile was ferocious. + +"Just now he is trespassing, and directing others to trespass, upon +private property. Do you see that dump up there on the mountain?--the +hole that looks like a mouth with a long gray beard hanging below it? +That is a mine, and its claim runs down across the track where Misteh +Winton is just now spiking his rails." + +"But, I don't understand," she began; then she stopped short and clung +to the strong arm. A man in a wide-flapped hat and cowboy +_chaparejos_, with a revolver on either hip, was crossing the stream +on the ice-bridge to scramble up the embankment of the new line. + +"The officer?" she asked in an awed whisper. + +The Rajah made a sign of assent. Then, identifying Winton in the +throng of workers, he forgot Virginia's presence. "Confound him!" he +fumed. "I'd give a thousand dollars if he'd faveh me by showing fight +so we could lock him up on a criminal count!" + +"Why, Uncle Somerville!" she cried. + +But there was no time for reproaches. The leather-breeched person +parading as the Argentine town-marshal had climbed the embankment, +and, singling out his man, was reading his warrant. + +Contrary to Mr. Darrah's expressed hope, Winton submitted quietly. +With a word to his men--a word that stopped the strenuous labor-battle +as suddenly as it had begun--he turned to pick his way down the rough +hillside at the heels of the marshal. + +For some reason that she could never have set out in words Virginia +was distinctly disappointed. It was no part of her desire to see the +conflict blaze up in violence, but it nettled her to see Winton give +up so easily. Some such thought as this had possession of her while +the marshal and his prisoner were picking their way across the ice, +and she was hoping that Winton would give her a chance to requite him, +if only with a look. + +But it was Town-Marshal Peter Biggin, affectionately known to his +constituents as "Bigginjin Pete," who gave her the coveted +opportunity. Instead of disappearing decently with his captive, the +marshal made the mistake of his life by marching Winton up the track +to the private car, thrusting him forward, and saying: "Here's yer +meat, Guv'nor. What-all 'ud ye like fer me to do with hit now I've +got it?" + +Now it is safe to assume that the Rajah had no intention of appearing +thus openly as the instigator of Winton's arrest. Hence, if a fierce +scowl and a wordless oath could maim, it is to be feared that the +overzealous Mr. Biggin would have been physically disqualified on the +spot. As it was, Mr. Darrah's ebullient wrath could find no adequate +speech forms, and in the eloquent little pause Winton had time to +smile up at Miss Carteret and to wish her the pleasantest of +good-mornings. + +But the Rajah's handicap was not permanent. + +"Confound you, seh!" he exploded. "I'm not a justice of the peace! If +you've made an arrest, you must have had a warrant for it, and you +ought to know what to do with your prisoneh." + +"I'm dashed if I do," objected the simple-hearted Mr. Biggin. "I +allowed you wanted him." + +Winton laughed openly. + +"Simplify it for him, Mr. Darrah. We all know that it was your move to +stop the work, and you have stopped it--for the moment. What is the +charge, and where is it answerable?" + +The Rajah dropped the mask and spoke to the point. + +"The cha'ge, seh, is trespass, and it is answerable in Judge +Whitcomb's cou't in Carbonate. The plaintiff in this particular case +is John Doe, the supposable owneh of that mining claim up yondeh. In +the next it will probably be Richa'd Roe. You are fighting a losing +battle, seh." + +Winton's smile showed his teeth. + +"That remains to be seen," he countered coolly. + +The Rajah waved a shapely hand toward the opposite embankment, where +the tracklayers were idling in silent groups waiting for some one in +authority to tell them what to do. + +"We can do that every day, Misteh Winton. And each separate individual +arrest will cost your company twelve hours, or such a matteh--the time +required for you to go to Carbonate to give bond for your appearance." + +During this colloquy Virginia had held her ground stubbornly, this +though she felt intuitively that it would be the greatest possible +relief to all three of these men if she would go away. + +But now a curious struggle as of a divided allegiance was holding her. +Of course, she wanted Mr. Somerville Darrah to win. Since he was its +advocate, his cause must be righteous and just. But against this +dutiful convincement there was a rebellious hope that Winton would not +allow himself to be beaten; or, rather, it was a feeling that she +would never forgive him if he should. + +So it was that she stood with face averted lest he should see her eyes +and read the rebellious hope in them. And in spite of the precaution +he both saw and read, and made answer to the Rajah's ultimatum +accordingly. + +"Do your worst, Mr. Darrah. We have some twenty miles of steel to lay +to take us into the Carbonate yards. That steel shall go down in spite +of anything you can do to prevent it." + +Virginia waited breathless for her uncle's reply to this cool +defiance. Quite contrary to all precedent, it was mildly +expostulatory. + +"It grieves me, seh, to find you so determined to cou't failure," he +began; and when the whistle of the upcoming Carbonate train gave him +leave to go on: "Constable, you will find transpo'tation for yourself +and one in the hands of the station agent. Misteh Winton, that is your +train. I wish you good-morning and a pleasant journey. Come, Virginia, +we shall be late to ouh breakfast." + +Winton walked back to the station at the heels of his captor, +cudgeling his brain to devise some means of getting word to Adams. +Happily the Technologian, who had been unloading steel at the +construction camp, had been told of the arrest, and when Winton +reached the station he found his assistant waiting for him. + +But now the train was at hand and time had grown suddenly precious. +Winton turned short upon the marshal. + +"This is not a criminal matter, Mr. Biggin: will you give me a moment +with my friend?" + +The ex-cowboy grinned. "Bet your life I will. I ain't lovin' that old +b'iler-buster in the private car none too hard." And he went in to get +the passes. + +"What's up?" queried Adams, forgetting his drawl for once in a way. + +"An arrest--trumped-up charge of trespass on that mining claim up +yonder. But I've got to go to Carbonate to answer the charge and give +bonds, just the same." + +"Any instructions?" + +"Yes. When the train is out of sight and hearing, you get back over +there and drive that track-laying for every foot there is in it." + +Adams nodded. "I'll do it, and get myself locked up, I suppose." + +"No, you won't; that's the beauty of it. The majesty of the law--all +there is of it in Argentine--goes with me to Carbonate in the person +of the town-marshal." + +"Oh, good--succulently good! Well, so long. I'll look for you back on +the evening train?" + +"Sure," was the confident reply, "if the Rajah doesn't order it to be +abandoned on my poor account." + +Ten minutes later, when the train had gone storming on its way to +Carbonate and the Rosemary party was at breakfast, the clank of steel +and the chanteys of the hammermen on the other side of the canyon +began again with renewed vigor. The Rajah threw up his head like a +war-horse scenting the battle from afar and laid his commands upon the +long-suffering secretary. + +"Faveh me, Jastrow. Get out there and see what they are doing, seh." + +The secretary was back in the shortest possible interval, and his +report was concise and business-like. + +"Work under full headway again, in charge of a fellow who wears a +billy-cock hat and smokes cigarettes." + +"Mr. Morton P. Adams," said Virginia, recognizing the description. +"Will you have him arrested too, Uncle Somerville?" + +But the Rajah rose hastily without replying and went to his office +state-room, followed, shadow-like, by the obsequious Jastrow. + +It was some little time after breakfast, and Virginia and the Reverend +Billy were doing a constitutional on the plank platform at the +station, when the secretary came down from the car on his way to the +telegraph office. + +It was Virginia who stopped him. "What do we do next, Mr. Jastrow?" +she said; "call in the United States Army?" + +For reply he handed her a telegram, damp from the copying press. It +was addressed to the superintendent of the C. G. R. at Carbonate, and +she read it without scruple. + + "Have the Sheriff of Ute County swear in a dozen deputies and come + with them by special train to Argentine. Revive all possible titles + to abandoned mining claims on line of the Utah Extension, and have + Sheriff Deckert bring blank warrants to cover any emergency. + + "DARRAH V.-P." + +"That's one of them," said the secretary. "I daren't show you the +other." + +"Oh, please!" she said, holding out her hand, while the Reverend Billy +considerately turned his back. + +Jastrow weighed the chances of detection. It was little enough he +could do to lay her under obligations to him, and he was willing to do +that little as he could. "I guess I can trust you," he said, and gave +her the second square of press-damp paper. + +Like the first, it was addressed to the superintendent at Carbonate. +But this time the brown eyes flashed and her breath came quickly as +she read the vice-president's cold-blooded after-thought: + + "Town-Marshal Biggin will arrive in Carbonate on Number 201 this + A.M. with a prisoner. Have our attorneys see to it that the man is + promptly jailed in default of bond. If he is set at liberty, as he + is likely to be, I shall trust you to arrange for his rearrest and + detention at all hazards. + + "D." + + + + +V. THE LANDSLIDE + + +Virginia took the first step in the perilous path of the strategist +when she handed the incendiary telegram back to Jastrow. + +"Poor Mr. Winton!" she said, with the real sympathy in the words made +most obviously perfunctory by the tone. "What a world of possibilities +there is masquerading behind that little word 'arrange.' Tell me more +about it, Mr. Jastrow. How will they 'arrange' it?" + +"Winton's rearrest? Nothing easier in a tough mining-camp like +Carbonate, I should say." + +"Yes, but how?" + +"I can't prophesy how Grafton will go about it, but I know what I +should do." + +Virginia's smile was irresistible, but there was a look in the deepest +depth of the brown eyes that was sifting Mr. Arthur Jastrow to the +innermost sand-heap of his desert nature. + +"How would you do it, Mr. Napoleon Jastrow?" she asked, giving him the +exact fillip on the side of gratified vanity. + +"Oh, I'd fix him. He is in a frame of mind right now; and by the time +the lawyers are through drilling him in the trespass affair, he'll be +just spoiling for a row with somebody." + +"Do you think so? Oh, how delicious! And then what?" + +"Then I'd hire some plug-ugly to stumble up against him and pick a +quarrel with him. He'd do the rest--and land in the lock-up." + +Those who knew her best said it was a warning to be heeded in Miss +Virginia Carteret when her eyes were downcast and her voice sank to +its softest cadence. + +"Why, certainly; how simple!" she said, taking her cousin's arm again; +and the secretary went in to set the wires at work in Winton's affair. + +Now Miss Carteret was a woman in every fiber of her, but among her +gifts she might have counted some that were, to say the least, +super-feminine. One of these was a measure of discretion which would +have been fairly creditable in a past master of diplomacy. So, while +the sympathetic part of her was crying out for a chance to talk +Winton's threatened danger over with some one, she lent herself +outwardly to the Reverend Billy's mood--which was one of scenic +enthusiasm; this without prejudice to a growing determination to +intervene in behalf of fair play for Winton if she could find a way. + +But the way obstinately refused to discover itself. The simple thing +to do would be to appeal to her uncle's sense of justice. It was not +like him to fight with ignoble weapons, she thought, and a tactful +word in season might make him recall the order to the superintendent. +But she could not make the appeal without betraying Jastrow. She knew +well enough that the secretary had no right to show her the telegrams; +knew also that Mr. Somerville Darrah's first word would be a demand to +know how she had learned the company's business secrets. Regarding +Jastrow as little as a high-bred young woman to whom sentiment is as +the breath of life can regard a man who is quite devoid of it, she was +still far enough from the thought of effacing him. + +To this expedient there was an unhopeful alternative: namely, the +sending, by the Reverend Billy, or, in the last resort, by herself, of +a warning message to Winton. But there were obstacles seemingly +insuperable. She had not the faintest notion of how such a warning +should be addressed; and again, the operator at Argentine was a +Colorado and Grand River employee, doubtless loyal to his salt, in +which case the warning message would never get beyond his +waste-basket. + +"Getting too chilly for you out here? Want to go in?" asked the +Reverend Billy, when the scenic enthusiasm began to outwear itself. + +"No; but I am tired of the sentry-go part of it--ten steps and a +turn," she confessed. "Can't we walk on the track a little way?" + +Calvert saw no reason why they might not, and accordingly helped her +over to the snow-encrusted path between the rails. + +"We can trot down and have a look at their construction camp, if you +like," he suggested, and thitherward they went. + +There was not much to see, after all, as the Reverend Billy remarked +when they had reached a coign of vantage below the curve. A string of +use-worn bunk cars; a "dinkey" caboose serving as the home on wheels +of the chief of construction and his assistant; a crooked siding with +a gang of dark-skinned laborers at work unloading a car of steel. +These in the immediate foreground; and a little way apart, perched +high enough on the steep slope of the mountain side to be out of the +camp turmoil, a small structure, half plank and half canvas--to wit, +the end-of-track telegraph office. + +It was Virginia who first marked the boxed-up tent standing on the +slope. + +"What do you suppose that little house-tent is for?" she asked. + +"I don't know," said Calvert. Then he saw the wires and ventured a +guess which hit the mark. + +"I didn't suppose they would have a telegraph office," she commented, +with hope rising again. + +"Oh, yes; they'd have to have a wire--one of their own. Under the +circumstances they could hardly use ours." + +"No," she rejoined absently. She was scanning the group of +steel-handlers in the hope that a young man in a billy-cock hat and +with a cigarette between his lips would shortly reveal himself. She +found him after a time and turned quickly to her cousin. + +"There is Mr. Adams down by the engine. Do you think he would come +over and speak to us if he knew we were here?" + +The Reverend Billy's smile was of honest admiration. + +"How could you doubt it? Wait here a minute and I'll call him for +you." + +He was gone before she could reply--across the ice-bridge spanning one +of the pools, and up the rough, frozen embankment of the new line. +There were armed guards here, too, as well as at the front, and one of +them halted him at the picket line. But Adams saw and recognized him, +and presently the two were crossing to where Virginia stood waiting +for them. + +"Eheu! what a little world we live in, Miss Virginia! Who would have +thought of meeting you here?" said Adams, taking her hand at the +precise elevation prescribed by good form--Boston good form. + +"The shock is mutual," she laughed. "I must say that you and Mr. +Winton have chosen a highly unconventional environment for your +sketching-field." + +"I'm down," he admitted cheerfully; "please don't trample on me. But +really, it wasn't all fib. Jack does do things with a pencil--other +things besides maps and working profiles, I mean. Won't you come over +and let me do the honors of the studio?"--with a grandiloquent +arm-sweep meant to include the construction camp in general and the +"dinkey" caboose-car in particular. + +It was the invitation she would have angled for, but she was too wise +to assent too readily. + +"Oh, no; I think we mustn't. I'm afraid Mr. Winton might not like it." + +"Not like it? If you'll come he'll never forgive himself for not being +here to 'shoot up' the camp for you in person. He is away, you know; +gone to Carbonate for the day." + +"Ought we to go, Cousin Billy?" she asked, shifting, not the decision, +but the responsibility for it, to broader shoulders. + +"Why not, if you care to?" said the athlete, to whom right-of-way +fights were mere matters of business in no wise conflicting with the +social ameliorations. + +Virginia hesitated. There was a thing to be said to Mr. Adams, and +that without delay; but how could she say it with her cousin standing +by to make an impossible trio out of any attempted duet confidential? +A willingness to see that Winton had fair play need not carry with it +an open desertion to the enemy. She must not forget to be loyal to her +salt; and, besides, Mr. Somerville Darrah's righteous indignation was +a possibility not lightly to be ignored. + +But, the upshot of the hesitant pause was a decision to brave the +consequences--all of them; so she took Calvert's arm for the slippery +crossing of the ice-bridge. + +Once on his own domain, Adams did the honors of the camp as thoroughly +and conscientiously as if the hour held no care heavier than the +entertainment of Miss Virginia Carteret. He explained the system under +which the material was kept moving forward to the ever-advancing +front; let her watch the rhythmic swing and slide of the rails from +the car to the benches; took her up into the cab of the big "octopod" +locomotive; gave her a chance to peep into the camp kitchen car; and +concluded by handing her up the steps of the "dinkey." + +"Oh, how comfortable!" she exclaimed, when he had shown her all the +space-saving contrivances of the field office. "And this is where you +and Mr. Winton work?" + +"It is where we eat and sleep," corrected Adams. "And speaking of +eating: it is hopelessly the wrong end of the day,--or it would be in +Boston,--but our Chinaman won't know the difference. Let me have him +make you a dish of tea,"--and the order was given before she could +protest. + +"While we are waiting for Ah Foo I'll show you some of Jack's +sketches," he went on, finding a portfolio and opening it upon the +drawing-board. + +"Are you quite sure Mr. Winton won't mind?" she asked. + +"Mind? He'd give a month's pay to be here to show them himself. He is +peacock vain of his one small accomplishment, Winton is--bores me to +death with it sometimes." + +"Really?" was the mocking rejoinder, and they began to look at the +sketches. + +They were heads, most of them, impressionistic studies in pencil or +pastel, with now and then a pen-and-ink bearing evidence of more +painstaking after-work. They were made on bits of map paper, the backs +of old letters, and not a few on leaves torn from an engineer's +note-book. + +"They don't count for much in an artistic way," said Adams, with the +brutal frankness of a friendly critic, "but they will serve to show +you that I wasn't all kinds of an embroiderer when I was telling you +about Winton's proclivities the other day." + +"I shouldn't apologize for that, if I were you," she retorted. "It is +well past apology, don't you think?" And then: "What is this one?" + +They had come to the last of the sketches, which was a rude map. It +was penciled on the leaf of a memorandum, and Adams recognized it as +the outline Winton had made and used in explaining the right-of-way +entanglement. + +"It is a map," he said; "one that Jack drew day before yesterday when +he was trying to make me understand the situation up here. I wonder +why he kept it? Is there anything on the other side?" + +She turned the leaf, and they both went speechless for the moment. The +reverse of the scrap of cross-ruled paper held a very fair likeness of +a face which Virginia's mirror had oftenest portrayed: a sketch +setting forth in a few vigorous strokes of the pencil the +impressionist's ideal of the "goddess fresh from the bath." + +"By Jove!" exclaimed Adams, when he could find the word for his +surprise. Then he tried to turn it off lightly. "There is a good bit +more of the artist in Jack than I have been giving him credit for. +Don't you know, he must have got the notion for that between two +half-seconds--when you recognized me on the platform at Kansas City. +It's wonderful!" + +"So very wonderful that I think I shall keep it," she rejoined, not +without a touch of austerity. Then she added: "Mr. Winton will +probably never miss it. If he does, you will have to explain the best +way you can." And Adams could only say "By Jove!" again, and busy +himself with pouring the tea which Ah Foo had brought in. + +In the nature of things the tea-drinking in the stuffy "dinkey" +drawing-room was not prolonged. Time was flying. Virginia's errand of +mercy was not yet accomplished, and Aunt Martha in her character of +anxious chaperon was not to be forgotten. Also, Miss Carteret had a +feeling that under his well-bred exterior Mr. Morton P. Adams was +chafing like any barbarian industry captain at this unwarrantable +intrusion and interruption. + +So presently they all forthfared into the sun-bright, snow-blinding, +out-of-door world, and Virginia gathered up her courage and took her +dilemma by the horns. + +"I believe I have seen everything now except that tent-place up +there," she asserted, groping purposefully for her opening. + +Adams called up another smile of acquiescence. "That is our telegraph +office. Would you care to see it?" He was of those who shirk all or +shirk nothing. + +"I don't know why I should care to, but I do," she replied, with +charming and childlike wilfulness; so the three of them trudged up the +slippery path to the operator's den on the slope. + +Not to evade his hospitable duty in any part, Adams explained the use +and need of a "front" wire, and Miss Carteret was properly interested. + +"How convenient!" she commented. "And you can come up here and talk to +anybody you like--just as if it were a telephone?" + +"To anyone in the company's service," amended Adams. "It is not a +commercial wire." + +"Then let us send a message to Mr. Winton," she suggested, playing the +part of the capricious _ingenue_ to the very upcast of a pair of +mischievous eyes. "I'll write it and you may sign it." + +Adams stretched his complaisance the necessary additional inch and +gave her a pencil and a pad of blanks. She wrote rapidly: + + "Miss Carteret has been here admiring your drawings. She took one of + them away with her, and I couldn't stop her without being rude. You + shouldn't have done it without asking her permission. She says--" + +"Oh, dear! I am making it awfully long. Does it cost so much a word?" + +"No," said Adams, not without an effort. He was beginning to be +distinctly disappointed in Miss Virginia, and was inwardly wondering +what piece of girlish frivolity he was expected to sign and send to +his chief. Meanwhile she went on writing: + + "--I am to tell you not to get into any fresh trouble--not to let + anyone else get you into trouble; by which I infer she means that + some attempt will be made to keep you from returning on the evening + train." + +"There, can you send all that?" she asked sweetly, giving the pad to +her host. + +Adams read the first part of the letter length telegram with inward +groanings, but the generous purpose of it struck him like a whip-blow +when he came to the thinly-veiled warning. Also it shamed him for his +unworthy judgment of Virginia. + +"I thank you very heartily, Miss Carteret," he said humbly. "It shall +be sent word for word." Then, for the Reverend William's benefit: +"Winton deserves all sorts of a snubbing for taking liberties with +your portrait. I'll see he gets more when he comes back." + +Here the matter rested; and, having done what she conceived to be her +charitable duty, Virginia was as anxious to get away as heart--the +heart of a slightly bored Reverend Billy, for instance--could wish. + +So they bade Adams good-by and picked their way down the frozen +embankment and across the ice-bridge; down and across and back to the +Rosemary, where they found a perturbed chaperon in a flutter of +solicitude arising upon their mysterious disappearance and long +absence. + +"It may be just as well not to tell any of them where we have been," +said Virginia in an aside to her cousin. And so the incident of +tea-drinking in the enemy's camp was safely put away like a little +personal note in its envelop with the flap gummed down. + + + + +VI. THE RAJAH GIVES AN ORDER + + +While Adams was dispensing commissary tea in iron-stone china cups to +his two guests in the "dinkey" field office, his chief, taking the +Rosemary's night run in reverse in the company of Town-Marshal Biggin, +was turning the Rajah's coup into a small Utah profit. + +Having come upon the ground late the night before, and from the +opposite direction, he had seen nothing of the extension grade west of +Argentine. Hence the enforced journey to Carbonate only anticipated an +inspection trip which he had intended to make as soon as he had seated +Adams firmly in the track-laying saddle. + +Not to miss his opportunity, at the first curve beyond Argentine he +passed his cigar-case to Biggin and asked permission to ride on the +rear platform of the day-coach for inspection purposes. + +"Say, pardner, what do you take me fer, anyhow?" was the reproachful +rejoinder. + +"For a gentleman in disguise," said Winton promptly. + +"Sim'larly, I do you; savvy? You tell me you ain't goin' to stampede, +and you ride anywhere you blame please. See? This here C. G. R. outfit +ain't got no surcingle on me." + +Winton smiled. + +"I haven't any notion of stampeding. As it happens, I'm only a day +ahead of time. I should have made this run to-morrow of my own accord +to have a look at the extension grade. You will find me on the rear +platform when you want me." + +"Good enough," was the reply; and Winton went to his post of +observation. + +Greatly to his satisfaction, he found that the trip over the C. G. R. +answered every purpose of a preliminary inspection of the Utah grade +beyond Argentine. For seventeen of the twenty miles the two lines were +scarcely more than a stone's throw apart, and when Biggin joined him +at the junction above Carbonate he had his note-book well filled with +the necessary data. + +"Make it, all right?" inquired the friendly bailiff. + +"Yes, thanks. Have another cigar?" + +"Don't care if I do. Say, that old fire-eater back yonder in the +private car has got a mighty pretty gal, ain't he?" + +"The young lady is his niece," said Winton, wishing that Mr. Biggin +would find other food for comment. + +"I don't care; she's pretty as a Jersey two-year-old." + +"It's a fine day," observed Winton; and then, to background Miss +Carteret effectually as a topic: "How do the people of Argentine feel +about the opposition to our line?" + +"They're red-hot; you can put your money on that. The C. G. R.'s a +sure-enough tail-twister where there ain't no competition. Your +road'll get every pound of ore in the camp if it ever gets through." + +Winton made a mental note of this up-cast of public opinion, and set +it over against the friendly attitude of the official Mr. Biggin. It +was very evident that the town-marshal was serving the Rajah's purpose +only because he had to. + +"I suppose you stand with your townsmen on that, don't you?" he +ventured. + +"Now you're shouting: that's me." + +"Then if that is the case, we won't take this little holiday of ours +any harder than we can help. When the court business is settled--it +won't take very long--you are to consider yourself my guest. We stop +at the Buckingham." + +"Oh, we do, do we? Say, pardner, that's white--mighty white. If I'd +'a' been an inch or so more'n half awake this morning when that old +b'iler-buster's hired man routed me out, I'd 'a' told him to go to +blazes with his warrant. Nex' time I will." + +Winton shook his head. "There isn't going to be any 'next time,' +Peter, my son," he prophesied. "When Mr. Darrah gets fairly down to +business he'll throw bigger chunks than the Argentine town-marshal at +us." + +By this time the train was slowing into Carbonate, and a few minutes +after the stop at the crowded platform they were making their way up +the single bustling street of the town to the court-house. + +"Ever see so many tin-horns and bunco people bunched in all your +round-ups?" said Biggin, as they elbowed through the uneasy shifting +groups in front of the hotel. + +"Not often," Winton admitted. "But it's the luck of the big camps: +they are the dumping-grounds of the world while the high pressure is +on." + +The ex-range-rider turned on the courthouse steps to look the sidewalk +loungers over with narrowing eyes. + +"There's Sheeny Mike and Big Otto and half a dozen others right there +in front o' the Buckingham that couldn't stay to breathe twice in +Argentine. And this town's got a po-lice!"--the comment with +lip-curling scorn. + +"It also has a county court which is probably waiting for us," said +Winton; whereupon they went in to appease the offended majesty of the +law. + +As Winton had predicted, his answer to the court summons was a mere +formality. On parting with his chief at the Argentine station +platform, Adams' first care had been to wire news of the arrest to the +Utah headquarters. Hence Winton found the company's attorney waiting +for him in Judge Whitcomb's courtroom, and his release on an +appearance bond was only a matter of moments. + +The legal affair dismissed, there ensued a weary interval of +time-killing. There was no train back to Argentine until nearly five +o'clock in the afternoon, and the hours dragged heavily for the two, +who had nothing to do but wait. Biggin endured his part of it manfully +till the midday dinner had been discussed; then he drifted off with +one of Winton's cigars between his teeth, saying that he should "take +poison" and shoot up the town if he could not find some more peaceful +means of keeping his blood in circulation. + +It was a little after three o'clock, and Winton was sitting at the +writing-table in the lobby of the hotel elaborating his hasty notebook +data of the morning's inspection, when a boy came in with a telegram. +The young engineer was not so deeply engrossed in his work as to be +deaf to the colloquy. + +"Mr. John Winton? Yes, he is here somewhere," said the clerk in answer +to the boy's question; and after an identifying glance: "There he +is--over at the writing-table." + +Winton turned in his chair and saw the boy coming toward him; also he +saw the ruffian pointed out by Biggin from the court-house steps and +labeled "Sheeny Mike" lounging up to the clerk's desk for a whispered +exchange of words with the bediamonded gentleman behind it. + +What followed was cataclysmic in its way. The lounger took three +staggering lurches toward Winton, brushed the messenger boy aside, and +burst out in a storm of maudlin invective. + +"Sign yerself 'Winton' now, do yet ye lowdown, turkey-trodden--" + +"One minute," said Winton curtly, taking the telegram from the boy and +signing for it. + +"I'll give ye more'n ye can carry away in less'n half that time--see?" +was the minatory retort; and the threat was made good by an awkward +buffet which would have knocked the engineer out of his chair if he +had remained in it. + +Now Winton's eyes were gray and steadfast, but his hair was of that +shade of brown which takes the tint of dull copper in certain lights, +and he had a temper which went with the red in his hair rather than +with the gray in his eyes. Wherefore his attempt to placate his +assailant was something less than diplomatic. + +"You drunken scoundrel!" he snapped. "If you don't go about your +business and let me alone, I'll turn you over to the police with a +broken bone or two!" + +The bully's answer was a blow delivered straight from the shoulder--too +straight to harmonize with the fiction of drunkenness. Winton saw the +sober purpose in it and went battle-mad, as a hasty man will. Being a +skilful boxer,--which his antagonist was not,--he did what he had to +do neatly and with commendable despatch. Down, up; down, up; down a +third time, and then the bystanders interfered. + +"Hold on!" + +"That'll do!" + +"Don't you see he's drunk?" + +"Enough's as good as a feast--let him go." + +Winton's blood was up, but he desisted, breathing threatenings. +Whereat Biggin shouldered his way into the circle. + +"Pay your bill and let's hike out o' this, _pronto_!" he said in a low +tone. "You ain't got no time to fool with a Carbonate justice shop." + +But Winton was not to be brought to his senses so easily. + +"Run away from that swine? Not if I know it. Let him take it into +court if he wants to. I'll be there, too." + +The beaten one was up now and apparently looking for an officer. + +"I'm takin' ye all to witness," he rasped. "I was on'y askin' him to +cash up what he lost to me las' night, and he jumps me. But I'll stick +him if there's any law in this camp." + +Now all this time Winton had been holding the unopened telegram +crumpled in his fist, but when Biggin pushed him out of the circle and +thrust him up to the clerk's desk, he bethought him to read the +message. It was Virginia's warning, signed by Adams, and a single +glance at the closing sentence was enough to cool him suddenly. + +"Pay the bill, Biggin, and join me in the billiard-room, quick!" he +whispered, pressing money into the town-marshal's hand and losing +himself in the crowd. And when Biggin had obeyed his instructions: +"Now for a back way out of this, if there is one. We'll have to take +to the hills till train time." + +They found a way through the bar and out into a side street leading +abruptly up to the spruce-clad hills behind the town. Biggin held his +peace until they were safe from immediate danger of pursuit. Then his +curiosity got the better of him. + +"Didn't take you more'n a week to change your mind about pullin' it +off with that tinhorn scrapper in the courts, did it?" + +"No," said Winton. + +"'Tain't none o' my business, but I'd like to know what stampeded +you." + +"A telegram,"--shortly. "It was a put-up job to have me locked up on a +criminal charge, and so hold me out another day." + +Biggin grinned. "The old b'iler-buster again. Say, he's a holy terror, +ain't he?" + +"He doesn't mean to let me build my railroad if he can help it." + +The ex-cowboy found his sack of chip tobacco and dexterously rolled a +cigarette in a bit of brown wrapping-paper. + +"If that's the game, Mr. Sheeny Mike, or his backers, will be most +likely to play it to a finish, don't you guess?" + +"How?" + +"By havin' a po-liceman layin' for you at the train." + +"I hadn't thought of that." + +"Well, I can think you out of it, I reckon. The branch train is a +'commodation, and it'll stop most anywhere if you throw up your hand +at it. We can take out through the woods and across the hills, and mog +up the track a piece. How'll that do?" + +"It will do for me, but there is no need of your tramping when you can +just as well ride." + +But now that side of Mr. Peter Biggin which endears him and his kind +to every man who has ever shared his lonely round-ups, or broken bread +with him in his comfortless shack, came uppermost. + +"What do you take me fer?" was the way it vocalized itself; but there +was more than a formal oath of loyal allegiance in the curt question. + +"For a man and a brother," said Winton heartily; and they set out +together to waylay the outgoing train at some point beyond the danger +limit. + +It was accomplished without further mishap, and the short winter day +was darkening to twilight when the train came in sight and the +engineer slowed to their signal. They climbed aboard, and when they +had found a seat in the smoker the chief of construction spoke to the +ex-cowboy as to a friend. + +"I hope Adams has knocked out a good day's work for us," he said. + +"Your pardner with the store hat and the stinkin' cigaroots?--he's all +right," said Biggin; and it so chanced that at the precise moment of +the saying the subject of it was standing with the foreman of +track-layers at a gap in the new line just beyond and above the +Rosemary's siding at Argentine, his day's work ended, and his men +loaded on the flats for the run down to camp over the lately-laid +rails of the lateral loop. + +"Not such a bad day, considering the newness of us and the bridge at +the head of the gulch," he said, half to himself. And then more +pointedly to the foreman: "Bridge-builders to the front at the first +crack of dawn, Mike. Why wasn't this break filled in the grading?" + +"Sure, sorr, 'tis a dhrain it is," said the Irishman; "from the placer +up beyant," he added, pointing to a washed-out excoriation on the +steep upper slope of the mountain. "Major Evarts did be tellin' us +we'd have the lawyers afther us hot-fut again if we didn't be lavin' +ut open the full width." + +"Mmph!" said Adams, looking the ground over with a critical eye. "It's +a bad bit. It wouldn't take much to bring that whole slide down on us +if it wasn't frozen solid. Who owns the placer?" + +"Two fellies over in Carbonate. The company did be thryin' to buy the +claim, but the sharps wouldn't sell--bein' put up to hold ut by thim +C. G. R. divils. It's more throuble we'll be havin' here, I'm +thinking." + +While they lingered a shrill whistle, echoing like an eldrich laugh +among the cliffs of the upper gorge, announced the coming of a train +from the direction of Carbonate. Adams looked at his watch. + +"I'd like to know what that is," he mused. "It's an hour too soon for +the accommodation. By Jove!" + +The exclamation directed itself at a one-car train which came +thundering down the canyon to pull in on the siding beyond the +Rosemary. The car was a passenger coach, well-lighted, and from his +post on the embankment Adams could see armed men filling the windows. +Michael Branagan saw them, too, and the fighting Celt in him rose to +the occasion. + +"'Tis Donnybrook Fair we've come to this time, Misther Adams. Shall I +call up the b'ys wid their guns?" + +"Not yet. Let's wait and see what happens." + +What happened was a peaceful sortie. Two men, each with a kit of some +kind borne in a sack, dropped from the car, crossed the creek, and +struggled up the hill through the unbridged gap. Adams waited until +they were fairly on the right of way, then he called down to them. + +"Halt, there! you two. This is corporation property." + +"Not much it ain't!" retorted one of the trespassers gruffly. "It's +the drain-way from our placer up yonder." + +"What are you going to do up there at this time of night?" + +"None o' your blame business!" was the explosive counter-shot. + +"Perhaps it isn't," said Adams mildly. "Just the same, I'm thirsting +to know. Call it vulgar curiosity if you like." + +"All right, you can know, and be cussed to you. We're goin' to work +our claim. Got anything to say against it?" + +"Oh! no," rejoined Adams; and when the twain had disappeared in the +upper darkness he went down the grade with Branagan and took his place +on the man-loaded flats for the run to the construction camp, thinking +more of the lately-arrived car with its complement of armed men than +of the two miners who had calmly announced their intention of working +a placer claim on a high mountain, without water, and in the dead of +winter! By which it will be seen that Mr. Morton P. Adams, +C. E. M. I. T. Boston, had something yet to learn in the matter of +practical field work. + +By the time Ah Foo had served him his solitary supper in the dinkey he +had quite forgotten the incident of the mysterious placer miners. +Worse than this, it had never occurred to him to connect their +movements with the Rajah's plan of campaign. On the other hand, he was +thinking altogether of the carload of armed men, and trying to devise +some means of finding out how they were to be employed in furthering +the Rajah's designs. + +The means suggested themselves after supper, and he went alone over to +Argentine to spend a half-hour in the bar of the dance-hall listening +to the gossip of the place. When he had learned what he wanted to +know, he forthfared to meet Winton at the incoming train. + +"We are in for it now," he said, when they had crossed the creek to +the dinkey and the Chinaman was bringing Winton's belated supper. "The +Rajah has imported a carload of armed mercenaries, and he is going to +clean us all out to-morrow: arrest everybody from the gang foremen +up." + +Winton's eyebrows lifted. "So? that is a pretty large contract. Has he +men enough to do it?" + +"Not so many men. But they are sworn-in deputies, with the sheriff of +Ute County in command--a posse, in fact. So he has the law on his +side." + +"Which is more than he had when he set a thug on me this afternoon at +Carbonate," said Winton sourly; and he told Adams about the +misunderstanding in the lobby of the Buckingham. His friend whistled +under his breath. "By Jove! that's pretty rough. Do you suppose the +Rajah dictated any such Lucretia Borgia thing as that?" + +Winton took time to think about it and admitted a doubt, as he had not +before. Believing Mr. Somerville Darrah fit for treasons, stratagems, +and spoils in his official capacity of vice-president of a fighting +corporation, he was none the less disposed to find excuses for Miss +Virginia Carteret's uncle. + +"I did think so at first, but I guess it was only the misguided zeal +of some understrapper. Of course, word has gone out all along the +C. G. R. line that we are to be delayed by every possible expedient." + +But Adams shook his head. + +"Mr. Darrah dictated that move in his own proper person." + +"How do you know that?" + +"You had a message from me this afternoon?" + +"I did." + +"What did you think of it?" + +"I thought you might have left out the first part of it; also that you +might have made the latter half a good bit more explicit." + +A slow smile spread itself over Adams' impassive face. + +"Every man has his limitations," he said. "I did the best I could. But +the Rajah knew very well what he was about--otherwise there would have +been no telegram." + +Winton sent the Chinaman out for another cup of tea before he said, +"Did Miss Carteret come here alone?" + +"Oh, no; Calvert came with her." + +"What brought them here?" + +Adams spread his hands. + +"What makes any woman do precisely the most unexpected thing?" + +Winton was silent for a moment. Finally he said: "I hope you did what +you could to make it pleasant for her." + +"I did. And I didn't hear her complain." + +"That was low-down in you, Morty." + +Adams chuckled reminiscently. "Had to do it to make my day-before-yesterday +lie hold water. And she was immensely taken with the scrawls, especially +with one of them." + +Winton flushed under the bronze. + +"I suppose I don't need to ask which one." + +Adams' grin was a measure of his complacence. + +"Well, hardly." + +"She took it away with her?" + +"Took it, or tore it up, I forget which." + +"Tell me, Morty, was she very angry?" + +The other took the last hint of laughter out of his eyes before he +said solemnly: "You'll never know how thankful I was that you were +twenty miles away." + +Winton's cup was full, and he turned the talk abruptly to the +industrial doings and accomplishments of the day. Adams made a verbal +report which led him by successive steps up to the twilight hour when +he had stood with Branagan on the brink of the placer drain, but, +strangely enough, there was no stirring of memory to recall the +incident of the upward-climbing miners. + +When Winton rose he said something about mounting a night guard on the +engine, which was kept under steam at all hours; and shortly afterward +he left the dinkey ostensibly to do it, declining Adams' offer of +company. But once out-of-doors he climbed straight to the operator's +tent on the snow-covered slope. Carter had turned in, but he sat up in +his bunk at the noise of the intrusion. + +"That you, Mr. Winton? Want to send something?" he asked. + +"No, go to sleep. I'll write a wire and leave it for you to send in +the morning." + +He sat down at the packing-case instrument table and wrote out a brief +report of the day's progress in track-laying for the general manager's +record. But when Carter's regular breathing told him he was alone he +pushed the pad aside, took down the sending-hook, and searched until +he had found the original copy of the message which had reached him at +the moment of cataclysms in the lobby of the Buckingham. + +"Um," he said, and his heart grew warm within him. "It's just about as +I expected: Morty didn't have anything whatever to do with it--except +to sign and send it as she commanded him to." And the penciled sheet +was folded carefully and filed in permanence in the inner breast +pocket of his brown duck shooting-coat. + +The moon was rising behind the eastern mountain when he extinguished +the candle and went out. Below lay the chaotic construction camp +buried in silence and in darkness save for the lighted windows of the +dinkey. He was not quite ready to go back to Adams, and after making a +round of the camp and bidding the engine watchman keep a sharp lookout +against a possible night surprise, he set out to walk over the +newly-laid track of the day. + +Another half-hour had elapsed, and a waning moon was clearing the +topmost crags of Pacific Peak when he came out on the high embankment +opposite the Rosemary, having traversed the entire length of the +lateral loop and inspected the trestle at the gulch head by the light +of a blazing spruce-branch. + +The station with its two one-car trains, and the shacks of the little +mining-camp beyond, lay shimmering ghost-like in the new-born light of +the moon. The engine of the sheriff's car was humming softly with a +note like the distant swarming of bees, and from the dancehall in +Argentine the snort of a trombone and the tinkling clang of a cracked +piano floated out upon the frosty night air. + +Winton turned to go back. The windows of the Rosemary were all dark, +and there was nothing to stay for. So he thought, at all events; but +if he had not been musing abstractedly upon things widely separated +from his present surroundings, he might have remarked two tiny stars +of lantern-light high on the placer ground above the embankment; or, +failing the sight, he might have heard the dull, measured _slumph_ +of a churn-drill burrowing deep in the frozen earth of the slope. + +As it was, a pair of brown eyes blinded him, and the tones of a voice +sweeter than the songs of Oberon's sea-maid filled his ears. Wherefore +he neither saw nor heard; and taking the short cut across the mouth of +the lateral gulch back to camp, he boarded the dinkey and went to bed +without disturbing Adams. + +The morning of the day to come broke clear and still, with the stars +paling one by one at the pointing finger of the dawn, and the +frost-rime lying thick and white like a snowfall of erect and +glittering needles on iron and steel and wood. + +Obedient to orders, the bridge-builders were getting out their +hand-car at the construction camp, the wheels shrilling merrily on the +frosted rails, and the men stamping and swinging their arms to start +the sluggish night-blood. Suddenly, like the opening gun of a battle, +the dull rumble of a mighty explosion trembled upon the still air, +followed instantly by a sound as of a passing avalanche. + +Winton was out and running up the track before the camp was fairly +aroused. What he saw when he gained the hither side of the lateral +gulch was a sight to make a strong man weep. A huge landslide, +starting from the frozen placer ground high up on the western +promontory, had swept every vestige of track and embankment into the +deep bed of the creek at a point precisely opposite Mr. Somerville +Darrah's private car. + + + + +VII. THE MAJESTY OF THE LAW + + +Virginia was up and dressed when the sullen shock of the explosion +set the windows jarring in the Rosemary. + +She hurried out upon the observation platform and so came to look +upon the ruin wrought by the landslide while the dust-like smoke of +the dynamite still hung in the air. + +"Rather unlucky for our friends the enemy," said a colorless voice +behind her; and she had an uncomfortable feeling that Jastrow had +been lying in wait for her. + +She turned upon him quickly. + +"Was it an accident, Mr. Jastrow?" + +"How could it be anything else?" he inquired mildly. + +"I don't know. But there was an explosion: I heard it." + +"It is horribly unfair," she went on. "I understand the sheriff is +here. Couldn't he have prevented this?" + +The secretary's rejoinder was a platitude: "Everything is fair in +love or war." + +"But this is neither," she retorted. + +"Think not?" he said coolly. "Wait, and you'll see. And a word in +your ear, Miss Carteret: you are one of us, you know, and you mustn't +be disloyal. I know what you did yesterday after you read those +telegrams." + +Virginia's face became suddenly wooden. Until that moment it had not +occurred to her that Jastrow's motive in showing her the two telegrams +might have been carefully calculated. + +"I have never given you the right to speak to me that way, Mr. +Jastrow," she said, with the faintest possible emphasis on the +courtesy prefix; and with that she turned from him to focus her +field-glass on the construction camp below. + +At the Utah stronghold all was activity of the fiercest. Winton had +raced back with his news of the catastrophe, and the camp was alive +with men clustering like bees and swarming upon the flat-cars of the +material-train to be taken to the front. + +While she looked, studiously ignoring the man behind her, Virginia +saw the big octopod engine clamoring up the grade. In a twinkling +the men were off and at work. + +Virginia's color rose and the brown eyes filled swiftly. One part +of her ideal was courage of the sort that rises the higher for +reverses. But at the instant she remembered the secretary, and, lest +he should spy upon her emotion, she turned and took refuge in the +car. + +In the Rosemary the waiter was laying the plates for breakfast, and +Bessie and the Reverend William were at the window, watching the +stirring industry battle now in full swing on the opposite slope. +Virginia joined them. + +"Isn't it a shame!" she said. "Of course, I want our side to win; +but it seems such a pity that we can't fight fairly." + +Calvert said, "Isn't what a shame?" thereby eliciting a crisp +explanation from Virginia in which she set well-founded suspicion +in the light of fact. + +The Reverend Billy shook his head. + +"Such things may be within the law--of business; but they will surely +breed bad blood--" + +The interruption was the Rajah in his proper person, bustling out +fiercely to a conference with his Myrmidons. By tacit consent the +three at the window fell silent. + +There was a hasty mustering of armed men under the windows of the +Rosemary, and they heard Sheriff Deckert's low-voiced instructions +to his posse. + +"Take it slow and easy, boys, and don't get rattled. Now, then; guns +to the front! Steady!" + +The Reverend Billy rose. + +"What are you going to do?" said Virginia. + +"I'm going to give Winton a tip if it's the last thing I ever do." + +She shook her head and pointed eastward to the mouth of the lateral +gulch. Under cover of a clump of evergreen-scrub a man in a +wideflapped hat and leather breeches was climbing swiftly to the level +of the new line, cautiously waving a handkerchief as a peace token. +"That is the man who arrested Mr. Winton yesterday. This time he is +going to fight on the other side. He'll carry the warning." + +"Think so?" said Calvert. + +"I am sure of it. Open the window, please. I want to see better." + +As yet there was no sign of preparation on the embankment. For the +moment the rifles of the track force were laid aside, and every man +was plying pick or shovel. + +Winton was in the thick of the pick-and-shovel melee, urging it on, +when Biggin ran up. + +"Hi!" he shouted. "Fixin' to take another play-day in Carbonate? +Lookee down yonder!" + +Winton looked and became alive to the possibilities in the turning +of a leaf. + +"Guns!" he yelled; and at the word of command the tools were flung +aside, and the track force, over two hundred strong, became an army. + +"Mulcahey, take half the men and go up the grade till you can rake +those fellows without hitting the car. Branagan, you take the other +half and go down till you can cross-fire with Mulcahey. Aim low, both +of you; and the man who fires before he gets the word from me will +break his neck at a rope's end. Fall in!" + +"By Jove!" said Adams. "Are you going to resist? That spells felony, +doesn't it?" + +Winton pointed to the waiting octopod. + +"I'm going to order the Two-fifteen down out of the way: you may go +with her if you like." + +"I guess not!" quoth the assistant, calmly lighting a fresh cigarette. +And then to the water-boy, who was acting quartermaster: "Give me +a rifle and a cartridge-belt, Chunky, and I'll stay here with the +boss." + +"And where do I come in?" said Biggin to Winton reproachfully. + +"You'll stay out, if your head's level. You've done enough already +to send you to Canyon City." + +"I ain't a-forgettin' nothing," said Peter cheerfully, casting himself +flat behind a heap of earth on the dump-edge. + +While the sheriff's posse was picking its way gingerly over the loose +rock and earth dam formed by the landslide, the window went up in +the Rosemary and Winton saw Virginia. Without meaning to, she gave +him his battle-word. + +"We are a dozen Winchesters to your one, Mr. Deckert, and we shall +resist force with force. Order your men back or there will be +trouble." + +Winton stood out on the edge of the cutting, a solitary figure where +a few minutes before the earth had been flying from a hundred shovels. + +The sheriff's reply was an order, but not for retreat. + +"He's one of the men we want; cover him!" he commanded. + +Unless the public occasion appeals strongly to the sympathies or the +passions, a picked-up sheriff's posse is not likely to have very good +metal in it. Peter Biggin laughed. + +"Don't be no ways nervous," he said in an aside to Winton. "Them +professional veniry chumps couldn't hit the side o' Pacific Peak." + +Winton held his ground, while the sheriff tried to drive his men up +a bare slope commanded by two hundred rifles to right and left. The +attempt was a humiliating failure. Being something less than soldiers +trained to do or die, the deputies hung back to a man. + +Virginia could not forbear a smile. The sheriff burst into caustic +profanity. Whereupon Mr. Peter Biggin rose up and sent a bullet to +plow a little furrow in the ice within an inch of Deckert's heels. + +"Ex-cuse _me_, Bart," he drawled, "but no cuss words don't go." + +The sheriff ignored Peter Biggin as a person who could be argued with +at leisure and turned to Winton. + +"Come down!" he bellowed. + +Winton laughed. + +"Let me return the invitation. Come up, and you may read your warrants +to us all day." + +Deckert withdrew his men, and at Winton's signal the track-layers +came in and the earth began to fly again. + +Virginia sighed her relief, and Bessie plucked up courage to go to +the window, which she had deserted in the moment of impending battle. + +"Breakfast is served," announced the waiter as calmly as if the +morning meal were the only matter of consequence in a world of +happenings. + +They gathered about the table, a silent trio made presently a quartet +by the advent of Mrs. Carteret, who had neither seen nor heard +anything of the warlike episode with which the day had begun. + +Mr. Darrah was late, so late that when he came in, Virginia was the +only one of the four who remained at table. She stayed to pour his +coffee and to bespeak peace. + +"Uncle Somerville, can't we win without calling in these horrid men +with their guns?" + +A mere shadow of a grim smile came and went in the Rajah's eyes. + +"An unprejudiced outsideh might say that the 'horrid men with their +guns' were on top of that embankment, my deah--ten to ouh one," he +remarked. + +"But I should think we might win in some other way," Virginia +persisted undauntedly. + +Mr. Darrah pushed his plate aside and cleared his throat. + +"For business reasons which you--ah--wouldn't undehstand, we can't +let the Utah finish this railroad of theirs into Carbonate this +winteh." + +"So much I have inferred. But Mr. Winton seems to be very determined." + +"Mmph! I wish Mr. Callowell had favehed us with some one else--any +one else. That young fellow is a bawn fighteh, my deah." + +Virginia had a bright idea, and she advanced it without examining +too closely into its ethical part. + +"Mr. Winton is working for wages, isn't he?" she asked. + +"Of cou'se; big money, at that. His sawt come high." + +"Well, why can't you hire him away from the other people? Mr. +Callowell might not be so fortunate next time." + +The Rajah sat back in his chair and regarded her thoughtfully. + +"What is it?" she asked. + +"Nothing my deah--nothing at all. I was just wondering how a +woman's--ah--sense of propo'tion was put togetheh. But your plan has +merit. Do I understand that you will faveh me with your help?" + +"Why, ye-es, certainly, if I can," she assented, not without dubiety. +"That is, I'll be nice to Mr. Winton." + +"That is precisely what I mean, my deah. We'll begin by having him +heah to dinneh this evening, him and the otheh young man--what's his +name?--Adams." + +And the upshot of the matter was a dainty note which found its way +by the hands of the private-car porter to Winton, laboring manfully +at his task of repairing the landslide damages. + +"Mr. Somerville Darrah's compliments to Mr. John Winton and Mr. Morton +P. Adams, and he will be pleased if they will dine with the party +in the car Rosemary at seven o'clock. + +"Informal. + +"Wednesday, December the Ninth." + + + + +VIII. THE GREEKS BRINGING GIFTS + + +Adams said "By Jove!" in his most cynical drawl when Winton gave him +the dinner-bidding to read: then he laughed. + +Winton recovered the dainty note, folding it carefully and putting it +in his pocket. The handwriting was the same as that of the telegram +abstracted from Operator Carter's sending-book. + +"I don't see anything to laugh at," he objected. + +"No? First the Rajah sends the sheriff's posse packing without +striking a blow, and now he invites us to dinner." + +"You make me exceedingly tired at odd moments, Morty. Why can't you +give Mr. Darrah the credit of being what he really is at bottom--a +right-hearted Virginia gentleman of the old school?" + +"You don't mean that you are going to accept!" said Adams, aghast. + +"Certainly; and so are you." + +There was no more to be said, and Adams held his peace while Winton +scribbled a line of acceptance on a leaf of his note-book and sent it +across to the Rosemary by the hand of the water-boy. + +Their reception at the steps of the Rosemary was a generous proof of +the aptness of that aphorism which sums up the status _post bellum_ in +the terse phrase, "After war, peace." Mr. Darrah met them; was +evidently waiting for them. + +"Come in, gentlemen; come in and be at home,"--this with a hand for +each. "Virginia allowed you wouldn't faveh us, but I assured her she +didn't rightly know men of the world: told her that a picayune +business affair in which we are all acting as corporation proxies +needn't spell out anything like a blood feud between gentlemen." + +For another man the informal table gathering might have been easily +prohibitive of confidences _a deux_, even with a Virginia Carteret to +help, but Winton was far above the trammelings of time and place. He +had eyes and ears only for the sweet-faced, low-voiced young woman +beside him, and some of his replies to the others were irrelevant +enough to send a smile around the board. + +"How very absent-minded Mr. Winton seems to be this evening!" murmured +Bessie from her niche between Adams and the Reverend Billy at the +farther end of the table. "He isn't quite at his best, is he, Mr. +Adams?" + +"No, indeed," said Adams, matching her undertone, "very far from it. +He has been a bit off all day: touch of mountain fever, I'm afraid." + +"But he doesn't look at all ill," objected Miss Bessie. "I should say +he is a perfect picture of rude health." + +The coffee was served, and Mrs. Carteret was rising. Whereupon Miss +Virginia handed her cup to Adams, and so had him for her companion in +the tete-a-tete chair, leaving Winton to shift for himself. + +The shifting process carried him over to the Rajah and the Reverend +Billy, to a small table in a corner of the compartment, and the +enjoyment of a mild cigar. + +Later, when Calvert had been eliminated by Miss Bessie, Winton looked +to see the true inwardness of the dinner-bidding made manifest by his +host. + +But Mr. Darrah chatted on, affably noncommittal, and after a time +Winton began to upbraid himself for suspecting the ulterior motive. +And when he finally rose to excuse himself on a letter-writing plea, +his leave-taking was that of the genial host reluctant to part company +with his guest. + +"I've enjoyed your conve'sation, seh; enjoyed it right much. May I +hope you will faveh us often while we are neighbors?" + +Winton rose, made the proper acknowledgments, and would have crossed +the compartment to make his adieus to Mrs. Carteret. But at that +moment Virginia came between. + +"You are not going yet, are you, Mr. Winton? Don't hurry. If you are +dying to smoke a pipe, as Mr. Adams says you are, we can go out on the +platform. It isn't too cold, is it?" + +"It is clear and frosty, a beautiful night," he hastened to say. "May +I help you with your coat?" + +So presently Winton had his heart's desire, which was to be alone with +Virginia. + +She nerved herself for the plunge,--her uncle's plunge. + +"Your part in the building of this other railroad is purely a business +affair, is it not?" + +"My personal interest? Quite so; a mere matter of dollars and cents, +you may say." + +"If you should have another offer, from some other company--" + +"That is not your argument; it is Mr. Darrah's. You know well enough +what is involved: honor, integrity, good faith, everything a man +values, or should value. I can't believe you would ask such a +sacrifice of me--of any man. + +"Indeed, I do not ask it, Mr. Winton. But it is only fair that you +should have your warning. My uncle will leave no stone unturned to +defeat you." + +He was still looking into her eyes, and so had courage to say what +came uppermost. + +"I don't care: I shall fight him as hard as I can, but I shall always +be his debtor for this evening. Do you understand?" + +In a flash her mood changed and she laughed lightly. + +"Who would think it of you, Mr. Winton. Of all men I should have said +you were the last to care so much for the social diversions. Shall we +go in?" + + + + +IX. THE BLOCK SIGNAL. +If Mr. John Winton, C. E., stood in need of a moral tonic, as Adams +had so delicately intimated to Miss Bessie Carteret, it was +administered in quantity sufficient before he slept on the night of +dinner-givings. + +For a clear-eyed theorist, free from all heart-trammelings and able to +grasp the unsentimental fact, the enemy's new plan of campaign wrote +itself quite legibly. With his pick and choice among the time-killing +expedients the Rajah could scarcely have found one more to his purpose +than the private car Rosemary, including in its passenger list a Miss +Virginia Carteret. + +All of which Adams, substituting friendly frankness for the +disciplinary traditions of the service, set forth in good Bostonian +English for the benefit and behoof of his chief, and was answered +according to his deserts with scoffings and deridings. + +"I wasn't born yesterday, Morty, and I'm not so desperately asinine as +you seem to think," was the besotted one's summing-up. "I know the +Rajah doesn't split hairs in a business fight, but he is hardly +unscrupulous enough to use Miss Carteret as a cat's-paw." + +But Adams would not be scoffed aside so easily. + +"You're off in your estimate of Mr. Darrah, Jack, 'way off. I know the +tradition: that a Southern gentleman is all chivalry when it comes to +a matter touching his womankind, and I don't controvert it as a +general proposition. But the Rajah has been a fighting Western +railroad magnate so long that his accent is about the only Southern +asset he has retained. If I'm any good at guessing, he will stick at +nothing to gain his end." + +Winton admitted the impeachment without prejudice to his own point of +view. + +"Perhaps you are right. But forewarned is forearmed. And Miss Virginia +is not going to lend herself to any such nefarious scheme." + +"Not consciously, perhaps; but you don't know her yet. If she saw a +good chance to take the conceit out of you, she'd improve it--without +thinking overmuch of the possible consequences to the Utah company." + +"Pshaw!" said Winton. "That is another of your literary inferences. +I've met her only twice, yet I venture to say I know her better than +you do. If she cared anything for me--which she doesn't--" + +"Oh, go to sleep!" said Adams, who was not minded to argue further +with a man besotted; and so the matter went by default for the time. + +But in the days that followed, days in which the sun rose and set in +cloudless winter splendor and the heavy snows still held aloof, Adams' +prediction wrought itself out into sober fact. After the single appeal +to force, Mr. Darrah seemed to give up the fight. None the less, the +departure of the Rosemary was delayed, and its hospitable door was +always open to the Utah chief of construction and his assistant. + +It was very deftly done, and even Adams, the clear-eyed, could not +help admiring the Rajah's skilful finesse. Of formal dinner-givings +there might easily have been an end, since the construction camp had +nothing to offer in return. But the formalities were studiously +ignored, and the two young men were put upon a footing of intimacy and +encouraged to come and go as they pleased. + +Winton took his welcome broadly, as what lover would not? and within a +week was spending most of his evenings in the Rosemary--this at a time +when every waking moment of the day and night was deeply mortgaged to +the chance of success. For now that the Rajah had withdrawn his +opposition, Nature and the perversity of inanimate things had taken a +hand, and for a fortnight the work of track-laying paused fairly +within sight of the station at Argentine. + +First it was a carload of steel accidentally derailed and dumped into +Quartz Creek at precisely the worst possible point in the lower +canyon, a jagged, rock-ribbed, cliff-bound gorge where each separate +piece of metal had to be hoisted out singly by a derrick erected for +the purpose--a process which effectually blocked the track for three +entire days. Next it was another landslide (unhelped by dynamite, +this) just above the station, a crawling cataract of loose, sliding +shale which, painstakingly dug out and dammed with plank bulkhead +during the day, would pour down and bury bulkhead, buttresses, and the +very right of way in the night. + +In his right mind--the mind of an ambitious young captain of industry +who sees defeat with dishonor staring him in the face--Winton would +have fought all the more desperately for these hindrances. But, +unfortunately, he was no longer an industry captain with an eye single +to success. He was become that anomaly despised of the working +world--a man in love. + +"It's no use shutting our eyes to the fact, Jack," said Adams one +evening, when his chief was making ready for his regular descent upon +the Rosemary. "We shall have to put night shifts at work on that +shale-slide if we hope ever to get past it with the rails." + +"Hang the shale!" was the impatient rejoinder. "I'm no galley slave." + +Adams' slow smile came and went in cynical ripplings. + +"It is pretty difficult to say precisely what you are just now. But I +can prophesy what you are going to be if you don't wake up and come +alive." + +Having no reply to this, Adams went back to the matter of night +shifts. + +"If you will authorize it, I'll put a night gang on and boss it +myself. What do you say?" + +"I say you are no end of a good fellow, Morty. And that's the plain +fact. I'll do as much for you some time." + +"I'll be smashed if you will--you'll never get the chance. When I let +a pretty girl make a fool of me--" + +But the door of the dinkey slammed behind the outgoing one, and the +prophet of evil was left to organize his night assault on the +shale-slide, and to command it as best he could. + +So, as we say, the days, days of stubborn toil with the enthusiasm +taken out, slipped away unfruitful. Of the entire Utah force Adams +alone held himself up to the mark, and being only second in command, +he was unable to keep the bad example of the chief from working like +a leaven of inertness among the men. Branagan voiced the situation in +rich brogue one evening when Adams had exhausted his limited +vocabulary of abuse on the force for its apathy. "'Tis no use, ava, +Misther Adams. If you was the boss himself 'twould be you as would put +the comether on thim too quick. But it's 'like masther, like mon.' The +b'ys all know that Misther Winton don't care a damn; and they'll not +be hurtin' thimselves wid the wurrk." + +And the Rajah? Between his times of smoking high-priced cigars with +Winton in the lounging-room of the Rosemary, he was swearing Jubilates +in the privacy of his working-den state-room, having tri-daily weather +reports wired to him by way of Carbonate and Argentine station, and +busying himself in the intervals with sending and receiving sundry +mysterious telegrams in cipher. + +Thus Mr. Somerville Darrah, all going well for him until one fateful +morning when he made the mistake of congratulating his ally. Then--but +we picture the scene: Mr. Darrah late to his breakfast, being just in +from an early-morning reconnaissance of the enemy's advancings; +Virginia sitting opposite to pour his coffee. All the others vanished +to some limbo of their own. + +The Rajah rubbed his hands delightedly. + +"We are coming on famously, famously, my deah Virginia. Two weeks +gone, heavy snows predicted for the mountain region, and nothing, +practically nothing at all, accomplished on the otheh side of the +canyon. When you marry, my deah, you shall have a block of C. G. R. +preferred stock to keep you in pin-money." + +"I?" she queried. "But, Uncle Somerville, I don't understand--" + +The Rajah laughed. + +"That was a very pretty blush, my deah. Bless your innocent soul, if +I were young Misteh Winton, I'm not sure but I should consideh the +game well lost." + +She was gazing at him wide-eyed now, and the blush had left a pallor +behind it. + +"You mean that I--that I--" + +"I mean that you are a helpeh worth having, Miss Carteret. Anotheh +time Misteh Winton won't pay cou't to a cha'ming young girl and try to +build a railroad at one and the same moment, I fancy. Hah!" + +The startled eyes veiled themselves swiftly, and Virginia's voice sank +to its softest cadence. + +"Have I been an accomplice," she began, "in this--this despicable +thing, Uncle Somerville?" + +Mr. Darrah began a little to see his mistake. + +"Ah--an accomplice? Oh, no, my deah Virginia, not quite that. The word +smacks too much of the po-lice cou'ts. Let us say that Misteh Winton +has found your company mo' attractive than that of his laborehs, and +commend his good taste in the matteh." + +So much he said by way of damping down the fire he had so rashly +lighted. Then Jastrow came in with one of the interminable cipher +telegrams and Virginia was left alone. + +For a time she sat at the deserted breakfast-table, dry-eyed, +hot-hearted, thinking such thoughts as would come crowding thickly +upon the heels of such a revelation. Winton would fail: a man with +honor, good repute, his entire career at stake, as he himself had +admitted, would go down to miserable oblivion and defeat, lacking some +friendly hand to smite him alive to a sense of his danger. And, in her +uncle's estimation, at least, she, Virginia Carteret, would figure as +the Delilah triumphant. + +She rose, tingling to her finger-tips with the shame of it, went to +her state-room, and found her writing materials. In such a crisis her +methods could be as direct as a man's. Winton was coming again that +evening. He must be stopped and sent about his business. + +So she wrote him a note, telling him he must not come--a note man-like +in its conciseness, and yet most womanly in its failure to give even +the remotest hint of the new and binding reason why he must not come. +And just before luncheon an obliging Cousin Billy was prevailed upon +to undertake its delivery. + +When he had found Winton at the shale-slide, and had given him Miss +Carteret's mandate, the Reverend Billy did not return directly to the +Rosemary. On the contrary, he extended his tramp westward, stumbling +on aimlessly up the canyon over the unsurfaced embankment of the new +line. + +Truth to tell, Virginia's messenger was not unwilling to spend a +little time alone with the immensities. To put it baldly, he was +beginning to be desperately cloyed with the sweets of a day-long Miss +Bessie, ennuye on the one hand and despondent on the other. + +Why could not the Cousin Bessies see, without being told in so many +words, that the heart of a man may have been given in times long past +to another woman?--to a Cousin Virginia, let us say. And why must the +Cousin Virginias, passing by the lifelong devotion of a kinsman lover, +throw themselves--if one must put it thus brutally--fairly at the head +of an acquaintance of a day? + +So questioning the immensities, the Reverend Billy came out after some +little time in a small upland valley where the two lines, old and new, +ran parallel at the same level, with low embankments less than a +hundred yards apart. + +Midway of the valley the hundred-yard interspace was bridged by a +hastily-constructed spur track starting from a switch on the Colorado +and Grand River main line, and crossing the Utah right of way at a +broad angle. On this spur, at its point of intersection with the new +line, stood a heavy locomotive, steam up, and manned in every inch of +its standing-room by armed guards. + +The situation explained itself, even to a Reverend Billy. The Rajah +had not been idle during the interval of dinner-givings and social +divagations. He had acquired the right of way across the Utah's line +for his blockading spur; had taken advantage of Winton's inalertness +to construct the track; and was now prepared to hold the crossing with +a live engine and such a show of force as might be needful. + +Calvert turned back from the entrance of the valley, and was minded, +in a spirit of fairness, to pass the word concerning the new +obstruction on to the man who was most vitally concerned. But alas! +even a Reverend Billy may not always arise superior to his hamperings +as a man and a lover. Here was defeat possible--nay, say rather defeat +probable--for a rival, with the probability increasing with each hour +of delay. Calvert fought it out by length and by breadth a dozen times +before he came in sight of the track force toiling at the shale-slide. +Should he tell Winton, and so, indirectly, help to frustrate Mr. +Darrah's well-laid plan? Or should he hold his peace and thus, +indirectly again, help to defeat the Utah company? + +He put it that way in decent self-respect. Also he assured himself +that the personal equation as between two lovers of one and the same +woman was entirely eliminated. But who can tell which motive it was +that prompted him to turn aside before he came to the army of toilers +at the slide: to turn and cross the stream and make as wide a detour +as the nature of the ground would permit, passing well beyond call +from the other side of the canyon? + +The detour took him past the slide in silent safety, but it did not +take him immediately back to the Rosemary. Instead of keeping on down +the canyon on the C. G. R. side, he turned up the gulch at the back of +Argentine and spent the better half of the afternoon tramping beneath +the solemn spruces on the mountain. What the hours of solitude brought +him in the way of decision let him declare as he sets his face finally +toward the station and the private car. + +"I can't do it: I can't turn traitor to the kinsman whose bread I eat. +And that is what it would come to in plain English. Beyond that I have +no right to go: it is not for me to pass upon the justice of this +petty war between rival corporations." + +Ah, William Calvert! is there no word then of that other and far +subtler temptation? When you have reached your goal, if reach it you +may, will there be no remorseful looking back to this mile-stone where +a word from you might have taken the fly from your pot of precious +ointment? + +The short winter day was darkening to its close when he returned to +the Rosemary. By dint of judicious manoeuvering, with a too-fond +Bessie for an unconscious confederate, he managed to keep Virginia +from questioning him; this up to a certain moment of climaxes in the +evening. + +But Virginia read momentous things in his face and eyes, and when the +time was fully ripe she cornered him. It was the old story over again, +of a woman's determination to know pitted against a truthful man's +blundering efforts to conceal; and before he knew what he was about +Calvert had betrayed the Rajah's secret--which was also the secret of +the cipher telegrams. + +Miss Carteret said little--said nothing, indeed, that an anxious +kinsman lover could lay hold of. But when the secret was hers she +donned coat and headgear and went out on the square-railed platform, +whither the Reverend Billy dared not follow her. + +But another member of the Rosemary group had more courage---or fewer +scruples. When Miss Carteret let herself out of the rear door, Jastrow +disappeared in the opposite direction, passing through the forward +vestibule and dropping cat-like from the step to inch his way silently +over the treacherous snow-crust to a convenient spying place at the +other end of the car. + +Unfortunately for the spying purpose, the shades were drawn behind the +two great windows and the glass door, but the starlight sufficed to +show the watcher a shadowy Miss Virginia standing motionless on the +side which gave her an outlook down the canyon, leaning out, it might +be, to anticipate the upcoming of some one from the construction camp +below. + +The secretary, shivering in the knife-like wind slipping down from the +bald peaks, had not long to wait. By the time his eyes were fitted to +the darkness he heard a man coming up the track, the snow crunching +frostily under his steady stride. Jastrow ducked under the platform +and gained a viewpoint on the other side of the car. The crunching +footfalls had ceased, and a man was swinging himself up to the forward +step of the Rosemary. At the instant a voice just above the spy's head +called softly, "Mr. Winton!" and the new-comer dropped back into the +snow and came tramping to the rear. + +It was an awkward moment for Jastrow; but he made shift to dodge +again, and so to be out of the way when the engineer drew himself up +and climbed the hand-rail to stand beside his summoner. + +The secretary saw him take her hand and heard her exclamation, half +indignant, wholly reproachful: + +"You had my note: I told you not to come!" + +"So you did, and yet you were expecting me," he asserted. He was still +holding her hand, and she could not--or did not--withdraw it. + +"Was I, indeed!" There was a touch of the old-time raillery in the +words, but it was gone when she added: "Oh, why will you keep on +coming and coming when you know so well what it means to you and your +work?" + +"I think you know the answer to that better than anyone," he rejoined, +his voice matching hers for earnestness. "It is because I love you; +because I could not stay away if I should try. Forgive me, dear; I did +not mean to speak so soon. But you said in your note that you would be +leaving Argentine immediately--that I should not see you again: so I +had to come. Won't you give me a word, Virginia?--a waiting word, if +it must be that?" + +Jastrow held his breath, hope dying within him and sullen ferocity +crouching for the spring if her answer should urge it on. But when she +spoke the secretary's anger cooled and he breathed again. + +"No: a thousand times, no!" she burst out passionately; and Winton +staggered as if the suddenly-freed hand had dealt him a blow. + + + + +X. SPIKED SWITCHES + + +For a little time after Virginia's passionate rejection of him Winton +stood abashed and confounded. Weighed in the balance of the +after-thought, his sudden and unpremeditated declaration could plead +little excuse in encouragement. And yet she had been exceedingly kind +to him. + +"I have no right to expect a better answer," he said finally, when he +could trust himself to speak. "But I am like other men: I should like +to know why." + +"You can ask that?" she retorted. "You say you have no right: what +have you done to expect a better answer?" + +He shrugged. "Nothing, I suppose. But you knew that before." + +"I only know what you have shown me during the past three weeks, and +it has proved that you are what Mr. Adams said you were--though he was +only jesting." + +"And that is?" + +"A _faineant_, a dilettante; a man with all the God-given ability to +do as he will and to succeed, and yet who will not take the trouble to +persevere." + +Winton smiled, a grim little smile. + +"You are not quite like any other woman I have ever known--not like +any other in the world, I believe. Your sisters, most of them, would +take it as the sincerest homage that a man should neglect his work for +his love. Do you care so much for success, then?" + +"For the thing itself--nothing, less than nothing. But--but one may +care a little for the man who wins or loses." + +He tried to take her hand again, tried and failed. + +"Virginia!--is that my word of hope?" + +"No. Will you never see the commonplace effrontery of it, Mr. Winton? +Day after day you have come here, idling away the precious hours that +meant everything to you, and now you come once again to offer me a +share in what you have lost. Is that your idea of chivalry, of true +manhood?" + +Again the grim smile came and went. + +"An unprejudiced onlooker might say that you have made me very +welcome." + +"Mr. Winton! Is that generous?" + +"No; perhaps it is hardly just. Because I counted the cost and have +paid the price open-eyed. You may remember that I told you that first +evening I should come as often as I dared. I knew then, what I have +known all along: that it was a part of your uncle's plan to delay my +work." + +"His and mine, you mean; only you are too kind--or not quite brave +enough--to say so." + +"Yours? Never! If I could believe you capable of such a thing--" + +"You may believe it," she broke in. "It was I who suggested it." + +He drew a deep breath, and she heard his teeth come together with a +click. It was enough to try the faith of the loyalest lover: it tried +his sorely. Yet he scarcely needed her low-voiced, "Don't you despise +me as I deserve, now?" to make him love her all the more. + +"Indeed, I don't. Resentment and love can hardly find room in the same +heart at the same time, and I have said that I love you," he rejoined +quickly. + +She went silent at that, and when she spoke again the listening +Jastrow tuned his ear afresh to lose no word. + +"As I have confessed, I suggested it: it was just after I had seen +your men and the sheriff's ready to fly at one another's throats. I +was miserably afraid, and I asked Uncle Somerville if he could not +make terms with you in some other way. I didn't mean--" + +He made haste to help her. + +"Please don't try to defend your motive to me; it is wholly +unnecessary. It is more than enough for me to know that you were +anxious about my safety." + +But she would not let him have the crumb of comfort undisputed. + +"There were other lives involved besides yours. I didn't say I was +specially afraid for you, did I?" + +"No, but you meant it. And I thought afterward that I should have +given you a hint in some way, though the way didn't offer at the time. +There was no danger of bloodshed. I knew--we all knew--that Deckert +wouldn't go to extremities with the small force he had." + +"Then it was only a--a--" + +"A bluff," he said, supplying the word. "If I had believed there was +the slightest possibility of a fight, I should have made my men take +to the woods rather than let you witness it." + +"You shouldn't have let me waste my sympathy," she protested +reproachfully. + +"I'm sorry; truly, I am. And you have been wasting it in another +direction as well. To-night will see the shale-slide conquered +definitely, I hope, and three more days of good weather will send us +into the Carbonate yards." + +She broke in upon him with a little cry of impatient despair. + +"That shows how unwary you have been! Tell me: is there not a little +valley just above here--an open place where your railroad and Uncle +Somerville's run side by side?" + +"Yes, it is a mile this side of the canyon head. What about it?" + +"How long is it since you have been up there?" she queried. + +Winton stopped to think. "I don't know--a week, possibly." + +"Yet if you had not been coming here every evening, you or Mr. Adams +would have found time to go--to watch every possible chance of +interference, wouldn't you?" + +"Perhaps. That was one of the risks I took, a part of the price-paying +I spoke of. If anything had happened, I should still be unrepentant." + +"Something _has_ happened. While you have been taking things for +granted, Uncle Somerville has been at work day and night. He has built +a track right across yours in that little valley, and he keeps a train +of cars or something, filled with armed men, standing there all the +time!" + +Winton gave a low whistle. Then he laughed mirthlessly. + +"You are quite sure of this?" he asked. "There is no possibility of +your being mistaken?" + +"None at all," she replied. "And I can only defend myself by saying +that I didn't know about it until a few minutes ago. What is to be +done? But stop; you needn't tell me. I am not worthy of your +confidence." + +"You are; you have just proved it. But there isn't anything to be +done. The next thing in order is the exit of one John Winton in +disgrace. That spur track and engine means a crossing fight which can +be prolonged indefinitely, with due vigilance on the part of Mr. +Darrah's mercenaries. I'm smashed, Miss Carteret, thoroughly and +permanently. Ah, well, it's only one more fool for love. Hadn't we +better go in? You'll take cold standing out here." + +She drew herself up and put her hands behind her. + +"Is that the way you take it, Mr. Winton?" + +The acrid laugh came again. + +"Would you have me tear a passion to tatters? My ancestors were not +French." + +Trying as the moment was, she could not miss her opportunity. + +"How can you tell when you don't know your grandfather's middle name?" +she said, half crying. + +His laugh at this was less acrid. "Adams again? My grandfather had no +middle name. But I mustn't keep you out here in the cold talking +genealogies." + +His hand was on the door to open it for her. Like a flash she came +between, and her fingers closed over his on the door-knob. + +"Wait," she said. "Have I done all this--humbled myself into the very +dust--to no purpose?" + +"Not if you will give me the one priceless word I am thirsting for." + +"Oh, how shameless you are!" she cried. "Will nothing serve to arouse +the better part of you?" + +"There is no better part of any man than his love for a woman. You +have aroused that." + +"_Then prove it by going and building your railroad_, Mr. Winton. When +you have done that--" + +He caught at the word as a drowning man catches at a straw. + +"When I have won the fight--Virginia, let me see your eyes--when I +have won, I may come back to you?" + +"I didn't say anything of the kind! But I will say what I said to Mr. +Adams. I like men who _do_ things. Good night." And before he could +reply she had made him open the door for her, and he was left alone on +the square-railed platform. + +In the gathering-room of the private car Virginia found an atmosphere +surcharged with electrical possibilities, felt it and inhaled it, +though there was nothing visible to indicate it. The Rajah was buried +in the depths of his particular easy-chair, puffing his cigar; Bessie +had the Reverend Billy in the tete-a-tete contrivance; and Mrs. +Carteret was reading under the Pintsch drop-light at the table. + +It was the chaperon who applied the firing spark to the electrical +possibilities. + +"Didn't I hear you talking to some one out on the platform, Virginia?" +she asked. + +"Yes, it was Mr. Winton. He came to make his excuses." + +Mr. Somerville Darrah awoke out of his tobacco reverie with a start. + +"Hah!" he said fiercely. Then, in his most courteous phrase: "Did I +undehstand you to say that Misteh Winton would not faveh us to-night, +my deah Virginia?" + +"He could not. He has come upon--upon some other difficulty, I +believe," she stammered, steering a perilous course among the rocks of +equivocation. + +"Mmph!" said the Rajah, rising. "Ah--where is Jastrow?" + +The obsequious one appeared, imp-like, at the mention of his name, and +received a curt order. + +"Go and find Engineer McGrath and his fireman. Tell him I want the +engine instantly. Move, seh!" + +Virginia retreated to her state-room. In a few minutes she heard her +uncle go out; and shortly afterward the Rosemary's engine shook itself +free of the car and rumbled away westward. At that, Virginia went back +to the others and found a book. But if waiting inactive were +difficult, reading was blankly impossible. + +"Goodness!" she exclaimed impatiently at last. "How hot you people +keep it in here! Cousin Billy, won't you take a turn with me on the +station platform? I can't breathe!" + +Calvert acquiesced eagerly, scenting an opportunity. But when they +were out under the frosty stars he had the good sense to walk her up +and down in the healing silence and darkness for five full minutes +before he ventured to say what was in his mind. + +When he spoke it was earnestly and to the purpose, not without +eloquence. He loved her; had always loved her, he thought. Could she +not, with time and the will to try, learn to love him?--not as a +cousin? + +She turned quickly and put both hands on his shoulders. + +"Oh, Cousin Billy--_don't_!" she faltered brokenly; and he, seeing at +once that he had played the housebreaker where he would fain have been +the welcome guest, took his punishment manfully, drawing her arm in +his and walking her yet other turns up and down the long platform +until his patience and the silence had wrought their perfect work. + +"Does it hurt much?" she asked softly, after a long time. + +"You would have to change places with me to know just how much it +hurts," he answered. "And yet you haven't left me quite desolate, +Virginia. I still have something left--all I've ever had, I fancy." + +"And that is--" + +"My love for you, you know. It isn't at all contingent upon your yes +or no; or upon possession--it never has been, I think. It has never +asked much except the right to be." + +She was silent for a moment. Then she said: "Cousin Billy, I do +believe that you are the best man that ever lived. And I am +ashamed--ashamed!" + +"What for?" + +"If I have spoiled you, ever so little, for some truer, worthier +woman." + +"You haven't," he responded; "you mustn't take that view of it. I am +decently in love with my work--a work that not a few wise men have +agreed could best be done alone. I don't think there will be any other +woman. You see, there is only one Virginia. Shall we go in now?" + +She nodded, but when they reached the Rosemary the returning engine +was rattling down upon the open siding. Virginia drew back. + +"I don't want to meet Uncle Somerville just now," she confessed. +"Can't we climb up to the observation platform at the other end of the +car?" + +He said yes, and made the affirmative good by lifting her in his arms +over the high railing. Once safely on the car, she bade him leave her. + +"Slip in quietly and they won't notice," she said. "I'll come +presently." + +Calvert obeyed, and Virginia stood alone in the darkness. Down in the +Utah construction camp lights were darting to and fro; and before long +she heard the hoarse puffs of the big octopod, betokening activities. + +She was shivering a little in the chill wind sliding down from the +snow-peaks, yet she would not go in until she had made sure. In a +little time her patience was rewarded. The huge engine came storming +up the grade on the new line, pushing its three flat-cars, which were +black with clinging men. On the car nearest the locomotive, where the +dazzling beam of the headlight pricked him out for her, stood Winton, +braced against the lurchings of the train over the uneven track. + +"God speed you, my--love!" she murmured softly; and when the gloom of +the upper canyon cleft had engulfed man and men and storming engine +she turned to go in. + +She was groping for the door-knob in the darkness made thicker by the +glare of the passing headlight when a voice, disembodied for the +moment, said: "Wait a minute, Miss Carteret; I'd like to have a word +with you." + +She drew back quickly. + +"Is it you, Mr. Jastrow? Let me go in, please." + +"In one moment. I have something to say to you--something you ought to +hear." + +"Can't it be said on the other side of the door? I am cold--very cold, +Mr. Jastrow." + +It was his saving hint, but he would not take it. + +"No, it must be said to you alone. We have at least one thing in +common, Miss Carteret--you and I: that is a proper appreciation of the +successful realities. I--" + +She stopped him with a quick little gesture of impatience. + +"Will you be good enough to stand aside and let me go in?" + +The keen breath of the snow-caps was summer-warm in comparison with +the chilling iciness of her manner; but the secretary went on unmoved: + +"Success is the only thing worth while in this world. Winton will +fail, but I shan't. And when I do succeed, I shall marry a woman who +can wear the purple most becomingly." + +"I hope you may, I'm sure," she answered wearily. "Yet you will excuse +me if I say that I don't understand how it concerns me, or why you +should keep me out here in the cold to tell me about it." + +"Don't you? It concerns you very nearly. You are the woman, Miss +Carteret." + +"Indeed? And if I decline the honor?" + +The contingency was one for which the suitor seemed not entirely +prepared. Yet he evinced a willingness to meet the hypothesis in a +spirit of perfect candor. + +"You wouldn't do that, definitely, I fancy. It would be tantamount to +driving me to extremities." + +"If you will tell me how I can do it 'definitely,' I shall be most +happy to drive you to extremities, or anywhere else out of my way," +she said frigidly. + +"Oh, I think not," he rejoined. "You wouldn't want me to go and tell +Mr. Darrah how you have betrayed him to Mr. Winton. I had the singular +good fortune to overhear you conversation--yours and Mr. Winton's, you +know; and if Mr. Darrah knew, he would cut you out of his will with +very little compunction, don't you think? And, really, you mustn't +throw yourself away on that sentimental Tommy of an engineer, Miss +Virginia. He'll never be able to give you the position you're fitted +for." + +Since French was a dead language to Mr. Arthur Jastrow, he never knew +what it was that Miss Carteret named him. But she left him in no doubt +as to her immediate purpose. + +"If that be the case, we would better go and find my uncle at once," +she said in her softest tone; and before he could object she had led +the way to the Rajah's working-den state-room. + +Mr. Darrah was deep in one of the cipher telegrams when they entered, +and he looked up to glare fiercely at one and then the other of the +intruders. Virginia gave her persecutor no time to lodge his +accusation. + +"Uncle Somerville, Mr. Winton was here an hour ago, as you know, and I +told him what you had done--what I had helped you do. Also, I sent him +about his business; which is to win his railroad fight if he can. Mr. +Jastrow overheard the conversation, purposely, and as he threatens to +turn informer, I am saving him the trouble. Perhaps I ought to add that +he offered to hold his peace if I would promise to marry him." + +What the unlucky Jastrow might have said in his own behalf is not to +be here set down in peaceful black and white. With the final word of +Virginia's explanation the fierce old master of men was up and +clutching for the secretary's throat, and the working complement of +the Rosemary suffered instant loss. + +"You'll spy upon a membeh of my family, will you, seh!" he stormed. +"Out with you, bag and baggage, befo' I lose my tempeh and forget what +is due to this young lady you have insulted, seh, with your infamous +proposals! Faveh me instantly, while you have a leg to run with! Go!" + +Jastrow disappeared; and when the door closed behind him Virginia +faced her irate clan-chief bravely. + +"He was a spy, and he would have been a traitor. But I am little +better. What will you do to me?" + +The Rajah's wrath evaporated quickly, and a shrewd smile, not +unkindly, wrinkled the ruddy old face. + +"So it was a case of the trappeh trapped, was it, my deah? I'm +sorry--right sorry. I might have known how it would be; a youngeh man +would have known. But you have done no unpahdonable mischief: Misteh +Winton would have found out for himself in a few hours, and we are +ready for him now." + +"Oh, dear! Then he will be beaten?" + +"Unquestionably. Faveh me by going to bed, my deah. Your roses will +suffeh sadly for all this excitement, I feah. Good night." + + + + +XI. THE RIGHT OF WAY + + +It seemed to Virginia that she had but just fallen asleep when she was +rudely awakened by the jar and grind of the Rosemary's wheels on +snow-covered rails. Drawing the curtain, she found that a new day was +come, gray and misty white in the gusty swirl of a mountain +snow-squall. + +Without disturbing the sleeping Bessie, she dressed quickly and +slipped out to see what the early-morning change of base portended. +The common room was empty when she entered it, but before she could +cross to the door the Reverend Billy came in, stamping the snow from +his feet. + +"What is it?" she asked eagerly. "Are we off for California?" + +"No, it's some more of the war. Winton has outgeneraled us. During the +night he pushed his track up to the disputed crossing, 'rushed' the +guarded engine, and ditched it." + +Virginia felt that she ought to be decorously sorry for relationship's +sake, but the effort ended in a little paean of joy. + +"But Uncle Somerville--what will he do?" + +"He is with McGrath on the engine, getting himself--and us--to the +front in a hurry, as you perceive." + +"Isn't it too late to stop Mr. Winton now?" + +"I don't know. From what I could overhear I gathered that the ditched +engine is still in the way; that they are trying to roll it over into +the creek. Bless me! McGrath is getting terribly reckless!"--this as a +spiteful lurch of the car flung them both across the compartment. + +"Say Uncle Somerville," she amended. "Don't charge it to Mr. McGrath. +Can't we go out on the platform?" + +"It's as much as your life is worth," he asserted, but he opened the +door for her. + +The car was backing swiftly up the grade with the engine behind +serving as a "pusher." At first the fiercely-driven snow-whirl made +Virginia gasp. Then the speed slackened and she could breathe and see. + +The shrilling wheels were tracking around a curve into a scanty +widening of the canyon. To the left, on the rails of the new line, the +big octopod was heaving and grunting in the midst of an army of +workmen swarming thick upon the overturned guard engine. + +"Goodness! it's like a battle!" she shuddered. As she spoke the +Rosemary stopped with a jerk and McGrath's fireman darted past to set +the spur-track switch. + +The points were snow-clogged, and the fireman wrestled with the lever, +saying words. The delay was measurable in heart-beats, but it +sufficed. The big octopod coughed thrice like a mighty giant in a +consumption; the clustering workmen scattered like chaff to a ringing +shout of "Stand clear!" and the obstructing mass of iron and steel +rolled, wallowing and hissing, into the stream. + +"Rails to the front! Hammermen!" yelled Winton; and the scattered +force rallied instantly. + +But now the wrestling fireman had thrown the switch, and at the +Rajah's command the Rosemary shot out on the spur to be thrust with +locked brakes fairly into the breach left defenseless by the ditched +engine. With a mob-roar of wrath the infuriated track-layers made a +rush for the new obstruction. But Winton was before them. + +"Hold on!" he shouted, bearing them back with outflung arms. "Hold on, +men, for God's sake! There are women in that car!" + +The wrathful wave broke and eddied murmurous while a square-shouldered +old man with fierce eyes and huge white mustaches, and with an extinct +cigar between his teeth, clambered down from the Rosemary's engine to +say: + +"Hah! a ratheh close connection, eh, Misteh Winton? Faveh me with a +match, if you please, seh. May I assume that you won't tumble my +private car into the ditch?" + +Winton was white-hot, but he found a light for the Rajah's cigar, +easing his mind only as he might with Virginia looking on. + +"I shall be more considerate of the safety of the ladies than you seem +to be, Mr. Darrah," he retorted. "You are taking long chances in this +game, sir." + +The Rajah's laugh rumbled deep in his chest. "Not so vehy much longer +than you have been taking during the past fo'tnight, my deah seh. But +neveh mind; all's fair in love or war, and we appeah to be having a +little of both now up heah in Qua'tz Creek, hah?" + +Winton flushed angrily. It was no light thing to be mocked before his +men, to say nothing of Miss Carteret standing within arm's reach on +the railed platform of the Rosemary. + +"Perhaps I shall give you back that word before we are through, Mr. +Darrah," he snapped. Then to the eddying mob-wave: "Tools up, boys. We +camp here for breakfast. Branagan, send the Two-fifteen down for the +cook's outfit." + +The Rajah dropped his cigar butt in the snow and trod upon it. + +"Possibly you will faveh us with your company to breakfast in the +Rosemary, Misteh Winton--you and Misteh Adams. No? Then I bid you a +vehy good morning, gentlemen, and hope to see you lateh." And he swung +up to the steps of the private car. + +Half an hour afterward, the snow still whirling dismally, Winton and +Adams were cowering over a handful of hissing embers, drinking their +commissary coffee and munching the camp cook's poor excuse for a +breakfast. + +"Jig's up pretty definitely, don't you think?" said Adams, with a +glance around at the idle track force huddling for shelter under the +lee of the flats and the octopod. + +Winton shook his head and groaned. "I'm a ruined man, Morty." + +Adams found his cigarette case. + +"I guess that's so," he said quite heartlessly. Then: "Hello! what is +our friend the enemy up to now?" + +McGrath's fireman was uncoupling the engine from the Rosemary, and Mr. +Somerville Darrah, complacently lighting his after breakfast cigar, +came across to the hissing ember fire. + +"A word with you, gentlemen, if you will faveh me," he began. "I am +about to run down to Argentine on my engine, and I propose leaving the +ladies in your cha'ge, Misteh Winton. Will you give me your word of +honeh, seh, that they will not be annoyed in my absence?" + +Winton sprang up, losing his temper again. + +"It's--well, it's blessed lucky that you know your man, Mr. Darrah!" +he exploded. "Go on about your business--which is to bring another +army of deputy-sheriffs down on us, I take it. You know well enough +that no man of mine will lay a hand on your car so long as the ladies +are in it." + +The Rajah thanked him, dismissed the matter with a Chesterfieldian +wave of his hand, climbed to his place in the cab, and the engine +shrilled away around the curve and disappeared in the snow-wreaths. + +Adams rose and stretched himself. + +"By Jove! when it comes to cheek, pure and unadulterated, commend me +to a Virginia gentleman who has acquired the proper modicum of Western +bluff," he laughed. Then, with a cavernous yawn dating back to the +sleepless night: "Since there is nothing immediately pressing, I +believe I'll go and call on the ladies. Won't you come along for a +while?" + +"No!" said Winton savagely; and the assistant lounged off by himself. + +Some little time afterward Winton, glooming over his handful of +spitting embers, saw Adams and Virginia come out to stand together on +the observation platform of the Rosemary. They talked long and +earnestly, and when Winton was beginning to add the dull pang of +unreasoning jealousy to his other hurtings, Adams beckoned him. He +went, not unwillingly, or altogether willingly. + +"I should think you might come and say 'Good morning' to me, Mr. +Winton. I'm not Uncle Somerville," said Miss Carteret. + +Winton said "Good morning," not too graciously, and Adams mocked him. + +"Besides being a bear with a sore head, Miss Carteret thinks you're +not much of a hustler, Jack," he said coolly. "She knows the +situation; knows that you were stupid enough to promise not to lay +hands on the car when we could have pushed it out of the way without +annoying anybody. None the less, she thinks that you might find a way +to go on building your railroad without breaking your word to Mr. +Darrah." + +Winton put his sore-heartedness far enough behind him to smile and +say: "Perhaps Miss Virginia will be good enough to tell me how." + +"I don't know how," she rejoined quickly. "And you'd only laugh at me +if I should tell you what I thought of." + +"You might try it and see," he ventured. "I'm desperate enough to take +suggestions from anyone." + +"Tell me something first: is your railroad obliged to run straight +along in the middle of this nice little ridge you've been making for +it?" + +"Why--no; temporarily, it can run anywhere. But the problem is to get +the track laid beyond this crossing before your uncle gets back with a +trainload of armed guards." + +"Any kind of track would do, wouldn't it?--just to secure the +crossing?" + +"Certainly; anything that would hold the weight of the octopod. We +shall have to rebuild most of the line, anyway, as soon as the frost +comes out of the ground in the spring." + +The brown eyes became far-seeing. + +"I was thinking," she said musingly. "There is no time to make another +nice little ridge. But you have piles and piles of logs over +there,"--she meant the cross-ties,--"couldn't you build a sort of +cobhouse ridge with those between your track and Uncle's, and cross +behind the car? Don't laugh, please." + +But Winton was far enough from laughing at her. Why so simple an +expedient had not suggested itself instantly he did not stop to +inquire. It was enough that the Heaven-born idea had been given. + +"Down out of that, Morty!" he cried. "It's one chance in a thousand. +Pass the word to the men; I'll be with you in a second." And when +Adams was rousing the track force with the bawling shout of +"_Ev-erybody_!" Winton looked up into the brown eyes. + +"My debt to you was already very great: I owe you more now," he said. + +But she gave him his quittance in a whiplike retort. + +"And you will stand here talking about it when every moment is +precious? Go!" she commanded; and he went. + +So now we are to conceive the maddest activity leaping into being in +full view of the watchers at the windows of the private car. Winton's +chilled and sodden army, welcoming any battle-cry of action, flew to +the work with a will. In a twinkling the corded piles of cross-ties +had melted to reappear in cobhouse balks bridging an angle from the +Utah embankment to that of the spur track in the rear of the +blockading Rosemary. In briefest time the hammermen were spiking the +rails on the rough-and-ready trestle, and the Italians were bringing +up the crossing-frogs. + +But the Rajah, astute colonel of industry, had not left himself +defenseless. On the contrary, he had provided for this precise +contingency by leaving McGrath's fireman in mechanical command on the +Rosemary. If Winton should attempt to build around the private car, +the fireman was to wait till the critical moment: then he was to +lessen the pressure on the automatic air-brakes and let the car drop +back down the grade just far enough to block the new crossing. + +So it came about that this mechanical lieutenant waited, laughing in +his sleeve, until he saw the Italians coming with the crossing-frogs. +Then, judging the time to be fully ripe, he ducked under the Rosemary +to "bleed" the air-brake. + +Winton heard the hiss of the escaping air above all the industry +clamor; heard, and saw the car start backward. Then he had a flitting +glimpse of a man in grimy overclothes scrambling terror-frenzied from +beneath the Rosemary. The thing done had been overdone. The fireman +had "bled" the air-brake too freely, and the liberated car, gathering +momentum with every wheel-turn, surged around the circling spur track +and shot out masterless on the steeper gradient of the main line. + +Now, for the occupants of a runaway car on a Rocky Mountain canyon +line there is death and naught else. Winton saw, in a phantasmagoric +flash of second sight, the meteor flight of the heavy car; saw the +Reverend Billy's ineffectual efforts to apply the hand-brakes, if by +good hap he should even guess that there were any hand-brakes; saw the +car, bounding and lurching, keeping to the rails, mayhap, for some few +miles below Argentine, where it would crash headlong into the upward +climbing Carbonate train, and all would end. + +In unreasoning misery, he did the only thing that offered: ran blindly +down his own embankment, hoping nothing but that he might have one +last glimpse of Virginia clinging to the hand-rail before she should +be lost to him for ever. + +But as he ran a thought white-hot from the furnace of despair fell +into his brain to set it ablaze with purpose. Beyond the litter of +activities the octopod was standing, empty of its crew. Bounding up +into the cab, he released the brake and sent the great engine flying +down the track of the new line. + +In the measuring of the first mile the despair-born thought took shape +and form. If he could outpace the runaway on the parallel line, stop +the octopod and dash across to the C. G. R. track ahead of the +Rosemary, there was one chance in a million that he might fling +himself upon the car in mid flight and alight with life enough left to +help Calvert with the hand-brakes. + +Now, in the most unhopeful struggle it is often the thing least hoped +for that comes to pass. At Argentine, Winton's speed was a mile a +minute over a track rougher than a corduroy wagon-road; yet the +octopod held the rail and was neck and neck with the runaway. Whisking +past the station, Winton had a glimpse of a white-mustached old man +standing bareheaded on the platform and gazing horror-stricken at the +tableau; then man and station and lurching car were left behind, and +the fierce strife to gain the needed mile of lead went on. + +Three miles more of the surging, racking, nerve-killing race and +Winton had his hand's-breadth of lead and had picked his place for the +million-chanced wrestle with death. It was at the C. G. R. station of +Tierra Blanca, just below a series of sharp curves which he hoped +might check a little the arrow-like flight of the runaway. + +Twenty seconds later the telegraph operator at the lonely little way +station of Tierra Blanca saw a heroic bit of man-play. The +upward-bound Carbonate train was whistling in the gorge below when out +of the snow-wreaths shrouding the new line a big engine shot down to +stop with fire grinding from the wheels, and a man dropped from the +high cab to dash across to the station platform. + +At the same instant a runaway passenger car thundered out of the +canyon above. The man crouched, flung himself at it in passing, missed +the forward hand-rail, caught the rear, was snatched from his feet and +trailed through the air like the thong of a whip-lash, yet made good +his hold and clambered on. + +This was all the operator saw, but when he had snapped his key and run +out he heard the shrill squeal of the brakes on the car and knew that +the man had not risked his life for nothing. + +And on board the Rosemary? Winton, spent to the last breath, was lying +prone on the railed platform, where he had fallen when the last twist +had been given to the shrieking brakes. + +"Run, Calvert! Run ahead and--stop--the--up-train!" he gasped; then +the light went out of the gray eyes and Virginia wept unaffectedly and +fell to dabbling his forehead with handfuls of snow. + +"Help me get him in to the divan, Cousin Billy," said Virginia, when +all was over and the Rosemary was safely coupled in ahead of the +upcoming train to be slowly pushed back to Argentine. + +But Winton opened his eyes and struggled to his feet unaided. + +"Not yet," he said. "I've left my automobile on the other side of the +creek; and besides, I have a railroad to build. My respects to Mr. +Darrah, and you may tell him I'm not beaten yet." And he swung over +the railing and dropped off to mount the octopod and to race it back +to the front. + + * * * * * + +Three days afterward, to a screaming of smelter whistles and other +noisy demonstrations of mining-camp joy, the Utah Short Line laid the +final rail of its new Extension in the Carbonate yards. + +The driving of the silver spike accomplished, Winton and Adams slipped +out of the congratulatory throng and made their way across the +C. G. R. tracks to a private car standing along the siding. Its railed +platform, commanding a view of the civic celebration, had its quota of +onlookers--a fierce-eyed old man with huge mustaches, an athletic +young clergyman, two Bisques, and a goddess. + +"Climb up, Misteh Winton, and you, Misteh Adams; climb up and join +us," said the fierce-eyed one heartily. "Virginia, heah, thinks we +ought to call one anotheh out, but I tell her--" + +What the Rajah had told his niece is of small account to us. But what +Winton whispered in her ear when he had taken his place beside her is +more to the purpose of this history. + +"I have built my railroad, as you told me to, and now I have come for +my--" + +"Hush!" she said softly. "Can't you wait?" + +"No." + +"Shameless one!" she murmured. + +But when the Rajah proposed an adjournment to the gathering-room of +the car, and to luncheon therein, he surprised them standing +hand-in-hand and laughed. + +"Hah, you little rebel!" he said. "Do you think you dese've that block +of stock I promised you when you should marry? Anseh me, my deah." + +She blushed and shook her head, but the brown eyes were dancing. + +The Rajah opened the car door with his courtliest bow. + +"Nevertheless, you shall have it, my deah Virginia, if only to remind +an old man of the time when he was simple enough to make a business +confederate of a cha'ming young woman. Straight on, Misteh Adams; +afteh you, Misteh Winton." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Fool For Love, by Francis Lynde + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FOOL FOR LOVE *** + +***** This file should be named 8073.txt or 8073.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/0/7/8073/ + +Produced by Ketaki Chhabra and Wendy Crockett + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Fool For Love + +Author: Francis Lynde + +Release Date: July 28, 2009 [EBook #8073] +Last Updated: March 16, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FOOL FOR LOVE *** + + + + +Produced by Ketaki Chhabra, Wendy Crockett, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + A FOOL FOR LOVE + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Francis Lynde + </h2> + <h4> + Author of “The Grafters,” “The Master of Appleby,” etc. + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> I. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH WE TAKE PASSAGE ON THE LIMITED + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> II. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH AN ENGINE IS SWITCHED + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> III. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN WHICH AN ITINERARY IS CHANGED + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> IV. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE CRYSTALLINE ALTITUDES + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> V. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE LANDSLIDE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> VI. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE RAJAH GIVES AN ORDER + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VII. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE MAJESTY OF THE LAW + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VIII. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE GREEKS BRINGING GIFTS + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> IX. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE BLOCK SIGNAL + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> X. </a> + </td> + <td> + SPIKED SWITCHES + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> XI. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE RIGHT OF WAY + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + I. IN WHICH WE TAKE PASSAGE ON THE LIMITED + </h2> + <p> + It was a December morning,—the Missouri December of mild + temperatures and saturated skies,—and the Chicago and Alton's fast + train, dripping from the rush through the wet night, had steamed briskly + to its terminal track in the Union Station at Kansas City. + </p> + <p> + Two men, one smoking a short pipe and the other snapping the ash from a + scented cigarette, stood aloof from the hurrying throngs on the platform, + looking on with the measured interest of those who are in a melee but not + of it. + </p> + <p> + “More delay,” said the cigarettist, glancing at his watch. “We are over an + hour late now. Do we get any of it back on the run to Denver?” + </p> + <p> + The pipe-smoker shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Hardly, I should say. The Limited is a pretty heavy train to pick up lost + time. But it won't make any particular difference. The western connections + all wait for the Limited, and we shall reach the seat of war to-morrow + night, according to the Boston itinerary.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Morton P. Adams flung away the unburned half of his cigarette and + masked a yawn behind his hand. + </p> + <p> + “It's no end of a bore, Winton, and that is the plain, unlacquered fact,” + he protested. “I think the governor owes me something. I worried through + the Tech because he insisted that I should have a profession; and now I am + going in for field work with you in a howling winter wilderness because he + insists on a practical demonstration. I shall ossify out there in those + mountains. It's written in the book.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! it's too bad about you,” said the other ironically. He was a fit + figure of a man, clean-cut and vigorous, from the steadfast outlook of the + gray eyes and the firm, smooth-shaven jaw to the square fingertips of the + strong hands, and his smile was of good-natured contempt. “As you say, it + is an outrage on filial complaisance. All the same, with the right-of-way + fight in prospect, Quartz Creek Canyon may not prove to be such a valley + of dry bones as—Look out, there!” + </p> + <p> + The shifting-engine had cut a car from the rear of the lately-arrived + Alton, and was sending it down the outbound track to a coupling with the + Transcontinental Limited. Adams stepped back and let it miss him by a + hand's-breadth, and as the car was passing, Winton read the name on the + paneling. + </p> + <p> + “The Rosemary: somebody's twenty-ton private outfit. That cooks our last + chance of making up any lost time between this and tomorrow—” + </p> + <p> + He broke off abruptly. On the square rear observation platform of the + private car were three ladies. One of them was small and blue-eyed, with + wavy little puffs of snowy hair peeping out under her dainty widow's cap. + Another was small and blue-eyed, with wavy masses of flaxen hair caught up + from a face which might have served as a model for the most exquisite + bisque figure that ever came out of France. But Winton saw only the third. + </p> + <p> + She was taller than either of her companions—tall and straight and + lithe; a charming embodiment of health and strength and beauty: + clear-skinned, brown-eyed—a very goddess fresh from the bath, in + Winton's instant summing up of her, and her crown of red-gold hair helped + out the simile. + </p> + <p> + Now, thus far in his thirty-year pilgrimage John Winton, man and boy, had + lived the intense life of a working hermit, so far as the social gods and + goddesses were concerned. Yet he had a pang—of disappointment or + pointless jealousy, or something akin to both—when Adams lifted his + hat to this particular goddess, was rewarded by a little cry of + recognition, and stepped up to the platform to be presented to the elder + and younger Bisques. + </p> + <p> + So, as we say, Winton turned and walked away as one left out, feeling one + moment as though he had been defrauded of a natural right, and deriding + himself the next, as a sensible man should. After a bit he was able to + laugh at the “sudden attack,” as he phrased it, but later, when he and + Adams were settled for the day-long run in the Denver sleeper, and the + Limited was clanking out over the switches, he brought the talk around + with a carefully assumed air of lack-interest to the party in the private + car. + </p> + <p> + “She is a friend of yours, then?” he said, when Adams had taken the baited + hook open-eyed. + </p> + <p> + The Technologian modified the assumption. + </p> + <p> + “Not quite in your sense of the word, I fancy. I met her a number of times + at the houses of mutual friends in Boston. She was studying at the + Conservatory.” + </p> + <p> + “But she isn't a Bostonian,” said Winton confidently. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Virginia?—hardly. She is a Carteret of the Carterets; + Virginia-born-bred-and-named. Stunning girl, isn't she?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Winton shortly, resenting the slang for no reason that he could + have set forth in words. + </p> + <p> + Adams lighted another of the scented villainies, and his clean-shaven face + wrinkled itself in a slow smile. + </p> + <p> + “Which means that she has winged you at sight, I suppose, as she does most + men.” Then he added calmly, “It's no go.” + </p> + <p> + “What is 'no go'?” + </p> + <p> + Adams laughed unfeelingly, and puffed away at his cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “You remind me of the fable about the head-hiding ostrich. Didn't I see + you staring at her as if you were about to have a fit? But it is just as I + tell you: it's no go. She isn't the marrying kind. If you knew her, she'd + be nice to you till she got a good chance to flay you alive—” + </p> + <p> + “Break it off!” growled Winton. + </p> + <p> + “Presently. As I was saying, she would miss the chance of marrying the + best man in the world for the sake of taking a rise out of him. Moreover, + she comes of old Cavalier stock with an English earldom at the back of it, + and she is inordinately proud of the fact; while you—er—you've + given me to understand that you are a man of the people, haven't you?” + </p> + <p> + Winton nodded absently. It was one of his minor fads to ignore his + lineage, which ran decently back to a Colonial governor on his father's + side, and to assert that he did not know his grandfather's middle name—which + was accounted for by the very simple fact that the elder Winton had no + middle name. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that settles it definitely,” was the Bostonian's comment. “Miss + Carteret is of the <i>sang azur</i>. The man who marries her will have to + know his grandfather's middle name—and a good bit more besides.” + </p> + <p> + Winton's laugh was mockingly good-natured. + </p> + <p> + “You have missed your calling by something more than a hair's-breadth, + Morty. You should have been a novelist. Give you a spike and a cross-tie + and you'd infer a whole railroad. But you pique my curiosity. Where are + these American royalties of yours going in the Rosemary?” + </p> + <p> + “To California. The car belongs to Mr. Somerville Darrah, who is + vice-president and manager in fact of the Colorado and Grand River road: + the 'Rajah,' they call him. He is a relative of the Carterets, and the + party is on its way to spend the winter on the Pacific coast.” + </p> + <p> + “And the little lady in the widow's cap: is she Miss Carteret's mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Bessie Carteret's mother and Miss Virginia's aunt. She is the + chaperon of the party.” + </p> + <p> + Winton was silent while the Limited was roaring through a village on the + Kansas side of the river. When he spoke again it was not of the Carterets; + it was of the Carterets' kinsman and host. + </p> + <p> + “I have heard somewhat of the Rajah,” he said half-musingly. “In fact, I + know him, by sight. He is what the magazinists are fond of calling an + 'industry colonel,' a born leader who has fought his way to the front. If + the Quartz Creek row is anything more than a stiff bluff on the part of + the C. G. R. it will be quite as well for us if Mr. Somerville Darrah is + safely at the other side of the continent—and well out of ordinary + reach of the wires.” + </p> + <p> + Adams came to attention with a half-hearted attempt to galvanize an + interest in the business affair. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me more about this mysterious jangle we are heading for,” he + rejoined. “Have I enlisted for a soldier when I thought I was only going + into peaceful exile as assistant engineer of construction on the Utah + Short Line?” + </p> + <p> + “That remains to be seen.” Winton took a leaf from his pocket memorandum + and drew a rough outline map. “Here is Denver, and here is Carbonate,” he + explained. “At present the Utah is running into Carbonate this way over + the rails of the C. G. R. on a joint track agreement which either line may + terminate by giving six months' notice of its intention to the other. Got + that?” + </p> + <p> + “To have and to hold,” said Adams. “Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, on the first day of September the C. G. R. people gave the Utah + management notice to quit.” + </p> + <p> + “They are bloated monopolists,” said Adams sententiously. “Still I don't + see why there should be any scrapping over the line in Quartz Creek + Canyon.” + </p> + <p> + “No? You are not up in monopolistic methods. In six months from September + first the Utah people will be shut out of Carbonate business, which is all + that keeps that part of their line alive. If they want a share of that + traffic after March first, they will have to have a road of their own to + carry it over.” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely,” said Adams, stifling a yawn. “They are building one, aren't + they?” + </p> + <p> + “Trying to,” Winton amended. “But, unfortunately, the only practicable + route through the mountains is up Quartz Creek Canyon, and the canyon is + already occupied by a branch line of the Colorado and Grand River.” + </p> + <p> + “Still I don't see why there should be any scrap.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you? If the Rajah's road can keep the new line out of Carbonate + till the six months have expired, it will have a monopoly of all the + carrying trade of the camp. By consequence it can force every shipper in + the district to make iron-clad contracts, so that when the Utah line is + finally completed it won't be able to secure any freight for a year, at + least.” + </p> + <p> + “Oho! that's the game, is it? I begin to savvy the burro: that's the + proper phrase, isn't it? And what are our chances?” + </p> + <p> + “We have about one in a hundred, as near as I could make out from Mr. + Callowell's statement of the case. The C. G. R. people are moving heaven + and earth to obstruct us in the canyon. If they can delay the work a + little longer, the weather will do the rest. With the first heavy snow in + the mountains, which usually comes long before this, the Utah will have to + put up its tools and wait till next summer.” + </p> + <p> + Adams lighted another cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me if I seem inquisitive,” he said, “but for the life of me I + can't understand what these obstructionists can do. Of course, they can't + use force.” + </p> + <p> + Winton's smile was grim. “Can't they? Wait till you get on the ground. But + the first move was peaceable enough. They got an injunction from the + courts restraining the new line from encroaching on their right of way.” + </p> + <p> + “Which was a thing that nobody wanted to do,” said Adams, between + inhalations. + </p> + <p> + “Which was a thing the Utah <i>had</i> to do,” corrected Winton. “The + canyon is a narrow gorge—a mere slit in parts of it. That is where + they have us.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well,” returned Adams, “I suppose we took an appeal and asked to have + the injunction set aside?” + </p> + <p> + “We did, promptly; and that is the present status of the fight. The appeal + decision has not yet been handed down; and in the meantime we go on + building railroad, incurring all the penalties for contempt of court with + every shovelful of earth moved. Do you still think you will be in danger + of ossifying?” + </p> + <p> + Adams let the question rest while he asked one of his own. + </p> + <p> + “How do you come to be mixed up in it, Jack? A week ago some one told me + you were going to South America to build a railroad in the Andes. What + switched you?” + </p> + <p> + Winton shook his head. “Fate, I guess; that and a wire from President + Callowell of the Utah offering me this. Chief of Construction Evarts, in + charge of the work in Quartz Creek Canyon, said what you said a few + minutes ago—that he had not hired out for a soldier. He resigned, + and I'm taking his berth.” + </p> + <p> + Adams rose and buttoned his coat. + </p> + <p> + “By all of which it seems that we two are in for a good bit more than the + ossifying exile,” he remarked. And then: “I am going back into the + Rosemary to pay my respects to Miss Virginia Carteret. Won't you come + along?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Winton, more shortly than the invitation warranted; and the + other went his way alone. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. IN WHICH AN ENGINE IS SWITCHED + </h2> + <p> + “'Scuse me, sah; private cyah, sah.” + </p> + <p> + It was the porter's challenge in the vestibule of the Rosemary. Adams + found a card. + </p> + <p> + “Take that to Miss Carteret—Miss Virginia Carteret,” he directed, + and waited till the man came back with his welcome. + </p> + <p> + The extension table in the open rear third of the private car was closed + to its smallest dimensions, and the movable furnishings were disposed + about the compartment to make it a comfortable lounging room. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Carteret was propped among the cushions of a divan with a book. Her + daughter occupied the undivided half of a tete-a-tete chair with a blond + athlete in a clerical coat and a reversed collar. Miss Virginia was + sitting alone at a window, but she rose and came to greet the visitor. + </p> + <p> + “How good of you to take pity on us!” she said, giving him her hand. Then + she put him at one with the others: “Aunt Martha you have met; also Cousin + Bessie. Let me present you to Mr. Calvert: Cousin Billy, this is Mr. + Adams, who is responsible in a way for many of my Boston-learned + gaucheries.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Martha closed the book on her finger. “My dear Virginia!” she + protested in mild deprecation; and Adams laughed and shook hands with the + Reverend William Calvert and made Virginia's peace all in the same breath. + </p> + <p> + “Don't apologize for Miss Virginia, Mrs. Carteret. We were very good + friends in Boston, chiefly, I think, because I never objected when she + wanted to—er—to take a rise out of me.” Then to Virginia: “I + hope I don't intrude?” + </p> + <p> + “Not in the least. Didn't I just say you were good to come? Uncle + Somerville tells us we are passing through the famous Golden Belt,—whatever + that may be,—and recommends an easy-chair and a window. But I + haven't seen anything but stubble-fields—dismally wet stubble-fields + at that. Won't you sit down and help me watch them go by?” + </p> + <p> + Adams placed a chair for her and found one for himself. + </p> + <p> + “'Uncle Somerville'—am I to have the pleasure of meeting Mr. + Somerville Darrah?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Virginia's laugh was non-committal. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Quien sabe</i>?” she queried, airing her one Westernism before she was + fairly in the longitude of it. “Uncle Somerville is a law unto himself. He + had a lot of telegrams and things at Kansas City, and he is locked in his + den with Mr. Jastrow, dictating answers by the dozen, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, these industry colonels!” said Adams. “Don't their toilings make you + ache in sheer sympathy sometimes?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed,” was the prompt rejoinder; “I envy them. It must be fine to + have large things to do, and to be able to do them.” + </p> + <p> + “Degenerate scion of a noble race!” jested Adams. “What ancient Carteret + of them all would have compromised with the necessities by becoming a + captain of industry?” + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't their <i>metier</i>, or the <i>metier</i> of their times,” said + Miss Virginia with conviction. “They were sword-soldiers merely because + that was the only way a strong man could conquer in those days. Now it is + different, and a strong man fights quite as nobly in another field—and + deserves quite as much honor.” + </p> + <p> + “Think so? I don't agree with you—as to the fighting, I mean. I like + to take things easy. A good club, a choice of decent theaters, the society + of a few charming young women like—” + </p> + <p> + She broke him with a mocking laugh. + </p> + <p> + “You were born a good many centuries too late, Mr. Adams; you would have + fitted so beautifully, into decadent Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “No—thanks. Twentieth-century America, with the commercial frenzy + taken out of it, is good enough for me. I was telling Winton a little + while ago—” + </p> + <p> + “Your friend of the Kansas City station platform?” she interrupted. + “Mightn't you introduce us a little less informally?” + </p> + <p> + “Beg pardon, I'm sure—yours and Jack's: Mr. John Winton, of New York + and the world at large, familiarly known to his intimates—and they + are precious few—as 'Jack W.' As I was about to say—” + </p> + <p> + But she seemed to find a malicious satisfaction in breaking in upon him. + </p> + <p> + “'Mr. John Winton': it's a pretty name as names go, but it isn't as strong + as he is. He is an 'industry colonel,' isn't he? He looks it.” + </p> + <p> + The Bostonian avenged himself at Winton's expense for the unwelcome + interruption. + </p> + <p> + “So much for your woman's intuition,” he laughed. “Speaking of idlers, + there is your man to the dotting of the 'i'; a dilettante raised to the <i>nth</i> + power.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Carteret's short upper lip curled in undisguised scorn. + </p> + <p> + “I like men who do things,” she asserted with pointed emphasis; whereupon + the talk drifted eastward to Boston, and Winton was ignored until + Virginia, having exhausted the reminiscent vein, said, “You are going on + through to Denver?” + </p> + <p> + “To Denver and beyond,” was the reply. “Winton has a notion of hibernating + in the mountains—fancy it; in the dead of winter!—and he has + persuaded me to go along. He sketches a little, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, so he is an artist?” said Virginia, with interest newly aroused. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Adams gloomily, “he isn't an artist—isn't much of + anything, I'm sorry to say. Worse than all, he doesn't know his + grandfather's middle name. Told me so himself.” + </p> + <p> + “That is inexcusable—in a dilettante,” said Miss Virginia mockingly. + “Don't you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “It is inexcusable in anyone,” said the Technologian, rising to take his + leave. Then, as a parting word: “Does the Rosemary set its own table? or + do you dine in the dining-car?” + </p> + <p> + “In the dining-car, if we have one. Uncle Somerville lets us dodge the + Rosemary's cook whenever we can,” was the answer; and with this bit of + information Adams went his way to the Denver sleeper. + </p> + <p> + Finding Winton in his section, poring over a blue-print map and making + notes thereon after the manner of a man hard at work, Adams turned back to + the smoking-compartment. + </p> + <p> + Now for Mr. Morton P. Adams the salt of life was a joke, harmless or + otherwise, as the tree might fall. So, during the long afternoon which he + wore out in solitude, there grew up in him a keen desire to see what would + befall if these two whom he had so grotesquely misrepresented each to the + other should come together in the pathway of acquaintanceship. + </p> + <p> + But how to bring them together was a problem which refused to be solved + until chance pointed the way. Since the Limited had lost another hour + during the day there was a rush for the dining-car as soon as the + announcement of its taking-on had gone through the train. Adams and Winton + were of this rush, and so were the members of Mr. Somerville Darrah's + party. In the seating the party was separated, as room at the crowded + tables could be found; and Miss Virginia's fate gave her the unoccupied + seat at one of the duet tables, opposite a young man with steadfast gray + eyes and a firm jaw. + </p> + <p> + Winton was equal to the emergency, or thought he was. Adams was still + within call and he beckoned him, meaning to propose an exchange of seats. + But the Bostonian misunderstood wilfully. + </p> + <p> + “Most happy, I'm sure,” he said, coming instantly to the rescue. “Miss + Carteret, my friend signals his dilemma. May I present him?” + </p> + <p> + Virginia smiled and gave the required permission in a word. But for Winton + self-possession fled shrieking. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—er—I hope you know Mr. Adams well enough to make + allowances for his—for his—” He broke down helplessly and she + had to come to his assistance. + </p> + <p> + “For his imagination?” she suggested. “I do, indeed; we are quite old + friends.” + </p> + <p> + Here was “well enough,” but Winton was a man and could not let it alone. + </p> + <p> + “I should be very sorry to have you think for a moment that I would—er—so + far forget myself,” he went on fatuously. “What I had in mind was an + exchange of seats with him. I thought it would be pleasanter for you; that + is, I mean, pleasanter for—” He stopped short, seeing nothing but a + more hopeless involvement ahead; also because he saw signals of distress + or of mirth flying in the brown eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, please!” she protested in mock humility. “Do leave my vanity just the + tiniest little cranny to creep out of, Mr. Winton. I'll promise to be good + and not bore you too desperately.” + </p> + <p> + At this, as you would imagine, the pit of utter self-abasement yawned for + Winton, and he plunged headlong, holding the bill of fare wrong side up + when the waiter asked for his dinner order, and otherwise demeaning + himself like a man taken at a hopeless disadvantage. She took pity on him. + </p> + <p> + “But let's ignore Mr. Adams,” she went on sweetly. “I am much more + interested in this,” touching the bill of fare. “Will you order for me, + please? I like—” + </p> + <p> + When she had finished the list of her likings, Winton was able to smile at + his lapse into the primitive, and gave the dinner order for two with a + fair degree of coherence. After that they got on better. Winton knew + Boston, and, next to the weather, Boston was the safest and most fruitful + of the commonplaces. Nevertheless, it was not immortal; and Winton was + just beginning to cast about for some other safe riding road for the + shallop of small talk when Miss Carteret sent it adrift with malice + aforethought. + </p> + <p> + It was somewhere between the entrees and the fruit, and the point of + departure was Boston art. + </p> + <p> + “Speaking of art, Mr. Winton, will you tell me how you came to think of + sketching in the mountains of Colorado at this time of year? I should + think the cold would be positively prohibitive of anything like that.” + </p> + <p> + Winton stared—open-mouthed, it is to be feared. + </p> + <p> + “I—I beg your pardon,” he stammered, with the inflection which takes + its pitch from blank bewilderment. + </p> + <p> + Miss Virginia was happy. Dilettante he might be, and an unhumbled man of + the world as well; but, to use the Reverend Billy's phrase, she could make + him “sit up.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg yours, I'm sure,” she said demurely. “I didn't know it was a craft + secret.” + </p> + <p> + Winton looked across the aisle to the table where the Technologian was + sitting opposite a square-shouldered, ruddy-faced gentleman with fiery + eyes and fierce white mustaches, and shook a figurative fist. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to know what Adams has been telling you,” he said. “Sketching in + the mountains in midwinter! that would be decidedly original, to say the + least of it. And I think I have never done an original thing in all my + life.” + </p> + <p> + For a single instant the brown eyes looked their pity for him; generic + pity it was, of the kind that mounting souls bestow upon the stagnant. But + the subconscious lover in Winton made it personal to him, and it was the + lover who spoke when he went on. + </p> + <p> + “That is a damaging admission, is it not? I am sorry to have to make it—to + have to confirm your poor opinion of me.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I say anything like that?” she protested. + </p> + <p> + “Not in words; but your eyes said it, and I know you have been thinking it + all along. Don't ask me how I know it: I couldn't explain it if I should + try. But you have been pitying me, in a way—you know you have.” + </p> + <p> + The brown eyes were downcast. Frank and free-hearted after her kind as she + was, Virginia Carteret was finding it a new and singular experience to + have a man tell her baldly at their first meeting that he had read her + inmost thought of him. Yet she would not flinch or go back. + </p> + <p> + “There is so much to be done in the world, and so few to do the work,” she + pleaded in extenuation. + </p> + <p> + “And Adams has told you that I am not one of the few? It is true enough to + hurt.” + </p> + <p> + She looked him fairly in the eyes. “What is lacking, Mr. Winton—the + spur?” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly,” he rejoined. “There is no one near enough to care, or to say + 'Well done!'” + </p> + <p> + “How can you tell?” she questioned musingly. “It is not always permitted + to us to hear the plaudits or the hisses—happily, I think. Yet there + are always those standing by who are ready to cry '<i>Io triumphe</i>!' + and mean it, when one approves himself a good soldier.” + </p> + <p> + The coffee had been served, and Winton sat thoughtfully stirring the lump + of sugar in his cup. Miss Carteret was not having a monopoly of the new + experiences. For instance, it had never before happened to John Winton to + have a woman, young, charming, and altogether lovable, read him a lesson + out of the book of the overcomers. + </p> + <p> + He smiled inwardly and wondered what she would say if she could know to + what battlefield the drumming wheels of the Limited were speeding him. + Would she be loyal to her mentorship and tell him he must win, at whatever + the cost to Mr. Somerville Darrah and his business associates? Or would + she, womanlike, be her uncle's partizan and write one John Winton down in + her blackest book for daring to oppose the Rajah? + </p> + <p> + He assured himself it would make no jot of difference if he knew. He had a + thing to do, and he was purposed to do it strenuously, inflexibly. Yet in + the inmost chamber of his heart, where the barbarian ego stands unabashed + and isolate and recklessly contemptuous of the moralities minor and major, + he saw the birth of an influence which inevitably must henceforth be + desperately reckoned with. + </p> + <p> + Given a name, this new-born life-factor was love; love barely awakened, + and as yet no more than a masterful desire to stand well in the eyes of + one woman. None the less, he saw the possibilities: that a time might come + when this woman would have the power to intervene; would make him hold his + hand in the business affair at the very moment, mayhap, when he should + strike the hardest. + </p> + <p> + It was a rather unnerving thought, and when he considered it he was glad + that their ways, coinciding for the moment, would presently go apart, + leaving him free to do battle as an honest soldier in any cause must. + </p> + <p> + The Rosemary party was rising, and Winton rose, too, folding the seat for + Miss Virginia and carefully reaching her wrap from the rack. + </p> + <p> + “I am so glad to have met you,” she said, giving him the tips of her + fingers and going back to the conventionalities as if they had never been + ignored. + </p> + <p> + But the sincerity in Winton's reply transcended the conventional form of + it. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, the pleasure has been wholly mine, I assure you. I hope the + future will be kind to me and let me see more of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Who knows?” she rejoined, smiling at him level-eyed. “The world has been + steadily growing smaller since Shakespeare called it 'narrow.'” + </p> + <p> + He caught quickly at the straw of hope. “Then we need not say good-by?” + </p> + <p> + “No; let it be <i>auf Wiedersehen</i>,” she said; and he stood aside to + allow her to join her party. + </p> + <p> + Two hours later, when Adams was reading in his section and Winton was + smoking his short pipe in the men's compartment and thinking things + unspeakable with Virginia Carteret for a nucleus, there was a series of + sharp whistle-shrieks, a sudden grinding of the brakes, and a jarring stop + of the Limited—a stop not down on the time-card. + </p> + <p> + Winton was among the first to reach the head of the long train. The halt + was in a little depression of the bleak plain, and the train-men were in + conference over a badly-derailed engine when Winton came up. A vast herd + of cattle was lumbering away into the darkness, and a mangled carcass + under the wheels of the locomotive sufficiently explained the accident. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's only the one thing to do,” was the engineer's verdict. + “That's for somebody to mog back to Arroyo to wire for the wreck-wagon.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, by gum! and that means all night,” growled the conductor. + </p> + <p> + There was a stir in the gathering throng of half-alarmed and all-curious + passengers, and a red-faced, white-mustached gentleman, whose soft + southern accent was utterly at variance with his manner, hurled a question + bolt-like at the conductor. + </p> + <p> + “All night, you say, seh? Then we miss ouh Denver connections?” + </p> + <p> + “You can bet to win on that,” was the curt reply. + </p> + <p> + “Damn!” said the ruddy-faced gentleman; and then in a lower tone: “I beg + your pahdon, my deah Virginia; I was totally unaware of your presence.” + </p> + <p> + Winton threw off his overcoat. + </p> + <p> + “If you will take a bit of help from an outsider, I think we needn't wait + for the wrecking-car,” he said to the dubious trainmen. “It's bad, but not + so bad as it looks. What do you say?” + </p> + <p> + Now, as everyone knows, it is not in the nature of operative railway men + to brook interference even of the helpful sort. But they are as quick as + other folk to recognize the man in essence, as well as to know the clan + slogan when they hear it. Winton did not wait for objections, but took + over the command as one in authority. + </p> + <p> + “Think we can't do it? I'll show you. Up on the tank, one of you, and + heave down the jacks and frogs. We'll have her on the steel again before + you can say your prayers.” + </p> + <p> + At the hearty command, churlish reluctance vanished and everybody lent a + willing hand. In two minutes the crew of the Limited knew it was working + under a master. The frogs were adjusted under the derailed wheels, the + jack-screws were braced to lift and push with the nicest accuracy, and all + was ready for the attempt to back the engine in trial. But now the + engineer shook his bead. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't the artist to move her gently enough with all that string o' + dinkeys behind her,” he said unhopefully. + </p> + <p> + “No?” said Winton. “Come up into the cab with and I'll show you how.” And + he climbed to the driver's footboard with the doubting engineer at his + heels. + </p> + <p> + The reversing-lever went over with a clash; the air whistled into the + brakes; and Winton began to ease the throttle open. The steam sang into + the cylinders, the huge machine trembling like a living thing under the + hand of a master. + </p> + <p> + Slowly and by almost imperceptible degrees the life of the pent-up boiler + power crept into the pistons and out through the connecting rods to the + wheels. With the first thrill of the gripping tires Winton leaned from the + window to watch the derailed trucks climb by half-inches up the inclined + planes of the frogs. + </p> + <p> + At the critical instant, when the entire weight of the forward half of the + engine was poising for the drop upon the rails, he gave the precise added + impulse. The big ten-wheeler coughed hoarsely and spat fire; the + driving-wheels made a quick half-turn backward; and a cheer from the + onlookers marked the little triumph of mind over matter. + </p> + <p> + Winton found Miss Carteret holding his overcoat when he swung down from + the cab, and he fancied her enthusiasm was tempered with something + remotely like embarrassment. But she suffered him to walk back to the + private car beside her; and in this sudden retreat from the scene of + action he missed hearing the comments of his fellow craftsmen. + </p> + <p> + “You bet, he's no 'prentice,” said the fireman. + </p> + <p> + “Not much!” quoth the engineer. “He's an all-round artist, that's about + what he is. Shouldn't wonder if he was the travelin' engineer for some + road back in God's country.” + </p> + <p> + “Travelin' nothing!” said the conductor. “More likely he's a train-master, + 'r p'raps a bigger boss than that. Call in the flag, Jim, and we'll be + getting a move.” + </p> + <p> + Oddly enough, the comment on Winton did not pause with the encomiums of + the train crew. When the Limited was once more rushing on its way through + the night, and Virginia and her cousin were safe in the privacy of their + state-room, Miss Carteret added her word. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, Bessie, I think it was Mr. Adams who scored this afternoon?” + she said. + </p> + <p> + “How so?” inquired <i>la petite</i> Bisque, who was too sleepy to be + over-curious. + </p> + <p> + “I think he 'took a rise' out of me, as he puts it. Mr. Winton is + precisely all the kinds of man Mr. Adams said he wasn't.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. IN WHICH AN ITINERARY IS CHANGED + </h2> + <p> + It was late breakfast time when the Transcontinental Limited swept around + the great curve in the eastern fringe of Denver, paused for a registering + moment at “yard limits,” and went clattering in over the switches to come + to rest at the end of its long westward run on the in-track at the Union + Depot. + </p> + <p> + Having wired ahead to have his mail meet him at the yard limits + registering station, Winton was ready to make a dash for the telegraph + office the moment the train stopped. + </p> + <p> + “That is our wagon, over there on the narrow-gage,” he said to Adams, + pointing out the waiting mountain train. “Have the porter transfer our + dunnage, and I'll be with you as soon as I can send a wire or two.” + </p> + <p> + On the way across the broad platform he saw the yard crew cutting out the + Rosemary, and had a glimpse of Miss Virginia clinging to the hand-rail and + enjoying enthusiastically, he fancied, her first view of the mighty hills + to the westward. + </p> + <p> + The temptation to let the telegraphing wait while he went to say good + morning to her was strong, but he resisted it and hastened the more for + the hesitant thought. Nevertheless, when he reached the telegraph office + he found Mr. Somerville Darrah and his secretary there ahead of him, and + he observed that the explosive gentleman who presided over the destinies + of the Colorado and Grand River appeared to be in a more than usually + volcanic frame of mind. + </p> + <p> + Now Winton, though new to the business of building railroads for the Utah + Short Line, was not new to Denver or Colorado. Hence when the Rajah, + followed by his secretarial shadow, had left the office, Winton spoke to + the operator as to a friend. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with Mr. Darrah, Tom? He seems to be uncommonly + vindictive this morning.” + </p> + <p> + The man of dots and dashes nodded. + </p> + <p> + “He's always crankier this time than he was the other. He's a holy terror, + the Rajah is. I wouldn't work on his road for a farm down East—not + if my job took me within cussing distance of him. Bet a hen worth fifty + dollars he is up in Mr. Colbert's office right now, raising particular + sand because his special engine wasn't standing here ready to snatch his + private car on the fly, so's to go on without losing headway.” + </p> + <p> + Winton frowned thoughtfully, and he let his writing hand pause while he + said, “So he travels special from Denver, does he?” + </p> + <p> + “On his own road?—well, I should smile. Nothing is too good for the + Rajah; or too quick, when he happens to be in a hurry. I wonder he didn't + have the T. C. pull him special from Kansas City.” + </p> + <p> + Winton handed in his batch of telegrams and went his way reflective. + </p> + <p> + What was Mr. Somerville Darrah's particular rush? As set forth by Adams, + the plans of the party in the Rosemary contemplated nothing more hasty + than a leisurely trip to the Pacific coast—a pleasure jaunt with a + winter sojourn in California to lengthen it. Why, then, this sudden change + from Limited regular trains to unlimited specials? Was there fresh news + from the seat of war in Quartz Creek Canyon? Winton thought not. In that + case he would have had his budget as well; and so far as his own advices + went, matters were still as they had been. A letter from the Utah + attorneys in Carbonate assured him that the injunction appeal was not yet + decided, and another from Chief of Construction Evarts concerned itself + mainly with the major's desire to know when he was to be relieved. + </p> + <p> + But if Winton could have been an eavesdropper behind the door of + Superintendent Colbert's office on the second floor of the Union Depot, + his doubts would have been resolved instantly. + </p> + <p> + The telegraph operator's guess went straight to the mark. Mr. Darrah was + “raising particular sand” because his wire order for a special engine had + not been obeyed to the saving of the ultimate second of time. But between + his objurgations on that score, he was rasping out questions designed to + exhaust the chief clerk's store of information concerning the status of + affairs at the seat of war. + </p> + <p> + “Will you inform me, seh, why I wasn't wired that this beggahly appeal was + going against us?” he demanded wrathfully. “What's that you say, seh? + Don't tell me you couldn't know what the decision of the cou't was going + to be before it was handed down: that's what you-all are heah for—to + find out these things! And what is all this about Majah Eva'ts resigning, + and the Utah's sending East for a professional right-of-way fighteh to + take his place? Who is this new man? Don't know? Dammit, seh! it's your + business to know! <i>Now when do you faveh me with my engine</i>?” + </p> + <p> + Thus the Rajah; and the chief clerk, himself known from end to end of the + Colorado and Grand River as a queller of men, could only point out of the + window to where the Rosemary stood engined and equipped for the race, and + say meekly: “I'm awfully sorry you've been delayed, Mr. Darrah; very + sorry, indeed. But your car is ready now. Shall I go along to be on hand + if you need me?” + </p> + <p> + “No, seh!” stormed the irate master; and the chief clerk's face became + instantly expressive of the keenest relief. “You stay right heah and see + that the wires to Qua'tz Creek are kept open—wide open, seh. And + when you get an ordeh from me—for an engine, a regiment of the + National Gyua'd, or a train-load of white elephants—you fill it. Do + you understand, seh?” + </p> + <p> + Meantime, while this scene was getting itself enacted in the + superintendent's office, a mild fire of consternation was alight in the + gathering room of the Rosemary. As we have guessed, Winton's packet of + mail was not the only one which was delivered by special arrangement that + morning to the incoming Limited at the yard registering station. There had + been another, addressed to Mr. Somerville Darrah; and when he had opened + it there had been a volcanic explosion and a hurried dash for the + telegraph office, as recorded. + </p> + <p> + Sifted out by the Reverend Billy, and explained by him to Mrs. Carteret + and Bessie, the firing spark of the explosion appeared to be some news of + an untoward character from a place vaguely designated as “the front.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems that there is some sort of a right-of-way scrimmage going on up + in the mountains between our road and the Utah Short Line,” said the young + man. “It was carried into the courts, and now it turns out that the + decision has gone against us.” + </p> + <p> + “How perfectly horrid!” said Miss Bessie. “Now I suppose we shall have to + stay here indefinitely while Uncle Somerville does things.” And placid + Mrs. Carteret added plaintively: “It's too bad! I think they might let him + have one little vacation in peace.” + </p> + <p> + “Who talks of peace?” queried Virginia, driven in from her post of vantage + on the observation platform by the smoke from the switching-engine. + “Didn't I see Uncle Somerville charging across to the telegraph office + with war written out large in every line of him?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid you did,” affirmed the Reverend Billy; and thereupon the + explanation was rehearsed for Virginia's benefit. + </p> + <p> + The brown eyes flashed militant sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wish Uncle Somerville would go to 'the front,' wherever that is, + and take us along!” she cried. “It would be ever so much better than + California.” + </p> + <p> + The Reverend William laughed; and Aunt Martha put in her word of + expostulation, as in duty bound. + </p> + <p> + “Why, my dear Virginia—the idea! You don't know in the least what + you are talking about. I have been reading in the papers about these + right-of-way troubles, and they are perfectly terrible. One report said + they were arming the laboring men, and another said the militia might have + to be called out.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what of it?” said Virginia, with all the hardihood of youth and + unknowledge. “It's something like a burning building: one doesn't want to + be hard-hearted and rejoice over other people's misfortunes; but then, if + it has to burn, one would like to be there to see.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Bessie put a stray lock of the flaxen hair up under its proper comb. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure I prefer California and the orange-groves and peace,” she + asserted. “Don't you, Cousin Billy?” + </p> + <p> + What Mr. Calvert would have replied is no matter for this history, since + at this precise moment the Rajah came in, “coruscating,” as Virginia put + it, from his late encounter with the superintendent's chief clerk. + </p> + <p> + “Give them the word to go, Jastrow, and let's get out of heah,” he + commanded. And when the secretary had vanished the Rajah made his + explanations to all and sundry. “I've been obliged in a manneh to change + ouh itinerary. Anotheh company is trying to fault us up in Qua'tz Creek + Canyon, and I am in a meashuh compelled to be on the ground. We shall be + delayed only a few days, I hope; at the worst only until the first + snow-storm comes; and, in the meantime, Califo'nia won't run away.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia clapped her hands. + </p> + <p> + “Then we are really to go to 'the front' and see a right-of-way fight? Oh, + won't that be perfectly intoxicating!” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah glared at her as if she had said something incendiary. The + picturesque aspect of the struggle had evidently not appealed to him. But + he smiled grimly when he said: “Now there spoke the blood of the fighting + Carterets: hope you won't change your mind, my deah.” And with that he + dived into his working den, pushing the lately-returned secretary in ahead + of him. + </p> + <p> + Virginia linked arms with Bessie, the flaxen-haired, when the wheels began + to turn. + </p> + <p> + “We are off,” she said. “Let's go out on the platform and see the last of + Denver.” + </p> + <p> + It was while they were clinging to the hand-rail, and looking back upon + the jumble of railway activities out of which they had just emerged that + the Rosemary, gaining headway, overtook another moving train running + smoothly on a track parallel to that upon which the private car was + speeding. It was the narrow-gage mountain connection of the Utah line, and + Winton and Adams were on the rear platform of the last car. So it chanced + that the four of them were presently waving their adieus across the + wind-blown interspace. In the midst of it, or rather at the moment when + the Rosemary, gathering speed as the lighter of the two trains, forged + ahead, the Rajah came out to light his cigar. + </p> + <p> + He took in the little tableau of the rear platforms at a glance, and when + the slower train was left behind asked a question of Virginia. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—wasn't one of those two the young gentleman who called on you + yestehday afternoon, my deah?” + </p> + <p> + Virginia admitted it. + </p> + <p> + “Could you faveh me with his name?” + </p> + <p> + “He is Mr. Morton P. Adams, of Boston.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah-h! and his friend—the young gentleman who laid his hand to ouh + plow and put the engine on the track last night?” + </p> + <p> + “He is Mr. Winton—a—an artist, I believe; at least, that is + what I gathered from what Mr. Adams said of him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Somerville Darrah laughed, a slow little laugh, deep in his chest. + </p> + <p> + “Bless youh innocent soul—he a picchuh—painteh? Not in a + thousand yeahs, my deah Virginia. He is a railroad man, and a right good + one at that. Faveh me with the name again; Winteh, did you say?” + </p> + <p> + “No; Winton—Mr. John Winton.” + </p> + <p> + “D-d-devil!” gritted the Rajah, smiting the hand-rail with his clenched + fist. “Hah! I beg your pahdon, my deahs—a meah slip of the tongue.” + And then, to the full as savagely: “By Heaven, I hope that train will fly + the track and ditch him before eveh he comes within ordering distance of + the work in Qua'tz Creek Canyon!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Uncle Somerville—how vindictive!” cried Virginia. “Who is he, + and what has he done?” + </p> + <p> + “He is Misteh John Winton, as you informed me just now; one of the + brainiest constructing engineers in this entiah country, and the hardest + man in this or any otheh country to down in a right-of-way fight—that's + who he is. And it's not what he's done, my deah Virginia, it's what he is + going to do. If I can't get him killed up out of ouh way,”—but here + Mr. Darrah saw the growing terror in two pairs of eyes, and realizing that + he was committing himself before an unsympathetic audience, beat a hasty + retreat to his stronghold at the other end of the Rosemary. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” said the flaxen-haired Bessie, catching her breath. But Virginia + laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad I'm not Mr. Winton,” she said. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. THE CRYSTALLINE ALTITUDES + </h2> + <p> + Morning in the highest highlands of the Rockies, a morning clear, cold, + and tense, with a bell-like quality in the frosty air to make the cracking + of a snow-laden spruce-bough resound like a pistol-shot. For Denver and + the dwellers on the eastern plain the sun is an hour high; but the hamlet + mining-camp of Argentine, with its dovecote railway station and + two-pronged siding, still lies in the steel-blue depths of the canyon + shadow. + </p> + <p> + Massive mountains, dark green to the timber line and dazzling white above + it, shut in the narrow valley to right and left. A mimic torrent, + ice-bound in the quieter pools, drums and gurgles on its descent midway + between two railway embankments, the one to which the station and + side-tracks belong, old and well-settled, the other new and as yet + unballasted. Just opposite the pygmy station a lateral gorge intersects + the main canyon, making a deep gash in the opposing mountain bulwark, + around which the new line has to find its way by a looping detour. + </p> + <p> + In a scanty widening of the main canyon a few hundred yards below the + station a graders' camp of rude slab shelters is turning out its horde of + wild-looking Italians; and on a crooked spur track fronting the shanties + blue wood-smoke is curling lazily upward from the kitchen car of a + construction train. + </p> + <p> + All night long the Rosemary, drawn by the sturdiest of mountain-climbing + locomotives, had stormed onward and upward from the valley of the Grand, + through black defiles and around the shrugged shoulders of the mighty + peaks to find a resting-place in the white-robed dawn on the siding at + Argentine. The lightest of sleepers, Virginia had awakened when the + special was passing through Carbonate; and, drawing the berth curtain, she + had lain for an hour watching the solemn procession of cliffs and peaks + wheeling in stately and orderly array against the inky background of sky. + Now, in the steel-blue dawn, she was—or thought she was—the + first member of the party to dress and steal out upon the railed platform + to look abroad upon the wondrous scene in the canyon. + </p> + <p> + But her reverie, trance-like in its wordless enthusiasm, was presently + broken by a voice behind her—the voice, namely, of Mr. Arthur + Jastrow. + </p> + <p> + “What a howling wilderness, to be sure, isn't it?” said the secretary, + twirling his eyeglasses by the cord and looking, as he felt, interminably + bored. + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed; anything but that,” she retorted warmly. “It is grander than + anything I ever imagined. I wish there were a piano in the car. It makes + me fairly ache to set it in some form of expression, and music is the only + form I know.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad if it doesn't bore you,” he rejoined, willing to agree with her + for the sake of prolonging the interview. “But to me it is nothing more + than a dreary wilderness, as I say; a barren, rock-ribbed gulch affording + an indifferent right of way for two railroads.” + </p> + <p> + “For one,” she corrected, in a quick upflash of loyalty for her kin. + </p> + <p> + The secretary shifted his gaze from the mountains to the maiden and + smiled. She was exceedingly good to look upon—high-bred, queenly, + and just now the fine fire of enthusiasm quickened her pulses and sent the + rare flush to neck and cheek. + </p> + <p> + Jastrow the cold-eyed, the business automaton, set to go off with a click + at Mr. Somerville Darrah's touch, had ambitions not automatic. Some day he + meant to put the world of business under foot as a conqueror, standing + triumphant on the apex of that pyramid of success which the Mr. Somerville + Darrahs were so painstakingly uprearing. When that day should come, there + would need to be an establishment, a menage, a queen for the kingdom of + success. Summing her up for the hundredth time since the beginning of the + westward flight, he thought Miss Carteret would fill the requirements + passing well. + </p> + <p> + But this was a divagation, and he pulled himself back to the askings of + the moment, agreeing with her again without reference to his private + convictions. + </p> + <p> + “For one, I should have said,” he amended. “We mean to have it that way, + though an unprejudiced onlooker might be foolish enough to say that there + is a pretty good present prospect of two.” + </p> + <p> + But Miss Carteret was in a contradictory mood. Moreover, she was a woman, + and the way to a woman's confidence does not lie through the neutral + country of easy compliance. + </p> + <p> + “If you won't take the other side, I will,” she said. “There will be two.” + </p> + <p> + Jastrow acquiesced a second time. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't wonder. Our competitor's road seems to be only a question of + time—a very short time, judging from the number of men turning out + in the track gang down yonder.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia leaned over the railing to look past the car and the dovecote + station shading her eyes to shut out the snow-blink from the sun-fired + peaks. + </p> + <p> + “Why, they are soldiers!” she exclaimed. “At least, some of them have guns + on their shoulders. And see—they are forming in line!” + </p> + <p> + The secretary adjusted his eye-glasses. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! you are right; they have armed the track force. The new chief of + construction doesn't mean to take any chances of being shaken loose by + main strength. Here they come.” + </p> + <p> + The end of track of the new line was diagonally across the creek from the + Rosemary's berth and a short pistol-shot farther down stream. But to + advance it to a point opposite the private car, and to gain the altitude + of the high embankment directly across from the station, the new line + turned short out of the main canyon at the mouth of the intersecting + gorge, describing a long, U-shaped curve around the head of the lateral + ravine and doubling back upon itself to reenter the canyon proper at the + higher elevation. + </p> + <p> + The curve which was the beginning of this U-shaped loop was the morning's + scene of action, and the Utah track-layers, two hundred strong, moved to + the front in orderly array, with armed guards as flankers for the handcar + load of rails which the men were pushing up the grade. + </p> + <p> + Jastrow darted into the car, and a moment later his place on the + observation platform was taken by a wrathful industry colonel fresh from + his dressing-room—so fresh, indeed, that he was coatless, hatless, + and collarless, and with the dripping bath-sponge clutched like a missile + to hurl at the impudent invaders on the opposite side of the canyon. + </p> + <p> + “Hah! wouldn't wait until a man could get into his clothes!” he rasped, + apostrophizing the Utah's new chief of construction. “Jastrow! Faveh me + instantly, seh! Hustle up to the camp there and turn out the constable, + town-marshal, or whatever he is. Tell him I have a writ for him to serve. + Run, seh!” + </p> + <p> + The secretary appeared and disappeared like a marionette when the string + has been jerked by a vigorous hand, and Virginia smiled—this without + prejudice to a very acute appreciation of the grave possibilities which + were preparing themselves. But having her share of the militant quality + which made her uncle what he was, she stood her ground. + </p> + <p> + “Aren't you afraid you will take cold, Uncle Somerville?” she asked + archly; and the Rajah came suddenly to a sense of his incompleteness and + went in to finish his ablutions against the opening of the battle actual. + </p> + <p> + At first Virginia thought she would follow him. When Mercury Jastrow + should return with the officer of the law there would be trouble of some + sort, and the woman in her shrank from the witnessing of it. But at the + same instant the blood of the fighting Carterets asserted itself and she + resolved to stay. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what uncle hopes to be able to do?” she mused. “Will a little + town constable with a bit of signed paper from some lawyer or judge be + mighty enough to stop all that furious activity over there? It's more than + incredible.” + </p> + <p> + From that she fell to watching the activity and the orderly purpose of it. + A length of steel, with men clustering like bees upon it, would slide from + its place on the hand-car to fall with a frosty clang on the cross-ties. + Instantly the hammermen would pounce upon it. One would fall upon hands + and knees to “sight” it into place; two others would slide the squeaking + track-gage along its inner edge; a quartet, working like the component + parts of a faultless mechanism, would tap the fixing spikes into the wood; + and then at a signal a dozen of the heavy pointed hammers swung aloft and + a rhythmic volley of resounding blows clamped the rail into permanence on + its wooden bed. + </p> + <p> + Ahead of the steel-layers were the Italians placing the cross-ties in + position to receive the track, and here the foreman's badge of office and + scepter was a pick-handle. Above all the clamor and the shoutings Virginia + could hear the bull-bellow of this foreman roaring out his commands—in + terms happily not understandable to her; and once she drew back with a + little cry of womanly shrinking when the pick-handle thwacked upon the + shoulders of one who lagged. + </p> + <p> + It was this bit of brutality which enabled her to single out Winton in the + throng of workers. He heard the blow, and the oath that went with it, and + she saw him run forward to wrench the bludgeon from the bully's hands and + fling it afar. What words emphasized the act she could not hear, but the + little deed of swift justice thrilled her curiously, and her heart warmed + to him as it had when he had thrown off his coat to fall to work on the + derailed engine of the Limited. + </p> + <p> + “That was fine!” she said to herself. “Most men in his place wouldn't + care, so long as the work was done, and done quickly. I wonder if—oh, + you startled me!” + </p> + <p> + It was Mr. Somerville Darrah again, clothed upon and in his right mind; + otherwise the mind of a master of men who will brook neither defeat at the + hands of an antagonist nor disobedience on the part of his following. He + was scowling fiercely across at the Utah activities when she spoke, but at + her exclamation the frown softened into a smile for his favorite niece. + </p> + <p> + “Startled you, eh? Pahdon me, my deah Virginia. But as I am about to + startle some one else, perhaps you would better go in to your aunt.” + </p> + <p> + She put a hand on his arm. “Please let me stay out here, Uncle + Somerville,” she said. “I'll be good and not get in the way.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head, in deprecation rather than in refusal. + </p> + <p> + “An officer will be here right soon now to make an arrest. There may be a + fight, or at least trouble of a sort you wouldn't care to see, my deah.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it—is it Mr. Winton?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “What has he been doing—besides being 'The Enemy'?” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah's smile was ferocious. + </p> + <p> + “Just now he is trespassing, and directing others to trespass, upon + private property. Do you see that dump up there on the mountain?—the + hole that looks like a mouth with a long gray beard hanging below it? That + is a mine, and its claim runs down across the track where Misteh Winton is + just now spiking his rails.” + </p> + <p> + “But, I don't understand,” she began; then she stopped short and clung to + the strong arm. A man in a wide-flapped hat and cowboy <i>chaparejos</i>, + with a revolver on either hip, was crossing the stream on the ice-bridge + to scramble up the embankment of the new line. + </p> + <p> + “The officer?” she asked in an awed whisper. + </p> + <p> + The Rajah made a sign of assent. Then, identifying Winton in the throng of + workers, he forgot Virginia's presence. “Confound him!” he fumed. “I'd + give a thousand dollars if he'd faveh me by showing fight so we could lock + him up on a criminal count!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Uncle Somerville!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + But there was no time for reproaches. The leather-breeched person parading + as the Argentine town-marshal had climbed the embankment, and, singling + out his man, was reading his warrant. + </p> + <p> + Contrary to Mr. Darrah's expressed hope, Winton submitted quietly. With a + word to his men—a word that stopped the strenuous labor-battle as + suddenly as it had begun—he turned to pick his way down the rough + hillside at the heels of the marshal. + </p> + <p> + For some reason that she could never have set out in words Virginia was + distinctly disappointed. It was no part of her desire to see the conflict + blaze up in violence, but it nettled her to see Winton give up so easily. + Some such thought as this had possession of her while the marshal and his + prisoner were picking their way across the ice, and she was hoping that + Winton would give her a chance to requite him, if only with a look. + </p> + <p> + But it was Town-Marshal Peter Biggin, affectionately known to his + constituents as “Bigginjin Pete,” who gave her the coveted opportunity. + Instead of disappearing decently with his captive, the marshal made the + mistake of his life by marching Winton up the track to the private car, + thrusting him forward, and saying: “Here's yer meat, Guv'nor. What-all 'ud + ye like fer me to do with hit now I've got it?” + </p> + <p> + Now it is safe to assume that the Rajah had no intention of appearing thus + openly as the instigator of Winton's arrest. Hence, if a fierce scowl and + a wordless oath could maim, it is to be feared that the overzealous Mr. + Biggin would have been physically disqualified on the spot. As it was, Mr. + Darrah's ebullient wrath could find no adequate speech forms, and in the + eloquent little pause Winton had time to smile up at Miss Carteret and to + wish her the pleasantest of good-mornings. + </p> + <p> + But the Rajah's handicap was not permanent. + </p> + <p> + “Confound you, seh!” he exploded. “I'm not a justice of the peace! If + you've made an arrest, you must have had a warrant for it, and you ought + to know what to do with your prisoneh.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm dashed if I do,” objected the simple-hearted Mr. Biggin. “I allowed + you wanted him.” + </p> + <p> + Winton laughed openly. + </p> + <p> + “Simplify it for him, Mr. Darrah. We all know that it was your move to + stop the work, and you have stopped it—for the moment. What is the + charge, and where is it answerable?” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah dropped the mask and spoke to the point. + </p> + <p> + “The cha'ge, seh, is trespass, and it is answerable in Judge Whitcomb's + cou't in Carbonate. The plaintiff in this particular case is John Doe, the + supposable owneh of that mining claim up yondeh. In the next it will + probably be Richa'd Roe. You are fighting a losing battle, seh.” + </p> + <p> + Winton's smile showed his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “That remains to be seen,” he countered coolly. + </p> + <p> + The Rajah waved a shapely hand toward the opposite embankment, where the + tracklayers were idling in silent groups waiting for some one in authority + to tell them what to do. + </p> + <p> + “We can do that every day, Misteh Winton. And each separate individual + arrest will cost your company twelve hours, or such a matteh—the + time required for you to go to Carbonate to give bond for your + appearance.” + </p> + <p> + During this colloquy Virginia had held her ground stubbornly, this though + she felt intuitively that it would be the greatest possible relief to all + three of these men if she would go away. + </p> + <p> + But now a curious struggle as of a divided allegiance was holding her. Of + course, she wanted Mr. Somerville Darrah to win. Since he was its + advocate, his cause must be righteous and just. But against this dutiful + convincement there was a rebellious hope that Winton would not allow + himself to be beaten; or, rather, it was a feeling that she would never + forgive him if he should. + </p> + <p> + So it was that she stood with face averted lest he should see her eyes and + read the rebellious hope in them. And in spite of the precaution he both + saw and read, and made answer to the Rajah's ultimatum accordingly. + </p> + <p> + “Do your worst, Mr. Darrah. We have some twenty miles of steel to lay to + take us into the Carbonate yards. That steel shall go down in spite of + anything you can do to prevent it.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia waited breathless for her uncle's reply to this cool defiance. + Quite contrary to all precedent, it was mildly expostulatory. + </p> + <p> + “It grieves me, seh, to find you so determined to cou't failure,” he + began; and when the whistle of the upcoming Carbonate train gave him leave + to go on: “Constable, you will find transpo'tation for yourself and one in + the hands of the station agent. Misteh Winton, that is your train. I wish + you good-morning and a pleasant journey. Come, Virginia, we shall be late + to ouh breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + Winton walked back to the station at the heels of his captor, cudgeling + his brain to devise some means of getting word to Adams. Happily the + Technologian, who had been unloading steel at the construction camp, had + been told of the arrest, and when Winton reached the station he found his + assistant waiting for him. + </p> + <p> + But now the train was at hand and time had grown suddenly precious. Winton + turned short upon the marshal. + </p> + <p> + “This is not a criminal matter, Mr. Biggin: will you give me a moment with + my friend?” + </p> + <p> + The ex-cowboy grinned. “Bet your life I will. I ain't lovin' that old + b'iler-buster in the private car none too hard.” And he went in to get the + passes. + </p> + <p> + “What's up?” queried Adams, forgetting his drawl for once in a way. + </p> + <p> + “An arrest—trumped-up charge of trespass on that mining claim up + yonder. But I've got to go to Carbonate to answer the charge and give + bonds, just the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Any instructions?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. When the train is out of sight and hearing, you get back over there + and drive that track-laying for every foot there is in it.” + </p> + <p> + Adams nodded. “I'll do it, and get myself locked up, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you won't; that's the beauty of it. The majesty of the law—all + there is of it in Argentine—goes with me to Carbonate in the person + of the town-marshal.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, good—succulently good! Well, so long. I'll look for you back on + the evening train?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” was the confident reply, “if the Rajah doesn't order it to be + abandoned on my poor account.” + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later, when the train had gone storming on its way to + Carbonate and the Rosemary party was at breakfast, the clank of steel and + the chanteys of the hammermen on the other side of the canyon began again + with renewed vigor. The Rajah threw up his head like a war-horse scenting + the battle from afar and laid his commands upon the long-suffering + secretary. + </p> + <p> + “Faveh me, Jastrow. Get out there and see what they are doing, seh.” + </p> + <p> + The secretary was back in the shortest possible interval, and his report + was concise and business-like. + </p> + <p> + “Work under full headway again, in charge of a fellow who wears a + billy-cock hat and smokes cigarettes.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Morton P. Adams,” said Virginia, recognizing the description. “Will + you have him arrested too, Uncle Somerville?” + </p> + <p> + But the Rajah rose hastily without replying and went to his office + state-room, followed, shadow-like, by the obsequious Jastrow. + </p> + <p> + It was some little time after breakfast, and Virginia and the Reverend + Billy were doing a constitutional on the plank platform at the station, + when the secretary came down from the car on his way to the telegraph + office. + </p> + <p> + It was Virginia who stopped him. “What do we do next, Mr. Jastrow?” she + said; “call in the United States Army?” + </p> + <p> + For reply he handed her a telegram, damp from the copying press. It was + addressed to the superintendent of the C. G. R. at Carbonate, and she read + it without scruple. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Have the Sheriff of Ute County swear in a dozen deputies and come + with them by special train to Argentine. Revive all possible titles + to abandoned mining claims on line of the Utah Extension, and have + Sheriff Deckert bring blank warrants to cover any emergency. + + “DARRAH V.-P.” + </pre> + <p> + “That's one of them,” said the secretary. “I daren't show you the other.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, please!” she said, holding out her hand, while the Reverend Billy + considerately turned his back. + </p> + <p> + Jastrow weighed the chances of detection. It was little enough he could do + to lay her under obligations to him, and he was willing to do that little + as he could. “I guess I can trust you,” he said, and gave her the second + square of press-damp paper. + </p> + <p> + Like the first, it was addressed to the superintendent at Carbonate. But + this time the brown eyes flashed and her breath came quickly as she read + the vice-president's cold-blooded after-thought: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Town-Marshal Biggin will arrive in Carbonate on Number 201 this + A.M. with a prisoner. Have our attorneys see to it that the man is + promptly jailed in default of bond. If he is set at liberty, as he + is likely to be, I shall trust you to arrange for his rearrest and + detention at all hazards. + + “D.” + </pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. THE LANDSLIDE + </h2> + <p> + Virginia took the first step in the perilous path of the strategist when + she handed the incendiary telegram back to Jastrow. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Mr. Winton!” she said, with the real sympathy in the words made most + obviously perfunctory by the tone. “What a world of possibilities there is + masquerading behind that little word 'arrange.' Tell me more about it, Mr. + Jastrow. How will they 'arrange' it?” + </p> + <p> + “Winton's rearrest? Nothing easier in a tough mining-camp like Carbonate, + I should say.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but how?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't prophesy how Grafton will go about it, but I know what I should + do.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia's smile was irresistible, but there was a look in the deepest + depth of the brown eyes that was sifting Mr. Arthur Jastrow to the + innermost sand-heap of his desert nature. + </p> + <p> + “How would you do it, Mr. Napoleon Jastrow?” she asked, giving him the + exact fillip on the side of gratified vanity. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'd fix him. He is in a frame of mind right now; and by the time the + lawyers are through drilling him in the trespass affair, he'll be just + spoiling for a row with somebody.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so? Oh, how delicious! And then what?” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'd hire some plug-ugly to stumble up against him and pick a quarrel + with him. He'd do the rest—and land in the lock-up.” + </p> + <p> + Those who knew her best said it was a warning to be heeded in Miss + Virginia Carteret when her eyes were downcast and her voice sank to its + softest cadence. + </p> + <p> + “Why, certainly; how simple!” she said, taking her cousin's arm again; and + the secretary went in to set the wires at work in Winton's affair. + </p> + <p> + Now Miss Carteret was a woman in every fiber of her, but among her gifts + she might have counted some that were, to say the least, super-feminine. + One of these was a measure of discretion which would have been fairly + creditable in a past master of diplomacy. So, while the sympathetic part + of her was crying out for a chance to talk Winton's threatened danger over + with some one, she lent herself outwardly to the Reverend Billy's mood—which + was one of scenic enthusiasm; this without prejudice to a growing + determination to intervene in behalf of fair play for Winton if she could + find a way. + </p> + <p> + But the way obstinately refused to discover itself. The simple thing to do + would be to appeal to her uncle's sense of justice. It was not like him to + fight with ignoble weapons, she thought, and a tactful word in season + might make him recall the order to the superintendent. But she could not + make the appeal without betraying Jastrow. She knew well enough that the + secretary had no right to show her the telegrams; knew also that Mr. + Somerville Darrah's first word would be a demand to know how she had + learned the company's business secrets. Regarding Jastrow as little as a + high-bred young woman to whom sentiment is as the breath of life can + regard a man who is quite devoid of it, she was still far enough from the + thought of effacing him. + </p> + <p> + To this expedient there was an unhopeful alternative: namely, the sending, + by the Reverend Billy, or, in the last resort, by herself, of a warning + message to Winton. But there were obstacles seemingly insuperable. She had + not the faintest notion of how such a warning should be addressed; and + again, the operator at Argentine was a Colorado and Grand River employee, + doubtless loyal to his salt, in which case the warning message would never + get beyond his waste-basket. + </p> + <p> + “Getting too chilly for you out here? Want to go in?” asked the Reverend + Billy, when the scenic enthusiasm began to outwear itself. + </p> + <p> + “No; but I am tired of the sentry-go part of it—ten steps and a + turn,” she confessed. “Can't we walk on the track a little way?” + </p> + <p> + Calvert saw no reason why they might not, and accordingly helped her over + to the snow-encrusted path between the rails. + </p> + <p> + “We can trot down and have a look at their construction camp, if you + like,” he suggested, and thitherward they went. + </p> + <p> + There was not much to see, after all, as the Reverend Billy remarked when + they had reached a coign of vantage below the curve. A string of use-worn + bunk cars; a “dinkey” caboose serving as the home on wheels of the chief + of construction and his assistant; a crooked siding with a gang of + dark-skinned laborers at work unloading a car of steel. These in the + immediate foreground; and a little way apart, perched high enough on the + steep slope of the mountain side to be out of the camp turmoil, a small + structure, half plank and half canvas—to wit, the end-of-track + telegraph office. + </p> + <p> + It was Virginia who first marked the boxed-up tent standing on the slope. + </p> + <p> + “What do you suppose that little house-tent is for?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Calvert. Then he saw the wires and ventured a guess + which hit the mark. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't suppose they would have a telegraph office,” she commented, with + hope rising again. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; they'd have to have a wire—one of their own. Under the + circumstances they could hardly use ours.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she rejoined absently. She was scanning the group of steel-handlers + in the hope that a young man in a billy-cock hat and with a cigarette + between his lips would shortly reveal himself. She found him after a time + and turned quickly to her cousin. + </p> + <p> + “There is Mr. Adams down by the engine. Do you think he would come over + and speak to us if he knew we were here?” + </p> + <p> + The Reverend Billy's smile was of honest admiration. + </p> + <p> + “How could you doubt it? Wait here a minute and I'll call him for you.” + </p> + <p> + He was gone before she could reply—across the ice-bridge spanning + one of the pools, and up the rough, frozen embankment of the new line. + There were armed guards here, too, as well as at the front, and one of + them halted him at the picket line. But Adams saw and recognized him, and + presently the two were crossing to where Virginia stood waiting for them. + </p> + <p> + “Eheu! what a little world we live in, Miss Virginia! Who would have + thought of meeting you here?” said Adams, taking her hand at the precise + elevation prescribed by good form—Boston good form. + </p> + <p> + “The shock is mutual,” she laughed. “I must say that you and Mr. Winton + have chosen a highly unconventional environment for your sketching-field.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm down,” he admitted cheerfully; “please don't trample on me. But + really, it wasn't all fib. Jack does do things with a pencil—other + things besides maps and working profiles, I mean. Won't you come over and + let me do the honors of the studio?”—with a grandiloquent arm-sweep + meant to include the construction camp in general and the “dinkey” + caboose-car in particular. + </p> + <p> + It was the invitation she would have angled for, but she was too wise to + assent too readily. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; I think we mustn't. I'm afraid Mr. Winton might not like it.” + </p> + <p> + “Not like it? If you'll come he'll never forgive himself for not being + here to 'shoot up' the camp for you in person. He is away, you know; gone + to Carbonate for the day.” + </p> + <p> + “Ought we to go, Cousin Billy?” she asked, shifting, not the decision, but + the responsibility for it, to broader shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Why not, if you care to?” said the athlete, to whom right-of-way fights + were mere matters of business in no wise conflicting with the social + ameliorations. + </p> + <p> + Virginia hesitated. There was a thing to be said to Mr. Adams, and that + without delay; but how could she say it with her cousin standing by to + make an impossible trio out of any attempted duet confidential? A + willingness to see that Winton had fair play need not carry with it an + open desertion to the enemy. She must not forget to be loyal to her salt; + and, besides, Mr. Somerville Darrah's righteous indignation was a + possibility not lightly to be ignored. + </p> + <p> + But, the upshot of the hesitant pause was a decision to brave the + consequences—all of them; so she took Calvert's arm for the slippery + crossing of the ice-bridge. + </p> + <p> + Once on his own domain, Adams did the honors of the camp as thoroughly and + conscientiously as if the hour held no care heavier than the entertainment + of Miss Virginia Carteret. He explained the system under which the + material was kept moving forward to the ever-advancing front; let her + watch the rhythmic swing and slide of the rails from the car to the + benches; took her up into the cab of the big “octopod” locomotive; gave + her a chance to peep into the camp kitchen car; and concluded by handing + her up the steps of the “dinkey.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how comfortable!” she exclaimed, when he had shown her all the + space-saving contrivances of the field office. “And this is where you and + Mr. Winton work?” + </p> + <p> + “It is where we eat and sleep,” corrected Adams. “And speaking of eating: + it is hopelessly the wrong end of the day,—or it would be in Boston,—but + our Chinaman won't know the difference. Let me have him make you a dish of + tea,”—and the order was given before she could protest. + </p> + <p> + “While we are waiting for Ah Foo I'll show you some of Jack's sketches,” + he went on, finding a portfolio and opening it upon the drawing-board. + </p> + <p> + “Are you quite sure Mr. Winton won't mind?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Mind? He'd give a month's pay to be here to show them himself. He is + peacock vain of his one small accomplishment, Winton is—bores me to + death with it sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” was the mocking rejoinder, and they began to look at the + sketches. + </p> + <p> + They were heads, most of them, impressionistic studies in pencil or + pastel, with now and then a pen-and-ink bearing evidence of more + painstaking after-work. They were made on bits of map paper, the backs of + old letters, and not a few on leaves torn from an engineer's note-book. + </p> + <p> + “They don't count for much in an artistic way,” said Adams, with the + brutal frankness of a friendly critic, “but they will serve to show you + that I wasn't all kinds of an embroiderer when I was telling you about + Winton's proclivities the other day.” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't apologize for that, if I were you,” she retorted. “It is well + past apology, don't you think?” And then: “What is this one?” + </p> + <p> + They had come to the last of the sketches, which was a rude map. It was + penciled on the leaf of a memorandum, and Adams recognized it as the + outline Winton had made and used in explaining the right-of-way + entanglement. + </p> + <p> + “It is a map,” he said; “one that Jack drew day before yesterday when he + was trying to make me understand the situation up here. I wonder why he + kept it? Is there anything on the other side?” + </p> + <p> + She turned the leaf, and they both went speechless for the moment. The + reverse of the scrap of cross-ruled paper held a very fair likeness of a + face which Virginia's mirror had oftenest portrayed: a sketch setting + forth in a few vigorous strokes of the pencil the impressionist's ideal of + the “goddess fresh from the bath.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” exclaimed Adams, when he could find the word for his surprise. + Then he tried to turn it off lightly. “There is a good bit more of the + artist in Jack than I have been giving him credit for. Don't you know, he + must have got the notion for that between two half-seconds—when you + recognized me on the platform at Kansas City. It's wonderful!” + </p> + <p> + “So very wonderful that I think I shall keep it,” she rejoined, not + without a touch of austerity. Then she added: “Mr. Winton will probably + never miss it. If he does, you will have to explain the best way you can.” + And Adams could only say “By Jove!” again, and busy himself with pouring + the tea which Ah Foo had brought in. + </p> + <p> + In the nature of things the tea-drinking in the stuffy “dinkey” + drawing-room was not prolonged. Time was flying. Virginia's errand of + mercy was not yet accomplished, and Aunt Martha in her character of + anxious chaperon was not to be forgotten. Also, Miss Carteret had a + feeling that under his well-bred exterior Mr. Morton P. Adams was chafing + like any barbarian industry captain at this unwarrantable intrusion and + interruption. + </p> + <p> + So presently they all forthfared into the sun-bright, snow-blinding, + out-of-door world, and Virginia gathered up her courage and took her + dilemma by the horns. + </p> + <p> + “I believe I have seen everything now except that tent-place up there,” + she asserted, groping purposefully for her opening. + </p> + <p> + Adams called up another smile of acquiescence. “That is our telegraph + office. Would you care to see it?” He was of those who shirk all or shirk + nothing. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know why I should care to, but I do,” she replied, with charming + and childlike wilfulness; so the three of them trudged up the slippery + path to the operator's den on the slope. + </p> + <p> + Not to evade his hospitable duty in any part, Adams explained the use and + need of a “front” wire, and Miss Carteret was properly interested. + </p> + <p> + “How convenient!” she commented. “And you can come up here and talk to + anybody you like—just as if it were a telephone?” + </p> + <p> + “To anyone in the company's service,” amended Adams. “It is not a + commercial wire.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let us send a message to Mr. Winton,” she suggested, playing the + part of the capricious <i>ingenue</i> to the very upcast of a pair of + mischievous eyes. “I'll write it and you may sign it.” + </p> + <p> + Adams stretched his complaisance the necessary additional inch and gave + her a pencil and a pad of blanks. She wrote rapidly: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Miss Carteret has been here admiring your drawings. She took one of + them away with her, and I couldn't stop her without being rude. You + shouldn't have done it without asking her permission. She says—” + </pre> + <p> + “Oh, dear! I am making it awfully long. Does it cost so much a word?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Adams, not without an effort. He was beginning to be distinctly + disappointed in Miss Virginia, and was inwardly wondering what piece of + girlish frivolity he was expected to sign and send to his chief. Meanwhile + she went on writing: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “—I am to tell you not to get into any fresh trouble—not to let + anyone else get you into trouble; by which I infer she means that + some attempt will be made to keep you from returning on the evening + train.” + </pre> + <p> + “There, can you send all that?” she asked sweetly, giving the pad to her + host. + </p> + <p> + Adams read the first part of the letter length telegram with inward + groanings, but the generous purpose of it struck him like a whip-blow when + he came to the thinly-veiled warning. Also it shamed him for his unworthy + judgment of Virginia. + </p> + <p> + “I thank you very heartily, Miss Carteret,” he said humbly. “It shall be + sent word for word.” Then, for the Reverend William's benefit: “Winton + deserves all sorts of a snubbing for taking liberties with your portrait. + I'll see he gets more when he comes back.” + </p> + <p> + Here the matter rested; and, having done what she conceived to be her + charitable duty, Virginia was as anxious to get away as heart—the + heart of a slightly bored Reverend Billy, for instance—could wish. + </p> + <p> + So they bade Adams good-by and picked their way down the frozen embankment + and across the ice-bridge; down and across and back to the Rosemary, where + they found a perturbed chaperon in a flutter of solicitude arising upon + their mysterious disappearance and long absence. + </p> + <p> + “It may be just as well not to tell any of them where we have been,” said + Virginia in an aside to her cousin. And so the incident of tea-drinking in + the enemy's camp was safely put away like a little personal note in its + envelop with the flap gummed down. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. THE RAJAH GIVES AN ORDER + </h2> + <p> + While Adams was dispensing commissary tea in iron-stone china cups to his + two guests in the “dinkey” field office, his chief, taking the Rosemary's + night run in reverse in the company of Town-Marshal Biggin, was turning + the Rajah's coup into a small Utah profit. + </p> + <p> + Having come upon the ground late the night before, and from the opposite + direction, he had seen nothing of the extension grade west of Argentine. + Hence the enforced journey to Carbonate only anticipated an inspection + trip which he had intended to make as soon as he had seated Adams firmly + in the track-laying saddle. + </p> + <p> + Not to miss his opportunity, at the first curve beyond Argentine he passed + his cigar-case to Biggin and asked permission to ride on the rear platform + of the day-coach for inspection purposes. + </p> + <p> + “Say, pardner, what do you take me fer, anyhow?” was the reproachful + rejoinder. + </p> + <p> + “For a gentleman in disguise,” said Winton promptly. + </p> + <p> + “Sim'larly, I do you; savvy? You tell me you ain't goin' to stampede, and + you ride anywhere you blame please. See? This here C. G. R. outfit ain't + got no surcingle on me.” + </p> + <p> + Winton smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I haven't any notion of stampeding. As it happens, I'm only a day ahead + of time. I should have made this run to-morrow of my own accord to have a + look at the extension grade. You will find me on the rear platform when + you want me.” + </p> + <p> + “Good enough,” was the reply; and Winton went to his post of observation. + </p> + <p> + Greatly to his satisfaction, he found that the trip over the C. G. R. + answered every purpose of a preliminary inspection of the Utah grade + beyond Argentine. For seventeen of the twenty miles the two lines were + scarcely more than a stone's throw apart, and when Biggin joined him at + the junction above Carbonate he had his note-book well filled with the + necessary data. + </p> + <p> + “Make it, all right?” inquired the friendly bailiff. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, thanks. Have another cigar?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't care if I do. Say, that old fire-eater back yonder in the private + car has got a mighty pretty gal, ain't he?” + </p> + <p> + “The young lady is his niece,” said Winton, wishing that Mr. Biggin would + find other food for comment. + </p> + <p> + “I don't care; she's pretty as a Jersey two-year-old.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a fine day,” observed Winton; and then, to background Miss Carteret + effectually as a topic: “How do the people of Argentine feel about the + opposition to our line?” + </p> + <p> + “They're red-hot; you can put your money on that. The C. G. R.'s a + sure-enough tail-twister where there ain't no competition. Your road'll + get every pound of ore in the camp if it ever gets through.” + </p> + <p> + Winton made a mental note of this up-cast of public opinion, and set it + over against the friendly attitude of the official Mr. Biggin. It was very + evident that the town-marshal was serving the Rajah's purpose only because + he had to. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you stand with your townsmen on that, don't you?” he ventured. + </p> + <p> + “Now you're shouting: that's me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then if that is the case, we won't take this little holiday of ours any + harder than we can help. When the court business is settled—it won't + take very long—you are to consider yourself my guest. We stop at the + Buckingham.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we do, do we? Say, pardner, that's white—mighty white. If I'd + 'a' been an inch or so more'n half awake this morning when that old + b'iler-buster's hired man routed me out, I'd 'a' told him to go to blazes + with his warrant. Nex' time I will.” + </p> + <p> + Winton shook his head. “There isn't going to be any 'next time,' Peter, my + son,” he prophesied. “When Mr. Darrah gets fairly down to business he'll + throw bigger chunks than the Argentine town-marshal at us.” + </p> + <p> + By this time the train was slowing into Carbonate, and a few minutes after + the stop at the crowded platform they were making their way up the single + bustling street of the town to the court-house. + </p> + <p> + “Ever see so many tin-horns and bunco people bunched in all your + round-ups?” said Biggin, as they elbowed through the uneasy shifting + groups in front of the hotel. + </p> + <p> + “Not often,” Winton admitted. “But it's the luck of the big camps: they + are the dumping-grounds of the world while the high pressure is on.” + </p> + <p> + The ex-range-rider turned on the courthouse steps to look the sidewalk + loungers over with narrowing eyes. + </p> + <p> + “There's Sheeny Mike and Big Otto and half a dozen others right there in + front o' the Buckingham that couldn't stay to breathe twice in Argentine. + And this town's got a po-lice!”—the comment with lip-curling scorn. + </p> + <p> + “It also has a county court which is probably waiting for us,” said + Winton; whereupon they went in to appease the offended majesty of the law. + </p> + <p> + As Winton had predicted, his answer to the court summons was a mere + formality. On parting with his chief at the Argentine station platform, + Adams' first care had been to wire news of the arrest to the Utah + headquarters. Hence Winton found the company's attorney waiting for him in + Judge Whitcomb's courtroom, and his release on an appearance bond was only + a matter of moments. + </p> + <p> + The legal affair dismissed, there ensued a weary interval of time-killing. + There was no train back to Argentine until nearly five o'clock in the + afternoon, and the hours dragged heavily for the two, who had nothing to + do but wait. Biggin endured his part of it manfully till the midday dinner + had been discussed; then he drifted off with one of Winton's cigars + between his teeth, saying that he should “take poison” and shoot up the + town if he could not find some more peaceful means of keeping his blood in + circulation. + </p> + <p> + It was a little after three o'clock, and Winton was sitting at the + writing-table in the lobby of the hotel elaborating his hasty notebook + data of the morning's inspection, when a boy came in with a telegram. The + young engineer was not so deeply engrossed in his work as to be deaf to + the colloquy. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. John Winton? Yes, he is here somewhere,” said the clerk in answer to + the boy's question; and after an identifying glance: “There he is—over + at the writing-table.” + </p> + <p> + Winton turned in his chair and saw the boy coming toward him; also he saw + the ruffian pointed out by Biggin from the court-house steps and labeled + “Sheeny Mike” lounging up to the clerk's desk for a whispered exchange of + words with the bediamonded gentleman behind it. + </p> + <p> + What followed was cataclysmic in its way. The lounger took three + staggering lurches toward Winton, brushed the messenger boy aside, and + burst out in a storm of maudlin invective. + </p> + <p> + “Sign yerself 'Winton' now, do yet ye lowdown, turkey-trodden—” + </p> + <p> + “One minute,” said Winton curtly, taking the telegram from the boy and + signing for it. + </p> + <p> + “I'll give ye more'n ye can carry away in less'n half that time—see?” + was the minatory retort; and the threat was made good by an awkward buffet + which would have knocked the engineer out of his chair if he had remained + in it. + </p> + <p> + Now Winton's eyes were gray and steadfast, but his hair was of that shade + of brown which takes the tint of dull copper in certain lights, and he had + a temper which went with the red in his hair rather than with the gray in + his eyes. Wherefore his attempt to placate his assailant was something + less than diplomatic. + </p> + <p> + “You drunken scoundrel!” he snapped. “If you don't go about your business + and let me alone, I'll turn you over to the police with a broken bone or + two!” + </p> + <p> + The bully's answer was a blow delivered straight from the shoulder—too + straight to harmonize with the fiction of drunkenness. Winton saw the + sober purpose in it and went battle-mad, as a hasty man will. Being a + skilful boxer,—which his antagonist was not,—he did what he + had to do neatly and with commendable despatch. Down, up; down, up; down a + third time, and then the bystanders interfered. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on!” + </p> + <p> + “That'll do!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you see he's drunk?” + </p> + <p> + “Enough's as good as a feast—let him go.” + </p> + <p> + Winton's blood was up, but he desisted, breathing threatenings. Whereat + Biggin shouldered his way into the circle. + </p> + <p> + “Pay your bill and let's hike out o' this, <i>pronto</i>!” he said in a + low tone. “You ain't got no time to fool with a Carbonate justice shop.” + </p> + <p> + But Winton was not to be brought to his senses so easily. + </p> + <p> + “Run away from that swine? Not if I know it. Let him take it into court if + he wants to. I'll be there, too.” + </p> + <p> + The beaten one was up now and apparently looking for an officer. + </p> + <p> + “I'm takin' ye all to witness,” he rasped. “I was on'y askin' him to cash + up what he lost to me las' night, and he jumps me. But I'll stick him if + there's any law in this camp.” + </p> + <p> + Now all this time Winton had been holding the unopened telegram crumpled + in his fist, but when Biggin pushed him out of the circle and thrust him + up to the clerk's desk, he bethought him to read the message. It was + Virginia's warning, signed by Adams, and a single glance at the closing + sentence was enough to cool him suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “Pay the bill, Biggin, and join me in the billiard-room, quick!” he + whispered, pressing money into the town-marshal's hand and losing himself + in the crowd. And when Biggin had obeyed his instructions: “Now for a back + way out of this, if there is one. We'll have to take to the hills till + train time.” + </p> + <p> + They found a way through the bar and out into a side street leading + abruptly up to the spruce-clad hills behind the town. Biggin held his + peace until they were safe from immediate danger of pursuit. Then his + curiosity got the better of him. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't take you more'n a week to change your mind about pullin' it off + with that tinhorn scrapper in the courts, did it?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Winton. + </p> + <p> + “'Tain't none o' my business, but I'd like to know what stampeded you.” + </p> + <p> + “A telegram,”—shortly. “It was a put-up job to have me locked up on + a criminal charge, and so hold me out another day.” + </p> + <p> + Biggin grinned. “The old b'iler-buster again. Say, he's a holy terror, + ain't he?” + </p> + <p> + “He doesn't mean to let me build my railroad if he can help it.” + </p> + <p> + The ex-cowboy found his sack of chip tobacco and dexterously rolled a + cigarette in a bit of brown wrapping-paper. + </p> + <p> + “If that's the game, Mr. Sheeny Mike, or his backers, will be most likely + to play it to a finish, don't you guess?” + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “By havin' a po-liceman layin' for you at the train.” + </p> + <p> + “I hadn't thought of that.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can think you out of it, I reckon. The branch train is a + 'commodation, and it'll stop most anywhere if you throw up your hand at + it. We can take out through the woods and across the hills, and mog up the + track a piece. How'll that do?” + </p> + <p> + “It will do for me, but there is no need of your tramping when you can + just as well ride.” + </p> + <p> + But now that side of Mr. Peter Biggin which endears him and his kind to + every man who has ever shared his lonely round-ups, or broken bread with + him in his comfortless shack, came uppermost. + </p> + <p> + “What do you take me fer?” was the way it vocalized itself; but there was + more than a formal oath of loyal allegiance in the curt question. + </p> + <p> + “For a man and a brother,” said Winton heartily; and they set out together + to waylay the outgoing train at some point beyond the danger limit. + </p> + <p> + It was accomplished without further mishap, and the short winter day was + darkening to twilight when the train came in sight and the engineer slowed + to their signal. They climbed aboard, and when they had found a seat in + the smoker the chief of construction spoke to the ex-cowboy as to a + friend. + </p> + <p> + “I hope Adams has knocked out a good day's work for us,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Your pardner with the store hat and the stinkin' cigaroots?—he's + all right,” said Biggin; and it so chanced that at the precise moment of + the saying the subject of it was standing with the foreman of track-layers + at a gap in the new line just beyond and above the Rosemary's siding at + Argentine, his day's work ended, and his men loaded on the flats for the + run down to camp over the lately-laid rails of the lateral loop. + </p> + <p> + “Not such a bad day, considering the newness of us and the bridge at the + head of the gulch,” he said, half to himself. And then more pointedly to + the foreman: “Bridge-builders to the front at the first crack of dawn, + Mike. Why wasn't this break filled in the grading?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure, sorr, 'tis a dhrain it is,” said the Irishman; “from the placer up + beyant,” he added, pointing to a washed-out excoriation on the steep upper + slope of the mountain. “Major Evarts did be tellin' us we'd have the + lawyers afther us hot-fut again if we didn't be lavin' ut open the full + width.” + </p> + <p> + “Mmph!” said Adams, looking the ground over with a critical eye. “It's a + bad bit. It wouldn't take much to bring that whole slide down on us if it + wasn't frozen solid. Who owns the placer?” + </p> + <p> + “Two fellies over in Carbonate. The company did be thryin' to buy the + claim, but the sharps wouldn't sell—bein' put up to hold ut by thim + C. G. R. divils. It's more throuble we'll be havin' here, I'm thinking.” + </p> + <p> + While they lingered a shrill whistle, echoing like an eldrich laugh among + the cliffs of the upper gorge, announced the coming of a train from the + direction of Carbonate. Adams looked at his watch. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to know what that is,” he mused. “It's an hour too soon for the + accommodation. By Jove!” + </p> + <p> + The exclamation directed itself at a one-car train which came thundering + down the canyon to pull in on the siding beyond the Rosemary. The car was + a passenger coach, well-lighted, and from his post on the embankment Adams + could see armed men filling the windows. Michael Branagan saw them, too, + and the fighting Celt in him rose to the occasion. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis Donnybrook Fair we've come to this time, Misther Adams. Shall I call + up the b'ys wid their guns?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet. Let's wait and see what happens.” + </p> + <p> + What happened was a peaceful sortie. Two men, each with a kit of some kind + borne in a sack, dropped from the car, crossed the creek, and struggled up + the hill through the unbridged gap. Adams waited until they were fairly on + the right of way, then he called down to them. + </p> + <p> + “Halt, there! you two. This is corporation property.” + </p> + <p> + “Not much it ain't!” retorted one of the trespassers gruffly. “It's the + drain-way from our placer up yonder.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do up there at this time of night?” + </p> + <p> + “None o' your blame business!” was the explosive counter-shot. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it isn't,” said Adams mildly. “Just the same, I'm thirsting to + know. Call it vulgar curiosity if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, you can know, and be cussed to you. We're goin' to work our + claim. Got anything to say against it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! no,” rejoined Adams; and when the twain had disappeared in the upper + darkness he went down the grade with Branagan and took his place on the + man-loaded flats for the run to the construction camp, thinking more of + the lately-arrived car with its complement of armed men than of the two + miners who had calmly announced their intention of working a placer claim + on a high mountain, without water, and in the dead of winter! By which it + will be seen that Mr. Morton P. Adams, C. E. M. I. T. Boston, had + something yet to learn in the matter of practical field work. + </p> + <p> + By the time Ah Foo had served him his solitary supper in the dinkey he had + quite forgotten the incident of the mysterious placer miners. Worse than + this, it had never occurred to him to connect their movements with the + Rajah's plan of campaign. On the other hand, he was thinking altogether of + the carload of armed men, and trying to devise some means of finding out + how they were to be employed in furthering the Rajah's designs. + </p> + <p> + The means suggested themselves after supper, and he went alone over to + Argentine to spend a half-hour in the bar of the dance-hall listening to + the gossip of the place. When he had learned what he wanted to know, he + forthfared to meet Winton at the incoming train. + </p> + <p> + “We are in for it now,” he said, when they had crossed the creek to the + dinkey and the Chinaman was bringing Winton's belated supper. “The Rajah + has imported a carload of armed mercenaries, and he is going to clean us + all out to-morrow: arrest everybody from the gang foremen up.” + </p> + <p> + Winton's eyebrows lifted. “So? that is a pretty large contract. Has he men + enough to do it?” + </p> + <p> + “Not so many men. But they are sworn-in deputies, with the sheriff of Ute + County in command—a posse, in fact. So he has the law on his side.” + </p> + <p> + “Which is more than he had when he set a thug on me this afternoon at + Carbonate,” said Winton sourly; and he told Adams about the + misunderstanding in the lobby of the Buckingham. His friend whistled under + his breath. “By Jove! that's pretty rough. Do you suppose the Rajah + dictated any such Lucretia Borgia thing as that?” + </p> + <p> + Winton took time to think about it and admitted a doubt, as he had not + before. Believing Mr. Somerville Darrah fit for treasons, stratagems, and + spoils in his official capacity of vice-president of a fighting + corporation, he was none the less disposed to find excuses for Miss + Virginia Carteret's uncle. + </p> + <p> + “I did think so at first, but I guess it was only the misguided zeal of + some understrapper. Of course, word has gone out all along the C. G. R. + line that we are to be delayed by every possible expedient.” + </p> + <p> + But Adams shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Darrah dictated that move in his own proper person.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know that?” + </p> + <p> + “You had a message from me this afternoon?” + </p> + <p> + “I did.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you think of it?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you might have left out the first part of it; also that you + might have made the latter half a good bit more explicit.” + </p> + <p> + A slow smile spread itself over Adams' impassive face. + </p> + <p> + “Every man has his limitations,” he said. “I did the best I could. But the + Rajah knew very well what he was about—otherwise there would have + been no telegram.” + </p> + <p> + Winton sent the Chinaman out for another cup of tea before he said, “Did + Miss Carteret come here alone?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; Calvert came with her.” + </p> + <p> + “What brought them here?” + </p> + <p> + Adams spread his hands. + </p> + <p> + “What makes any woman do precisely the most unexpected thing?” + </p> + <p> + Winton was silent for a moment. Finally he said: “I hope you did what you + could to make it pleasant for her.” + </p> + <p> + “I did. And I didn't hear her complain.” + </p> + <p> + “That was low-down in you, Morty.” + </p> + <p> + Adams chuckled reminiscently. “Had to do it to make my + day-before-yesterday lie hold water. And she was immensely taken with the + scrawls, especially with one of them.” + </p> + <p> + Winton flushed under the bronze. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I don't need to ask which one.” + </p> + <p> + Adams' grin was a measure of his complacence. + </p> + <p> + “Well, hardly.” + </p> + <p> + “She took it away with her?” + </p> + <p> + “Took it, or tore it up, I forget which.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, Morty, was she very angry?” + </p> + <p> + The other took the last hint of laughter out of his eyes before he said + solemnly: “You'll never know how thankful I was that you were twenty miles + away.” + </p> + <p> + Winton's cup was full, and he turned the talk abruptly to the industrial + doings and accomplishments of the day. Adams made a verbal report which + led him by successive steps up to the twilight hour when he had stood with + Branagan on the brink of the placer drain, but, strangely enough, there + was no stirring of memory to recall the incident of the upward-climbing + miners. + </p> + <p> + When Winton rose he said something about mounting a night guard on the + engine, which was kept under steam at all hours; and shortly afterward he + left the dinkey ostensibly to do it, declining Adams' offer of company. + But once out-of-doors he climbed straight to the operator's tent on the + snow-covered slope. Carter had turned in, but he sat up in his bunk at the + noise of the intrusion. + </p> + <p> + “That you, Mr. Winton? Want to send something?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, go to sleep. I'll write a wire and leave it for you to send in the + morning.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down at the packing-case instrument table and wrote out a brief + report of the day's progress in track-laying for the general manager's + record. But when Carter's regular breathing told him he was alone he + pushed the pad aside, took down the sending-hook, and searched until he + had found the original copy of the message which had reached him at the + moment of cataclysms in the lobby of the Buckingham. + </p> + <p> + “Um,” he said, and his heart grew warm within him. “It's just about as I + expected: Morty didn't have anything whatever to do with it—except + to sign and send it as she commanded him to.” And the penciled sheet was + folded carefully and filed in permanence in the inner breast pocket of his + brown duck shooting-coat. + </p> + <p> + The moon was rising behind the eastern mountain when he extinguished the + candle and went out. Below lay the chaotic construction camp buried in + silence and in darkness save for the lighted windows of the dinkey. He was + not quite ready to go back to Adams, and after making a round of the camp + and bidding the engine watchman keep a sharp lookout against a possible + night surprise, he set out to walk over the newly-laid track of the day. + </p> + <p> + Another half-hour had elapsed, and a waning moon was clearing the topmost + crags of Pacific Peak when he came out on the high embankment opposite the + Rosemary, having traversed the entire length of the lateral loop and + inspected the trestle at the gulch head by the light of a blazing + spruce-branch. + </p> + <p> + The station with its two one-car trains, and the shacks of the little + mining-camp beyond, lay shimmering ghost-like in the new-born light of the + moon. The engine of the sheriff's car was humming softly with a note like + the distant swarming of bees, and from the dancehall in Argentine the + snort of a trombone and the tinkling clang of a cracked piano floated out + upon the frosty night air. + </p> + <p> + Winton turned to go back. The windows of the Rosemary were all dark, and + there was nothing to stay for. So he thought, at all events; but if he had + not been musing abstractedly upon things widely separated from his present + surroundings, he might have remarked two tiny stars of lantern-light high + on the placer ground above the embankment; or, failing the sight, he might + have heard the dull, measured <i>slumph</i> of a churn-drill burrowing + deep in the frozen earth of the slope. + </p> + <p> + As it was, a pair of brown eyes blinded him, and the tones of a voice + sweeter than the songs of Oberon's sea-maid filled his ears. Wherefore he + neither saw nor heard; and taking the short cut across the mouth of the + lateral gulch back to camp, he boarded the dinkey and went to bed without + disturbing Adams. + </p> + <p> + The morning of the day to come broke clear and still, with the stars + paling one by one at the pointing finger of the dawn, and the frost-rime + lying thick and white like a snowfall of erect and glittering needles on + iron and steel and wood. + </p> + <p> + Obedient to orders, the bridge-builders were getting out their hand-car at + the construction camp, the wheels shrilling merrily on the frosted rails, + and the men stamping and swinging their arms to start the sluggish + night-blood. Suddenly, like the opening gun of a battle, the dull rumble + of a mighty explosion trembled upon the still air, followed instantly by a + sound as of a passing avalanche. + </p> + <p> + Winton was out and running up the track before the camp was fairly + aroused. What he saw when he gained the hither side of the lateral gulch + was a sight to make a strong man weep. A huge landslide, starting from the + frozen placer ground high up on the western promontory, had swept every + vestige of track and embankment into the deep bed of the creek at a point + precisely opposite Mr. Somerville Darrah's private car. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. THE MAJESTY OF THE LAW + </h2> + <p> + Virginia was up and dressed when the sullen shock of the explosion set the + windows jarring in the Rosemary. + </p> + <p> + She hurried out upon the observation platform and so came to look upon the + ruin wrought by the landslide while the dust-like smoke of the dynamite + still hung in the air. + </p> + <p> + “Rather unlucky for our friends the enemy,” said a colorless voice behind + her; and she had an uncomfortable feeling that Jastrow had been lying in + wait for her. + </p> + <p> + She turned upon him quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Was it an accident, Mr. Jastrow?” + </p> + <p> + “How could it be anything else?” he inquired mildly. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. But there was an explosion: I heard it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is horribly unfair,” she went on. “I understand the sheriff is here. + Couldn't he have prevented this?” + </p> + <p> + The secretary's rejoinder was a platitude: “Everything is fair in love or + war.” + </p> + <p> + “But this is neither,” she retorted. + </p> + <p> + “Think not?” he said coolly. “Wait, and you'll see. And a word in your + ear, Miss Carteret: you are one of us, you know, and you mustn't be + disloyal. I know what you did yesterday after you read those telegrams.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia's face became suddenly wooden. Until that moment it had not + occurred to her that Jastrow's motive in showing her the two telegrams + might have been carefully calculated. + </p> + <p> + “I have never given you the right to speak to me that way, Mr. Jastrow,” + she said, with the faintest possible emphasis on the courtesy prefix; and + with that she turned from him to focus her field-glass on the construction + camp below. + </p> + <p> + At the Utah stronghold all was activity of the fiercest. Winton had raced + back with his news of the catastrophe, and the camp was alive with men + clustering like bees and swarming upon the flat-cars of the material-train + to be taken to the front. + </p> + <p> + While she looked, studiously ignoring the man behind her, Virginia saw the + big octopod engine clamoring up the grade. In a twinkling the men were off + and at work. + </p> + <p> + Virginia's color rose and the brown eyes filled swiftly. One part of her + ideal was courage of the sort that rises the higher for reverses. But at + the instant she remembered the secretary, and, lest he should spy upon her + emotion, she turned and took refuge in the car. + </p> + <p> + In the Rosemary the waiter was laying the plates for breakfast, and Bessie + and the Reverend William were at the window, watching the stirring + industry battle now in full swing on the opposite slope. Virginia joined + them. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it a shame!” she said. “Of course, I want our side to win; but it + seems such a pity that we can't fight fairly.” + </p> + <p> + Calvert said, “Isn't what a shame?” thereby eliciting a crisp explanation + from Virginia in which she set well-founded suspicion in the light of + fact. + </p> + <p> + The Reverend Billy shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Such things may be within the law—of business; but they will surely + breed bad blood—” + </p> + <p> + The interruption was the Rajah in his proper person, bustling out fiercely + to a conference with his Myrmidons. By tacit consent the three at the + window fell silent. + </p> + <p> + There was a hasty mustering of armed men under the windows of the + Rosemary, and they heard Sheriff Deckert's low-voiced instructions to his + posse. + </p> + <p> + “Take it slow and easy, boys, and don't get rattled. Now, then; guns to + the front! Steady!” + </p> + <p> + The Reverend Billy rose. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do?” said Virginia. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to give Winton a tip if it's the last thing I ever do.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head and pointed eastward to the mouth of the lateral gulch. + Under cover of a clump of evergreen-scrub a man in a wideflapped hat and + leather breeches was climbing swiftly to the level of the new line, + cautiously waving a handkerchief as a peace token. “That is the man who + arrested Mr. Winton yesterday. This time he is going to fight on the other + side. He'll carry the warning.” + </p> + <p> + “Think so?” said Calvert. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure of it. Open the window, please. I want to see better.” + </p> + <p> + As yet there was no sign of preparation on the embankment. For the moment + the rifles of the track force were laid aside, and every man was plying + pick or shovel. + </p> + <p> + Winton was in the thick of the pick-and-shovel melee, urging it on, when + Biggin ran up. + </p> + <p> + “Hi!” he shouted. “Fixin' to take another play-day in Carbonate? Lookee + down yonder!” + </p> + <p> + Winton looked and became alive to the possibilities in the turning of a + leaf. + </p> + <p> + “Guns!” he yelled; and at the word of command the tools were flung aside, + and the track force, over two hundred strong, became an army. + </p> + <p> + “Mulcahey, take half the men and go up the grade till you can rake those + fellows without hitting the car. Branagan, you take the other half and go + down till you can cross-fire with Mulcahey. Aim low, both of you; and the + man who fires before he gets the word from me will break his neck at a + rope's end. Fall in!” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” said Adams. “Are you going to resist? That spells felony, + doesn't it?” + </p> + <p> + Winton pointed to the waiting octopod. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to order the Two-fifteen down out of the way: you may go with + her if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess not!” quoth the assistant, calmly lighting a fresh cigarette. And + then to the water-boy, who was acting quartermaster: “Give me a rifle and + a cartridge-belt, Chunky, and I'll stay here with the boss.” + </p> + <p> + “And where do I come in?” said Biggin to Winton reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “You'll stay out, if your head's level. You've done enough already to send + you to Canyon City.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't a-forgettin' nothing,” said Peter cheerfully, casting himself + flat behind a heap of earth on the dump-edge. + </p> + <p> + While the sheriff's posse was picking its way gingerly over the loose rock + and earth dam formed by the landslide, the window went up in the Rosemary + and Winton saw Virginia. Without meaning to, she gave him his battle-word. + </p> + <p> + “We are a dozen Winchesters to your one, Mr. Deckert, and we shall resist + force with force. Order your men back or there will be trouble.” + </p> + <p> + Winton stood out on the edge of the cutting, a solitary figure where a few + minutes before the earth had been flying from a hundred shovels. + </p> + <p> + The sheriff's reply was an order, but not for retreat. + </p> + <p> + “He's one of the men we want; cover him!” he commanded. + </p> + <p> + Unless the public occasion appeals strongly to the sympathies or the + passions, a picked-up sheriff's posse is not likely to have very good + metal in it. Peter Biggin laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be no ways nervous,” he said in an aside to Winton. “Them + professional veniry chumps couldn't hit the side o' Pacific Peak.” + </p> + <p> + Winton held his ground, while the sheriff tried to drive his men up a bare + slope commanded by two hundred rifles to right and left. The attempt was a + humiliating failure. Being something less than soldiers trained to do or + die, the deputies hung back to a man. + </p> + <p> + Virginia could not forbear a smile. The sheriff burst into caustic + profanity. Whereupon Mr. Peter Biggin rose up and sent a bullet to plow a + little furrow in the ice within an inch of Deckert's heels. + </p> + <p> + “Ex-cuse <i>me</i>, Bart,” he drawled, “but no cuss words don't go.” + </p> + <p> + The sheriff ignored Peter Biggin as a person who could be argued with at + leisure and turned to Winton. + </p> + <p> + “Come down!” he bellowed. + </p> + <p> + Winton laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Let me return the invitation. Come up, and you may read your warrants to + us all day.” + </p> + <p> + Deckert withdrew his men, and at Winton's signal the track-layers came in + and the earth began to fly again. + </p> + <p> + Virginia sighed her relief, and Bessie plucked up courage to go to the + window, which she had deserted in the moment of impending battle. + </p> + <p> + “Breakfast is served,” announced the waiter as calmly as if the morning + meal were the only matter of consequence in a world of happenings. + </p> + <p> + They gathered about the table, a silent trio made presently a quartet by + the advent of Mrs. Carteret, who had neither seen nor heard anything of + the warlike episode with which the day had begun. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Darrah was late, so late that when he came in, Virginia was the only + one of the four who remained at table. She stayed to pour his coffee and + to bespeak peace. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Somerville, can't we win without calling in these horrid men with + their guns?” + </p> + <p> + A mere shadow of a grim smile came and went in the Rajah's eyes. + </p> + <p> + “An unprejudiced outsideh might say that the 'horrid men with their guns' + were on top of that embankment, my deah—ten to ouh one,” he + remarked. + </p> + <p> + “But I should think we might win in some other way,” Virginia persisted + undauntedly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Darrah pushed his plate aside and cleared his throat. + </p> + <p> + “For business reasons which you—ah—wouldn't undehstand, we + can't let the Utah finish this railroad of theirs into Carbonate this + winteh.” + </p> + <p> + “So much I have inferred. But Mr. Winton seems to be very determined.” + </p> + <p> + “Mmph! I wish Mr. Callowell had favehed us with some one else—any + one else. That young fellow is a bawn fighteh, my deah.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia had a bright idea, and she advanced it without examining too + closely into its ethical part. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Winton is working for wages, isn't he?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Of cou'se; big money, at that. His sawt come high.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, why can't you hire him away from the other people? Mr. Callowell + might not be so fortunate next time.” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah sat back in his chair and regarded her thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing my deah—nothing at all. I was just wondering how a woman's—ah—sense + of propo'tion was put togetheh. But your plan has merit. Do I understand + that you will faveh me with your help?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, ye-es, certainly, if I can,” she assented, not without dubiety. + “That is, I'll be nice to Mr. Winton.” + </p> + <p> + “That is precisely what I mean, my deah. We'll begin by having him heah to + dinneh this evening, him and the otheh young man—what's his name?—Adams.” + </p> + <p> + And the upshot of the matter was a dainty note which found its way by the + hands of the private-car porter to Winton, laboring manfully at his task + of repairing the landslide damages. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Somerville Darrah's compliments to Mr. John Winton and Mr. Morton P. + Adams, and he will be pleased if they will dine with the party in the car + Rosemary at seven o'clock. + </p> + <p> + “Informal. + </p> + <p> + “Wednesday, December the Ninth.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. THE GREEKS BRINGING GIFTS + </h2> + <p> + Adams said “By Jove!” in his most cynical drawl when Winton gave him the + dinner-bidding to read: then he laughed. + </p> + <p> + Winton recovered the dainty note, folding it carefully and putting it in + his pocket. The handwriting was the same as that of the telegram + abstracted from Operator Carter's sending-book. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see anything to laugh at,” he objected. + </p> + <p> + “No? First the Rajah sends the sheriff's posse packing without striking a + blow, and now he invites us to dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “You make me exceedingly tired at odd moments, Morty. Why can't you give + Mr. Darrah the credit of being what he really is at bottom—a + right-hearted Virginia gentleman of the old school?” + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean that you are going to accept!” said Adams, aghast. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; and so are you.” + </p> + <p> + There was no more to be said, and Adams held his peace while Winton + scribbled a line of acceptance on a leaf of his note-book and sent it + across to the Rosemary by the hand of the water-boy. + </p> + <p> + Their reception at the steps of the Rosemary was a generous proof of the + aptness of that aphorism which sums up the status <i>post bellum</i> in + the terse phrase, “After war, peace.” Mr. Darrah met them; was evidently + waiting for them. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, gentlemen; come in and be at home,”—this with a hand for + each. “Virginia allowed you wouldn't faveh us, but I assured her she + didn't rightly know men of the world: told her that a picayune business + affair in which we are all acting as corporation proxies needn't spell out + anything like a blood feud between gentlemen.” + </p> + <p> + For another man the informal table gathering might have been easily + prohibitive of confidences <i>a deux</i>, even with a Virginia Carteret to + help, but Winton was far above the trammelings of time and place. He had + eyes and ears only for the sweet-faced, low-voiced young woman beside him, + and some of his replies to the others were irrelevant enough to send a + smile around the board. + </p> + <p> + “How very absent-minded Mr. Winton seems to be this evening!” murmured + Bessie from her niche between Adams and the Reverend Billy at the farther + end of the table. “He isn't quite at his best, is he, Mr. Adams?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed,” said Adams, matching her undertone, “very far from it. He + has been a bit off all day: touch of mountain fever, I'm afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “But he doesn't look at all ill,” objected Miss Bessie. “I should say he + is a perfect picture of rude health.” + </p> + <p> + The coffee was served, and Mrs. Carteret was rising. Whereupon Miss + Virginia handed her cup to Adams, and so had him for her companion in the + tete-a-tete chair, leaving Winton to shift for himself. + </p> + <p> + The shifting process carried him over to the Rajah and the Reverend Billy, + to a small table in a corner of the compartment, and the enjoyment of a + mild cigar. + </p> + <p> + Later, when Calvert had been eliminated by Miss Bessie, Winton looked to + see the true inwardness of the dinner-bidding made manifest by his host. + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Darrah chatted on, affably noncommittal, and after a time Winton + began to upbraid himself for suspecting the ulterior motive. And when he + finally rose to excuse himself on a letter-writing plea, his leave-taking + was that of the genial host reluctant to part company with his guest. + </p> + <p> + “I've enjoyed your conve'sation, seh; enjoyed it right much. May I hope + you will faveh us often while we are neighbors?” + </p> + <p> + Winton rose, made the proper acknowledgments, and would have crossed the + compartment to make his adieus to Mrs. Carteret. But at that moment + Virginia came between. + </p> + <p> + “You are not going yet, are you, Mr. Winton? Don't hurry. If you are dying + to smoke a pipe, as Mr. Adams says you are, we can go out on the platform. + It isn't too cold, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “It is clear and frosty, a beautiful night,” he hastened to say. “May I + help you with your coat?” + </p> + <p> + So presently Winton had his heart's desire, which was to be alone with + Virginia. + </p> + <p> + She nerved herself for the plunge,—her uncle's plunge. + </p> + <p> + “Your part in the building of this other railroad is purely a business + affair, is it not?” + </p> + <p> + “My personal interest? Quite so; a mere matter of dollars and cents, you + may say.” + </p> + <p> + “If you should have another offer, from some other company—” + </p> + <p> + “That is not your argument; it is Mr. Darrah's. You know well enough what + is involved: honor, integrity, good faith, everything a man values, or + should value. I can't believe you would ask such a sacrifice of me—of + any man. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I do not ask it, Mr. Winton. But it is only fair that you should + have your warning. My uncle will leave no stone unturned to defeat you.” + </p> + <p> + He was still looking into her eyes, and so had courage to say what came + uppermost. + </p> + <p> + “I don't care: I shall fight him as hard as I can, but I shall always be + his debtor for this evening. Do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + In a flash her mood changed and she laughed lightly. + </p> + <p> + “Who would think it of you, Mr. Winton. Of all men I should have said you + were the last to care so much for the social diversions. Shall we go in?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. THE BLOCK SIGNAL. + </h2> + <p> + If Mr. John Winton, C. E., stood in need of a moral tonic, as Adams had so + delicately intimated to Miss Bessie Carteret, it was administered in + quantity sufficient before he slept on the night of dinner-givings. + </p> + <p> + For a clear-eyed theorist, free from all heart-trammelings and able to + grasp the unsentimental fact, the enemy's new plan of campaign wrote + itself quite legibly. With his pick and choice among the time-killing + expedients the Rajah could scarcely have found one more to his purpose + than the private car Rosemary, including in its passenger list a Miss + Virginia Carteret. + </p> + <p> + All of which Adams, substituting friendly frankness for the disciplinary + traditions of the service, set forth in good Bostonian English for the + benefit and behoof of his chief, and was answered according to his deserts + with scoffings and deridings. + </p> + <p> + “I wasn't born yesterday, Morty, and I'm not so desperately asinine as you + seem to think,” was the besotted one's summing-up. “I know the Rajah + doesn't split hairs in a business fight, but he is hardly unscrupulous + enough to use Miss Carteret as a cat's-paw.” + </p> + <p> + But Adams would not be scoffed aside so easily. + </p> + <p> + “You're off in your estimate of Mr. Darrah, Jack, 'way off. I know the + tradition: that a Southern gentleman is all chivalry when it comes to a + matter touching his womankind, and I don't controvert it as a general + proposition. But the Rajah has been a fighting Western railroad magnate so + long that his accent is about the only Southern asset he has retained. If + I'm any good at guessing, he will stick at nothing to gain his end.” + </p> + <p> + Winton admitted the impeachment without prejudice to his own point of + view. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you are right. But forewarned is forearmed. And Miss Virginia is + not going to lend herself to any such nefarious scheme.” + </p> + <p> + “Not consciously, perhaps; but you don't know her yet. If she saw a good + chance to take the conceit out of you, she'd improve it—without + thinking overmuch of the possible consequences to the Utah company.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw!” said Winton. “That is another of your literary inferences. I've + met her only twice, yet I venture to say I know her better than you do. If + she cared anything for me—which she doesn't—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, go to sleep!” said Adams, who was not minded to argue further with a + man besotted; and so the matter went by default for the time. + </p> + <p> + But in the days that followed, days in which the sun rose and set in + cloudless winter splendor and the heavy snows still held aloof, Adams' + prediction wrought itself out into sober fact. After the single appeal to + force, Mr. Darrah seemed to give up the fight. None the less, the + departure of the Rosemary was delayed, and its hospitable door was always + open to the Utah chief of construction and his assistant. + </p> + <p> + It was very deftly done, and even Adams, the clear-eyed, could not help + admiring the Rajah's skilful finesse. Of formal dinner-givings there might + easily have been an end, since the construction camp had nothing to offer + in return. But the formalities were studiously ignored, and the two young + men were put upon a footing of intimacy and encouraged to come and go as + they pleased. + </p> + <p> + Winton took his welcome broadly, as what lover would not? and within a + week was spending most of his evenings in the Rosemary—this at a + time when every waking moment of the day and night was deeply mortgaged to + the chance of success. For now that the Rajah had withdrawn his + opposition, Nature and the perversity of inanimate things had taken a + hand, and for a fortnight the work of track-laying paused fairly within + sight of the station at Argentine. + </p> + <p> + First it was a carload of steel accidentally derailed and dumped into + Quartz Creek at precisely the worst possible point in the lower canyon, a + jagged, rock-ribbed, cliff-bound gorge where each separate piece of metal + had to be hoisted out singly by a derrick erected for the purpose—a + process which effectually blocked the track for three entire days. Next it + was another landslide (unhelped by dynamite, this) just above the station, + a crawling cataract of loose, sliding shale which, painstakingly dug out + and dammed with plank bulkhead during the day, would pour down and bury + bulkhead, buttresses, and the very right of way in the night. + </p> + <p> + In his right mind—the mind of an ambitious young captain of industry + who sees defeat with dishonor staring him in the face—Winton would + have fought all the more desperately for these hindrances. But, + unfortunately, he was no longer an industry captain with an eye single to + success. He was become that anomaly despised of the working world—a + man in love. + </p> + <p> + “It's no use shutting our eyes to the fact, Jack,” said Adams one evening, + when his chief was making ready for his regular descent upon the Rosemary. + “We shall have to put night shifts at work on that shale-slide if we hope + ever to get past it with the rails.” + </p> + <p> + “Hang the shale!” was the impatient rejoinder. “I'm no galley slave.” + </p> + <p> + Adams' slow smile came and went in cynical ripplings. + </p> + <p> + “It is pretty difficult to say precisely what you are just now. But I can + prophesy what you are going to be if you don't wake up and come alive.” + </p> + <p> + Having no reply to this, Adams went back to the matter of night shifts. + </p> + <p> + “If you will authorize it, I'll put a night gang on and boss it myself. + What do you say?” + </p> + <p> + “I say you are no end of a good fellow, Morty. And that's the plain fact. + I'll do as much for you some time.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll be smashed if you will—you'll never get the chance. When I let + a pretty girl make a fool of me—” + </p> + <p> + But the door of the dinkey slammed behind the outgoing one, and the + prophet of evil was left to organize his night assault on the shale-slide, + and to command it as best he could. + </p> + <p> + So, as we say, the days, days of stubborn toil with the enthusiasm taken + out, slipped away unfruitful. Of the entire Utah force Adams alone held + himself up to the mark, and being only second in command, he was unable to + keep the bad example of the chief from working like a leaven of inertness + among the men. Branagan voiced the situation in rich brogue one evening + when Adams had exhausted his limited vocabulary of abuse on the force for + its apathy. “'Tis no use, ava, Misther Adams. If you was the boss himself + 'twould be you as would put the comether on thim too quick. But it's 'like + masther, like mon.' The b'ys all know that Misther Winton don't care a + damn; and they'll not be hurtin' thimselves wid the wurrk.” + </p> + <p> + And the Rajah? Between his times of smoking high-priced cigars with Winton + in the lounging-room of the Rosemary, he was swearing Jubilates in the + privacy of his working-den state-room, having tri-daily weather reports + wired to him by way of Carbonate and Argentine station, and busying + himself in the intervals with sending and receiving sundry mysterious + telegrams in cipher. + </p> + <p> + Thus Mr. Somerville Darrah, all going well for him until one fateful + morning when he made the mistake of congratulating his ally. Then—but + we picture the scene: Mr. Darrah late to his breakfast, being just in from + an early-morning reconnaissance of the enemy's advancings; Virginia + sitting opposite to pour his coffee. All the others vanished to some limbo + of their own. + </p> + <p> + The Rajah rubbed his hands delightedly. + </p> + <p> + “We are coming on famously, famously, my deah Virginia. Two weeks gone, + heavy snows predicted for the mountain region, and nothing, practically + nothing at all, accomplished on the otheh side of the canyon. When you + marry, my deah, you shall have a block of C. G. R. preferred stock to keep + you in pin-money.” + </p> + <p> + “I?” she queried. “But, Uncle Somerville, I don't understand—” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah laughed. + </p> + <p> + “That was a very pretty blush, my deah. Bless your innocent soul, if I + were young Misteh Winton, I'm not sure but I should consideh the game well + lost.” + </p> + <p> + She was gazing at him wide-eyed now, and the blush had left a pallor + behind it. + </p> + <p> + “You mean that I—that I—” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that you are a helpeh worth having, Miss Carteret. Anotheh time + Misteh Winton won't pay cou't to a cha'ming young girl and try to build a + railroad at one and the same moment, I fancy. Hah!” + </p> + <p> + The startled eyes veiled themselves swiftly, and Virginia's voice sank to + its softest cadence. + </p> + <p> + “Have I been an accomplice,” she began, “in this—this despicable + thing, Uncle Somerville?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Darrah began a little to see his mistake. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—an accomplice? Oh, no, my deah Virginia, not quite that. The + word smacks too much of the po-lice cou'ts. Let us say that Misteh Winton + has found your company mo' attractive than that of his laborehs, and + commend his good taste in the matteh.” + </p> + <p> + So much he said by way of damping down the fire he had so rashly lighted. + Then Jastrow came in with one of the interminable cipher telegrams and + Virginia was left alone. + </p> + <p> + For a time she sat at the deserted breakfast-table, dry-eyed, hot-hearted, + thinking such thoughts as would come crowding thickly upon the heels of + such a revelation. Winton would fail: a man with honor, good repute, his + entire career at stake, as he himself had admitted, would go down to + miserable oblivion and defeat, lacking some friendly hand to smite him + alive to a sense of his danger. And, in her uncle's estimation, at least, + she, Virginia Carteret, would figure as the Delilah triumphant. + </p> + <p> + She rose, tingling to her finger-tips with the shame of it, went to her + state-room, and found her writing materials. In such a crisis her methods + could be as direct as a man's. Winton was coming again that evening. He + must be stopped and sent about his business. + </p> + <p> + So she wrote him a note, telling him he must not come—a note + man-like in its conciseness, and yet most womanly in its failure to give + even the remotest hint of the new and binding reason why he must not come. + And just before luncheon an obliging Cousin Billy was prevailed upon to + undertake its delivery. + </p> + <p> + When he had found Winton at the shale-slide, and had given him Miss + Carteret's mandate, the Reverend Billy did not return directly to the + Rosemary. On the contrary, he extended his tramp westward, stumbling on + aimlessly up the canyon over the unsurfaced embankment of the new line. + </p> + <p> + Truth to tell, Virginia's messenger was not unwilling to spend a little + time alone with the immensities. To put it baldly, he was beginning to be + desperately cloyed with the sweets of a day-long Miss Bessie, ennuyé on + the one hand and despondent on the other. + </p> + <p> + Why could not the Cousin Bessies see, without being told in so many words, + that the heart of a man may have been given in times long past to another + woman?—to a Cousin Virginia, let us say. And why must the Cousin + Virginias, passing by the lifelong devotion of a kinsman lover, throw + themselves—if one must put it thus brutally—fairly at the head + of an acquaintance of a day? + </p> + <p> + So questioning the immensities, the Reverend Billy came out after some + little time in a small upland valley where the two lines, old and new, ran + parallel at the same level, with low embankments less than a hundred yards + apart. + </p> + <p> + Midway of the valley the hundred-yard interspace was bridged by a + hastily-constructed spur track starting from a switch on the Colorado and + Grand River main line, and crossing the Utah right of way at a broad + angle. On this spur, at its point of intersection with the new line, stood + a heavy locomotive, steam up, and manned in every inch of its + standing-room by armed guards. + </p> + <p> + The situation explained itself, even to a Reverend Billy. The Rajah had + not been idle during the interval of dinner-givings and social + divagations. He had acquired the right of way across the Utah's line for + his blockading spur; had taken advantage of Winton's inalertness to + construct the track; and was now prepared to hold the crossing with a live + engine and such a show of force as might be needful. + </p> + <p> + Calvert turned back from the entrance of the valley, and was minded, in a + spirit of fairness, to pass the word concerning the new obstruction on to + the man who was most vitally concerned. But alas! even a Reverend Billy + may not always arise superior to his hamperings as a man and a lover. Here + was defeat possible—nay, say rather defeat probable—for a + rival, with the probability increasing with each hour of delay. Calvert + fought it out by length and by breadth a dozen times before he came in + sight of the track force toiling at the shale-slide. Should he tell + Winton, and so, indirectly, help to frustrate Mr. Darrah's well-laid plan? + Or should he hold his peace and thus, indirectly again, help to defeat the + Utah company? + </p> + <p> + He put it that way in decent self-respect. Also he assured himself that + the personal equation as between two lovers of one and the same woman was + entirely eliminated. But who can tell which motive it was that prompted + him to turn aside before he came to the army of toilers at the slide: to + turn and cross the stream and make as wide a detour as the nature of the + ground would permit, passing well beyond call from the other side of the + canyon? + </p> + <p> + The detour took him past the slide in silent safety, but it did not take + him immediately back to the Rosemary. Instead of keeping on down the + canyon on the C. G. R. side, he turned up the gulch at the back of + Argentine and spent the better half of the afternoon tramping beneath the + solemn spruces on the mountain. What the hours of solitude brought him in + the way of decision let him declare as he sets his face finally toward the + station and the private car. + </p> + <p> + “I can't do it: I can't turn traitor to the kinsman whose bread I eat. And + that is what it would come to in plain English. Beyond that I have no + right to go: it is not for me to pass upon the justice of this petty war + between rival corporations.” + </p> + <p> + Ah, William Calvert! is there no word then of that other and far subtler + temptation? When you have reached your goal, if reach it you may, will + there be no remorseful looking back to this mile-stone where a word from + you might have taken the fly from your pot of precious ointment? + </p> + <p> + The short winter day was darkening to its close when he returned to the + Rosemary. By dint of judicious manoeuvering, with a too-fond Bessie for an + unconscious confederate, he managed to keep Virginia from questioning him; + this up to a certain moment of climaxes in the evening. + </p> + <p> + But Virginia read momentous things in his face and eyes, and when the time + was fully ripe she cornered him. It was the old story over again, of a + woman's determination to know pitted against a truthful man's blundering + efforts to conceal; and before he knew what he was about Calvert had + betrayed the Rajah's secret—which was also the secret of the cipher + telegrams. + </p> + <p> + Miss Carteret said little—said nothing, indeed, that an anxious + kinsman lover could lay hold of. But when the secret was hers she donned + coat and headgear and went out on the square-railed platform, whither the + Reverend Billy dared not follow her. + </p> + <p> + But another member of the Rosemary group had more courage—-or fewer + scruples. When Miss Carteret let herself out of the rear door, Jastrow + disappeared in the opposite direction, passing through the forward + vestibule and dropping cat-like from the step to inch his way silently + over the treacherous snow-crust to a convenient spying place at the other + end of the car. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately for the spying purpose, the shades were drawn behind the two + great windows and the glass door, but the starlight sufficed to show the + watcher a shadowy Miss Virginia standing motionless on the side which gave + her an outlook down the canyon, leaning out, it might be, to anticipate + the upcoming of some one from the construction camp below. + </p> + <p> + The secretary, shivering in the knife-like wind slipping down from the + bald peaks, had not long to wait. By the time his eyes were fitted to the + darkness he heard a man coming up the track, the snow crunching frostily + under his steady stride. Jastrow ducked under the platform and gained a + viewpoint on the other side of the car. The crunching footfalls had + ceased, and a man was swinging himself up to the forward step of the + Rosemary. At the instant a voice just above the spy's head called softly, + “Mr. Winton!” and the new-comer dropped back into the snow and came + tramping to the rear. + </p> + <p> + It was an awkward moment for Jastrow; but he made shift to dodge again, + and so to be out of the way when the engineer drew himself up and climbed + the hand-rail to stand beside his summoner. + </p> + <p> + The secretary saw him take her hand and heard her exclamation, half + indignant, wholly reproachful: + </p> + <p> + “You had my note: I told you not to come!” + </p> + <p> + “So you did, and yet you were expecting me,” he asserted. He was still + holding her hand, and she could not—or did not—withdraw it. + </p> + <p> + “Was I, indeed!” There was a touch of the old-time raillery in the words, + but it was gone when she added: “Oh, why will you keep on coming and + coming when you know so well what it means to you and your work?” + </p> + <p> + “I think you know the answer to that better than anyone,” he rejoined, his + voice matching hers for earnestness. “It is because I love you; because I + could not stay away if I should try. Forgive me, dear; I did not mean to + speak so soon. But you said in your note that you would be leaving + Argentine immediately—that I should not see you again: so I had to + come. Won't you give me a word, Virginia?—a waiting word, if it must + be that?” + </p> + <p> + Jastrow held his breath, hope dying within him and sullen ferocity + crouching for the spring if her answer should urge it on. But when she + spoke the secretary's anger cooled and he breathed again. + </p> + <p> + “No: a thousand times, no!” she burst out passionately; and Winton + staggered as if the suddenly-freed hand had dealt him a blow. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. SPIKED SWITCHES + </h2> + <p> + For a little time after Virginia's passionate rejection of him Winton + stood abashed and confounded. Weighed in the balance of the after-thought, + his sudden and unpremeditated declaration could plead little excuse in + encouragement. And yet she had been exceedingly kind to him. + </p> + <p> + “I have no right to expect a better answer,” he said finally, when he + could trust himself to speak. “But I am like other men: I should like to + know why.” + </p> + <p> + “You can ask that?” she retorted. “You say you have no right: what have + you done to expect a better answer?” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged. “Nothing, I suppose. But you knew that before.” + </p> + <p> + “I only know what you have shown me during the past three weeks, and it + has proved that you are what Mr. Adams said you were—though he was + only jesting.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is?” + </p> + <p> + “A <i>faineant</i>, a dilettante; a man with all the God-given ability to + do as he will and to succeed, and yet who will not take the trouble to + persevere.” + </p> + <p> + Winton smiled, a grim little smile. + </p> + <p> + “You are not quite like any other woman I have ever known—not like + any other in the world, I believe. Your sisters, most of them, would take + it as the sincerest homage that a man should neglect his work for his + love. Do you care so much for success, then?” + </p> + <p> + “For the thing itself—nothing, less than nothing. But—but one + may care a little for the man who wins or loses.” + </p> + <p> + He tried to take her hand again, tried and failed. + </p> + <p> + “Virginia!—is that my word of hope?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Will you never see the commonplace effrontery of it, Mr. Winton? Day + after day you have come here, idling away the precious hours that meant + everything to you, and now you come once again to offer me a share in what + you have lost. Is that your idea of chivalry, of true manhood?” + </p> + <p> + Again the grim smile came and went. + </p> + <p> + “An unprejudiced onlooker might say that you have made me very welcome.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Winton! Is that generous?” + </p> + <p> + “No; perhaps it is hardly just. Because I counted the cost and have paid + the price open-eyed. You may remember that I told you that first evening I + should come as often as I dared. I knew then, what I have known all along: + that it was a part of your uncle's plan to delay my work.” + </p> + <p> + “His and mine, you mean; only you are too kind—or not quite brave + enough—to say so.” + </p> + <p> + “Yours? Never! If I could believe you capable of such a thing—” + </p> + <p> + “You may believe it,” she broke in. “It was I who suggested it.” + </p> + <p> + He drew a deep breath, and she heard his teeth come together with a click. + It was enough to try the faith of the loyalest lover: it tried his sorely. + Yet he scarcely needed her low-voiced, “Don't you despise me as I deserve, + now?” to make him love her all the more. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I don't. Resentment and love can hardly find room in the same + heart at the same time, and I have said that I love you,” he rejoined + quickly. + </p> + <p> + She went silent at that, and when she spoke again the listening Jastrow + tuned his ear afresh to lose no word. + </p> + <p> + “As I have confessed, I suggested it: it was just after I had seen your + men and the sheriff's ready to fly at one another's throats. I was + miserably afraid, and I asked Uncle Somerville if he could not make terms + with you in some other way. I didn't mean—” + </p> + <p> + He made haste to help her. + </p> + <p> + “Please don't try to defend your motive to me; it is wholly unnecessary. + It is more than enough for me to know that you were anxious about my + safety.” + </p> + <p> + But she would not let him have the crumb of comfort undisputed. + </p> + <p> + “There were other lives involved besides yours. I didn't say I was + specially afraid for you, did I?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but you meant it. And I thought afterward that I should have given + you a hint in some way, though the way didn't offer at the time. There was + no danger of bloodshed. I knew—we all knew—that Deckert + wouldn't go to extremities with the small force he had.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it was only a—a—” + </p> + <p> + “A bluff,” he said, supplying the word. “If I had believed there was the + slightest possibility of a fight, I should have made my men take to the + woods rather than let you witness it.” + </p> + <p> + “You shouldn't have let me waste my sympathy,” she protested + reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry; truly, I am. And you have been wasting it in another direction + as well. To-night will see the shale-slide conquered definitely, I hope, + and three more days of good weather will send us into the Carbonate + yards.” + </p> + <p> + She broke in upon him with a little cry of impatient despair. + </p> + <p> + “That shows how unwary you have been! Tell me: is there not a little + valley just above here—an open place where your railroad and Uncle + Somerville's run side by side?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is a mile this side of the canyon head. What about it?” + </p> + <p> + “How long is it since you have been up there?” she queried. + </p> + <p> + Winton stopped to think. “I don't know—a week, possibly.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet if you had not been coming here every evening, you or Mr. Adams would + have found time to go—to watch every possible chance of + interference, wouldn't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps. That was one of the risks I took, a part of the price-paying I + spoke of. If anything had happened, I should still be unrepentant.” + </p> + <p> + “Something <i>has</i> happened. While you have been taking things for + granted, Uncle Somerville has been at work day and night. He has built a + track right across yours in that little valley, and he keeps a train of + cars or something, filled with armed men, standing there all the time!” + </p> + <p> + Winton gave a low whistle. Then he laughed mirthlessly. + </p> + <p> + “You are quite sure of this?” he asked. “There is no possibility of your + being mistaken?” + </p> + <p> + “None at all,” she replied. “And I can only defend myself by saying that I + didn't know about it until a few minutes ago. What is to be done? But + stop; you needn't tell me. I am not worthy of your confidence.” + </p> + <p> + “You are; you have just proved it. But there isn't anything to be done. + The next thing in order is the exit of one John Winton in disgrace. That + spur track and engine means a crossing fight which can be prolonged + indefinitely, with due vigilance on the part of Mr. Darrah's mercenaries. + I'm smashed, Miss Carteret, thoroughly and permanently. Ah, well, it's + only one more fool for love. Hadn't we better go in? You'll take cold + standing out here.” + </p> + <p> + She drew herself up and put her hands behind her. + </p> + <p> + “Is that the way you take it, Mr. Winton?” + </p> + <p> + The acrid laugh came again. + </p> + <p> + “Would you have me tear a passion to tatters? My ancestors were not + French.” + </p> + <p> + Trying as the moment was, she could not miss her opportunity. + </p> + <p> + “How can you tell when you don't know your grandfather's middle name?” she + said, half crying. + </p> + <p> + His laugh at this was less acrid. “Adams again? My grandfather had no + middle name. But I mustn't keep you out here in the cold talking + genealogies.” + </p> + <p> + His hand was on the door to open it for her. Like a flash she came + between, and her fingers closed over his on the door-knob. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” she said. “Have I done all this—humbled myself into the very + dust—to no purpose?” + </p> + <p> + “Not if you will give me the one priceless word I am thirsting for.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how shameless you are!” she cried. “Will nothing serve to arouse the + better part of you?” + </p> + <p> + “There is no better part of any man than his love for a woman. You have + aroused that.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Then prove it by going and building your railroad</i>, Mr. Winton. + When you have done that—” + </p> + <p> + He caught at the word as a drowning man catches at a straw. + </p> + <p> + “When I have won the fight—Virginia, let me see your eyes—when + I have won, I may come back to you?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't say anything of the kind! But I will say what I said to Mr. + Adams. I like men who <i>do</i> things. Good night.” And before he could + reply she had made him open the door for her, and he was left alone on the + square-railed platform. + </p> + <p> + In the gathering-room of the private car Virginia found an atmosphere + surcharged with electrical possibilities, felt it and inhaled it, though + there was nothing visible to indicate it. The Rajah was buried in the + depths of his particular easy-chair, puffing his cigar; Bessie had the + Reverend Billy in the tete-a-tete contrivance; and Mrs. Carteret was + reading under the Pintsch drop-light at the table. + </p> + <p> + It was the chaperon who applied the firing spark to the electrical + possibilities. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't I hear you talking to some one out on the platform, Virginia?” she + asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it was Mr. Winton. He came to make his excuses.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Somerville Darrah awoke out of his tobacco reverie with a start. + </p> + <p> + “Hah!” he said fiercely. Then, in his most courteous phrase: “Did I + undehstand you to say that Misteh Winton would not faveh us to-night, my + deah Virginia?” + </p> + <p> + “He could not. He has come upon—upon some other difficulty, I + believe,” she stammered, steering a perilous course among the rocks of + equivocation. + </p> + <p> + “Mmph!” said the Rajah, rising. “Ah—where is Jastrow?” + </p> + <p> + The obsequious one appeared, imp-like, at the mention of his name, and + received a curt order. + </p> + <p> + “Go and find Engineer McGrath and his fireman. Tell him I want the engine + instantly. Move, seh!” + </p> + <p> + Virginia retreated to her state-room. In a few minutes she heard her uncle + go out; and shortly afterward the Rosemary's engine shook itself free of + the car and rumbled away westward. At that, Virginia went back to the + others and found a book. But if waiting inactive were difficult, reading + was blankly impossible. + </p> + <p> + “Goodness!” she exclaimed impatiently at last. “How hot you people keep it + in here! Cousin Billy, won't you take a turn with me on the station + platform? I can't breathe!” + </p> + <p> + Calvert acquiesced eagerly, scenting an opportunity. But when they were + out under the frosty stars he had the good sense to walk her up and down + in the healing silence and darkness for five full minutes before he + ventured to say what was in his mind. + </p> + <p> + When he spoke it was earnestly and to the purpose, not without eloquence. + He loved her; had always loved her, he thought. Could she not, with time + and the will to try, learn to love him?—not as a cousin? + </p> + <p> + She turned quickly and put both hands on his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Cousin Billy—<i>don't</i>!” she faltered brokenly; and he, + seeing at once that he had played the housebreaker where he would fain + have been the welcome guest, took his punishment manfully, drawing her arm + in his and walking her yet other turns up and down the long platform until + his patience and the silence had wrought their perfect work. + </p> + <p> + “Does it hurt much?” she asked softly, after a long time. + </p> + <p> + “You would have to change places with me to know just how much it hurts,” + he answered. “And yet you haven't left me quite desolate, Virginia. I + still have something left—all I've ever had, I fancy.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is—” + </p> + <p> + “My love for you, you know. It isn't at all contingent upon your yes or + no; or upon possession—it never has been, I think. It has never + asked much except the right to be.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent for a moment. Then she said: “Cousin Billy, I do believe + that you are the best man that ever lived. And I am ashamed—ashamed!” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” + </p> + <p> + “If I have spoiled you, ever so little, for some truer, worthier woman.” + </p> + <p> + “You haven't,” he responded; “you mustn't take that view of it. I am + decently in love with my work—a work that not a few wise men have + agreed could best be done alone. I don't think there will be any other + woman. You see, there is only one Virginia. Shall we go in now?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded, but when they reached the Rosemary the returning engine was + rattling down upon the open siding. Virginia drew back. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to meet Uncle Somerville just now,” she confessed. “Can't we + climb up to the observation platform at the other end of the car?” + </p> + <p> + He said yes, and made the affirmative good by lifting her in his arms over + the high railing. Once safely on the car, she bade him leave her. + </p> + <p> + “Slip in quietly and they won't notice,” she said. “I'll come presently.” + </p> + <p> + Calvert obeyed, and Virginia stood alone in the darkness. Down in the Utah + construction camp lights were darting to and fro; and before long she + heard the hoarse puffs of the big octopod, betokening activities. + </p> + <p> + She was shivering a little in the chill wind sliding down from the + snow-peaks, yet she would not go in until she had made sure. In a little + time her patience was rewarded. The huge engine came storming up the grade + on the new line, pushing its three flat-cars, which were black with + clinging men. On the car nearest the locomotive, where the dazzling beam + of the headlight pricked him out for her, stood Winton, braced against the + lurchings of the train over the uneven track. + </p> + <p> + “God speed you, my—love!” she murmured softly; and when the gloom of + the upper canyon cleft had engulfed man and men and storming engine she + turned to go in. + </p> + <p> + She was groping for the door-knob in the darkness made thicker by the + glare of the passing headlight when a voice, disembodied for the moment, + said: “Wait a minute, Miss Carteret; I'd like to have a word with you.” + </p> + <p> + She drew back quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Is it you, Mr. Jastrow? Let me go in, please.” + </p> + <p> + “In one moment. I have something to say to you—something you ought + to hear.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't it be said on the other side of the door? I am cold—very + cold, Mr. Jastrow.” + </p> + <p> + It was his saving hint, but he would not take it. + </p> + <p> + “No, it must be said to you alone. We have at least one thing in common, + Miss Carteret—you and I: that is a proper appreciation of the + successful realities. I—” + </p> + <p> + She stopped him with a quick little gesture of impatience. + </p> + <p> + “Will you be good enough to stand aside and let me go in?” + </p> + <p> + The keen breath of the snow-caps was summer-warm in comparison with the + chilling iciness of her manner; but the secretary went on unmoved: + </p> + <p> + “Success is the only thing worth while in this world. Winton will fail, + but I shan't. And when I do succeed, I shall marry a woman who can wear + the purple most becomingly.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you may, I'm sure,” she answered wearily. “Yet you will excuse me + if I say that I don't understand how it concerns me, or why you should + keep me out here in the cold to tell me about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you? It concerns you very nearly. You are the woman, Miss + Carteret.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed? And if I decline the honor?” + </p> + <p> + The contingency was one for which the suitor seemed not entirely prepared. + Yet he evinced a willingness to meet the hypothesis in a spirit of perfect + candor. + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn't do that, definitely, I fancy. It would be tantamount to + driving me to extremities.” + </p> + <p> + “If you will tell me how I can do it 'definitely,' I shall be most happy + to drive you to extremities, or anywhere else out of my way,” she said + frigidly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I think not,” he rejoined. “You wouldn't want me to go and tell Mr. + Darrah how you have betrayed him to Mr. Winton. I had the singular good + fortune to overhear you conversation—yours and Mr. Winton's, you + know; and if Mr. Darrah knew, he would cut you out of his will with very + little compunction, don't you think? And, really, you mustn't throw + yourself away on that sentimental Tommy of an engineer, Miss Virginia. + He'll never be able to give you the position you're fitted for.” + </p> + <p> + Since French was a dead language to Mr. Arthur Jastrow, he never knew what + it was that Miss Carteret named him. But she left him in no doubt as to + her immediate purpose. + </p> + <p> + “If that be the case, we would better go and find my uncle at once,” she + said in her softest tone; and before he could object she had led the way + to the Rajah's working-den state-room. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Darrah was deep in one of the cipher telegrams when they entered, and + he looked up to glare fiercely at one and then the other of the intruders. + Virginia gave her persecutor no time to lodge his accusation. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Somerville, Mr. Winton was here an hour ago, as you know, and I + told him what you had done—what I had helped you do. Also, I sent + him about his business; which is to win his railroad fight if he can. Mr. + Jastrow overheard the conversation, purposely, and as he threatens to turn + informer, I am saving him the trouble. Perhaps I ought to add that he + offered to hold his peace if I would promise to marry him.” + </p> + <p> + What the unlucky Jastrow might have said in his own behalf is not to be + here set down in peaceful black and white. With the final word of + Virginia's explanation the fierce old master of men was up and clutching + for the secretary's throat, and the working complement of the Rosemary + suffered instant loss. + </p> + <p> + “You'll spy upon a membeh of my family, will you, seh!” he stormed. “Out + with you, bag and baggage, befo' I lose my tempeh and forget what is due + to this young lady you have insulted, seh, with your infamous proposals! + Faveh me instantly, while you have a leg to run with! Go!” + </p> + <p> + Jastrow disappeared; and when the door closed behind him Virginia faced + her irate clan-chief bravely. + </p> + <p> + “He was a spy, and he would have been a traitor. But I am little better. + What will you do to me?” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah's wrath evaporated quickly, and a shrewd smile, not unkindly, + wrinkled the ruddy old face. + </p> + <p> + “So it was a case of the trappeh trapped, was it, my deah? I'm sorry—right + sorry. I might have known how it would be; a youngeh man would have known. + But you have done no unpahdonable mischief: Misteh Winton would have found + out for himself in a few hours, and we are ready for him now.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear! Then he will be beaten?” + </p> + <p> + “Unquestionably. Faveh me by going to bed, my deah. Your roses will suffeh + sadly for all this excitement, I feah. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. THE RIGHT OF WAY + </h2> + <p> + It seemed to Virginia that she had but just fallen asleep when she was + rudely awakened by the jar and grind of the Rosemary's wheels on + snow-covered rails. Drawing the curtain, she found that a new day was + come, gray and misty white in the gusty swirl of a mountain snow-squall. + </p> + <p> + Without disturbing the sleeping Bessie, she dressed quickly and slipped + out to see what the early-morning change of base portended. The common + room was empty when she entered it, but before she could cross to the door + the Reverend Billy came in, stamping the snow from his feet. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” she asked eagerly. “Are we off for California?” + </p> + <p> + “No, it's some more of the war. Winton has outgeneraled us. During the + night he pushed his track up to the disputed crossing, 'rushed' the + guarded engine, and ditched it.” + </p> + <p> + Virginia felt that she ought to be decorously sorry for relationship's + sake, but the effort ended in a little paean of joy. + </p> + <p> + “But Uncle Somerville—what will he do?” + </p> + <p> + “He is with McGrath on the engine, getting himself—and us—to + the front in a hurry, as you perceive.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it too late to stop Mr. Winton now?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. From what I could overhear I gathered that the ditched + engine is still in the way; that they are trying to roll it over into the + creek. Bless me! McGrath is getting terribly reckless!”—this as a + spiteful lurch of the car flung them both across the compartment. + </p> + <p> + “Say Uncle Somerville,” she amended. “Don't charge it to Mr. McGrath. + Can't we go out on the platform?” + </p> + <p> + “It's as much as your life is worth,” he asserted, but he opened the door + for her. + </p> + <p> + The car was backing swiftly up the grade with the engine behind serving as + a “pusher.” At first the fiercely-driven snow-whirl made Virginia gasp. + Then the speed slackened and she could breathe and see. + </p> + <p> + The shrilling wheels were tracking around a curve into a scanty widening + of the canyon. To the left, on the rails of the new line, the big octopod + was heaving and grunting in the midst of an army of workmen swarming thick + upon the overturned guard engine. + </p> + <p> + “Goodness! it's like a battle!” she shuddered. As she spoke the Rosemary + stopped with a jerk and McGrath's fireman darted past to set the + spur-track switch. + </p> + <p> + The points were snow-clogged, and the fireman wrestled with the lever, + saying words. The delay was measurable in heart-beats, but it sufficed. + The big octopod coughed thrice like a mighty giant in a consumption; the + clustering workmen scattered like chaff to a ringing shout of “Stand + clear!” and the obstructing mass of iron and steel rolled, wallowing and + hissing, into the stream. + </p> + <p> + “Rails to the front! Hammermen!” yelled Winton; and the scattered force + rallied instantly. + </p> + <p> + But now the wrestling fireman had thrown the switch, and at the Rajah's + command the Rosemary shot out on the spur to be thrust with locked brakes + fairly into the breach left defenseless by the ditched engine. With a + mob-roar of wrath the infuriated track-layers made a rush for the new + obstruction. But Winton was before them. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on!” he shouted, bearing them back with outflung arms. “Hold on, + men, for God's sake! There are women in that car!” + </p> + <p> + The wrathful wave broke and eddied murmurous while a square-shouldered old + man with fierce eyes and huge white mustaches, and with an extinct cigar + between his teeth, clambered down from the Rosemary's engine to say: + </p> + <p> + “Hah! a ratheh close connection, eh, Misteh Winton? Faveh me with a match, + if you please, seh. May I assume that you won't tumble my private car into + the ditch?” + </p> + <p> + Winton was white-hot, but he found a light for the Rajah's cigar, easing + his mind only as he might with Virginia looking on. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be more considerate of the safety of the ladies than you seem to + be, Mr. Darrah,” he retorted. “You are taking long chances in this game, + sir.” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah's laugh rumbled deep in his chest. “Not so vehy much longer than + you have been taking during the past fo'tnight, my deah seh. But neveh + mind; all's fair in love or war, and we appeah to be having a little of + both now up heah in Qua'tz Creek, hah?” + </p> + <p> + Winton flushed angrily. It was no light thing to be mocked before his men, + to say nothing of Miss Carteret standing within arm's reach on the railed + platform of the Rosemary. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I shall give you back that word before we are through, Mr. + Darrah,” he snapped. Then to the eddying mob-wave: “Tools up, boys. We + camp here for breakfast. Branagan, send the Two-fifteen down for the + cook's outfit.” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah dropped his cigar butt in the snow and trod upon it. + </p> + <p> + “Possibly you will faveh us with your company to breakfast in the + Rosemary, Misteh Winton—you and Misteh Adams. No? Then I bid you a + vehy good morning, gentlemen, and hope to see you lateh.” And he swung up + to the steps of the private car. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour afterward, the snow still whirling dismally, Winton and Adams + were cowering over a handful of hissing embers, drinking their commissary + coffee and munching the camp cook's poor excuse for a breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “Jig's up pretty definitely, don't you think?” said Adams, with a glance + around at the idle track force huddling for shelter under the lee of the + flats and the octopod. + </p> + <p> + Winton shook his head and groaned. “I'm a ruined man, Morty.” + </p> + <p> + Adams found his cigarette case. + </p> + <p> + “I guess that's so,” he said quite heartlessly. Then: “Hello! what is our + friend the enemy up to now?” + </p> + <p> + McGrath's fireman was uncoupling the engine from the Rosemary, and Mr. + Somerville Darrah, complacently lighting his after breakfast cigar, came + across to the hissing ember fire. + </p> + <p> + “A word with you, gentlemen, if you will faveh me,” he began. “I am about + to run down to Argentine on my engine, and I propose leaving the ladies in + your cha'ge, Misteh Winton. Will you give me your word of honeh, seh, that + they will not be annoyed in my absence?” + </p> + <p> + Winton sprang up, losing his temper again. + </p> + <p> + “It's—well, it's blessed lucky that you know your man, Mr. Darrah!” + he exploded. “Go on about your business—which is to bring another + army of deputy-sheriffs down on us, I take it. You know well enough that + no man of mine will lay a hand on your car so long as the ladies are in + it.” + </p> + <p> + The Rajah thanked him, dismissed the matter with a Chesterfieldian wave of + his hand, climbed to his place in the cab, and the engine shrilled away + around the curve and disappeared in the snow-wreaths. + </p> + <p> + Adams rose and stretched himself. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! when it comes to cheek, pure and unadulterated, commend me to a + Virginia gentleman who has acquired the proper modicum of Western bluff,” + he laughed. Then, with a cavernous yawn dating back to the sleepless + night: “Since there is nothing immediately pressing, I believe I'll go and + call on the ladies. Won't you come along for a while?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” said Winton savagely; and the assistant lounged off by himself. + </p> + <p> + Some little time afterward Winton, glooming over his handful of spitting + embers, saw Adams and Virginia come out to stand together on the + observation platform of the Rosemary. They talked long and earnestly, and + when Winton was beginning to add the dull pang of unreasoning jealousy to + his other hurtings, Adams beckoned him. He went, not unwillingly, or + altogether willingly. + </p> + <p> + “I should think you might come and say 'Good morning' to me, Mr. Winton. + I'm not Uncle Somerville,” said Miss Carteret. + </p> + <p> + Winton said “Good morning,” not too graciously, and Adams mocked him. + </p> + <p> + “Besides being a bear with a sore head, Miss Carteret thinks you're not + much of a hustler, Jack,” he said coolly. “She knows the situation; knows + that you were stupid enough to promise not to lay hands on the car when we + could have pushed it out of the way without annoying anybody. None the + less, she thinks that you might find a way to go on building your railroad + without breaking your word to Mr. Darrah.” + </p> + <p> + Winton put his sore-heartedness far enough behind him to smile and say: + “Perhaps Miss Virginia will be good enough to tell me how.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know how,” she rejoined quickly. “And you'd only laugh at me if I + should tell you what I thought of.” + </p> + <p> + “You might try it and see,” he ventured. “I'm desperate enough to take + suggestions from anyone.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me something first: is your railroad obliged to run straight along + in the middle of this nice little ridge you've been making for it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—no; temporarily, it can run anywhere. But the problem is to get + the track laid beyond this crossing before your uncle gets back with a + trainload of armed guards.” + </p> + <p> + “Any kind of track would do, wouldn't it?—just to secure the + crossing?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; anything that would hold the weight of the octopod. We shall + have to rebuild most of the line, anyway, as soon as the frost comes out + of the ground in the spring.” + </p> + <p> + The brown eyes became far-seeing. + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking,” she said musingly. “There is no time to make another + nice little ridge. But you have piles and piles of logs over there,”—she + meant the cross-ties,—“couldn't you build a sort of cobhouse ridge + with those between your track and Uncle's, and cross behind the car? Don't + laugh, please.” + </p> + <p> + But Winton was far enough from laughing at her. Why so simple an expedient + had not suggested itself instantly he did not stop to inquire. It was + enough that the Heaven-born idea had been given. + </p> + <p> + “Down out of that, Morty!” he cried. “It's one chance in a thousand. Pass + the word to the men; I'll be with you in a second.” And when Adams was + rousing the track force with the bawling shout of “<i>Ev-erybody</i>!” + Winton looked up into the brown eyes. + </p> + <p> + “My debt to you was already very great: I owe you more now,” he said. + </p> + <p> + But she gave him his quittance in a whiplike retort. + </p> + <p> + “And you will stand here talking about it when every moment is precious? + Go!” she commanded; and he went. + </p> + <p> + So now we are to conceive the maddest activity leaping into being in full + view of the watchers at the windows of the private car. Winton's chilled + and sodden army, welcoming any battle-cry of action, flew to the work with + a will. In a twinkling the corded piles of cross-ties had melted to + reappear in cobhouse balks bridging an angle from the Utah embankment to + that of the spur track in the rear of the blockading Rosemary. In briefest + time the hammermen were spiking the rails on the rough-and-ready trestle, + and the Italians were bringing up the crossing-frogs. + </p> + <p> + But the Rajah, astute colonel of industry, had not left himself + defenseless. On the contrary, he had provided for this precise contingency + by leaving McGrath's fireman in mechanical command on the Rosemary. If + Winton should attempt to build around the private car, the fireman was to + wait till the critical moment: then he was to lessen the pressure on the + automatic air-brakes and let the car drop back down the grade just far + enough to block the new crossing. + </p> + <p> + So it came about that this mechanical lieutenant waited, laughing in his + sleeve, until he saw the Italians coming with the crossing-frogs. Then, + judging the time to be fully ripe, he ducked under the Rosemary to “bleed” + the air-brake. + </p> + <p> + Winton heard the hiss of the escaping air above all the industry clamor; + heard, and saw the car start backward. Then he had a flitting glimpse of a + man in grimy overclothes scrambling terror-frenzied from beneath the + Rosemary. The thing done had been overdone. The fireman had “bled” the + air-brake too freely, and the liberated car, gathering momentum with every + wheel-turn, surged around the circling spur track and shot out masterless + on the steeper gradient of the main line. + </p> + <p> + Now, for the occupants of a runaway car on a Rocky Mountain canyon line + there is death and naught else. Winton saw, in a phantasmagoric flash of + second sight, the meteor flight of the heavy car; saw the Reverend Billy's + ineffectual efforts to apply the hand-brakes, if by good hap he should + even guess that there were any hand-brakes; saw the car, bounding and + lurching, keeping to the rails, mayhap, for some few miles below + Argentine, where it would crash headlong into the upward climbing + Carbonate train, and all would end. + </p> + <p> + In unreasoning misery, he did the only thing that offered: ran blindly + down his own embankment, hoping nothing but that he might have one last + glimpse of Virginia clinging to the hand-rail before she should be lost to + him for ever. + </p> + <p> + But as he ran a thought white-hot from the furnace of despair fell into + his brain to set it ablaze with purpose. Beyond the litter of activities + the octopod was standing, empty of its crew. Bounding up into the cab, he + released the brake and sent the great engine flying down the track of the + new line. + </p> + <p> + In the measuring of the first mile the despair-born thought took shape and + form. If he could outpace the runaway on the parallel line, stop the + octopod and dash across to the C. G. R. track ahead of the Rosemary, there + was one chance in a million that he might fling himself upon the car in + mid flight and alight with life enough left to help Calvert with the + hand-brakes. + </p> + <p> + Now, in the most unhopeful struggle it is often the thing least hoped for + that comes to pass. At Argentine, Winton's speed was a mile a minute over + a track rougher than a corduroy wagon-road; yet the octopod held the rail + and was neck and neck with the runaway. Whisking past the station, Winton + had a glimpse of a white-mustached old man standing bareheaded on the + platform and gazing horror-stricken at the tableau; then man and station + and lurching car were left behind, and the fierce strife to gain the + needed mile of lead went on. + </p> + <p> + Three miles more of the surging, racking, nerve-killing race and Winton + had his hand's-breadth of lead and had picked his place for the + million-chanced wrestle with death. It was at the C. G. R. station of + Tierra Blanca, just below a series of sharp curves which he hoped might + check a little the arrow-like flight of the runaway. + </p> + <p> + Twenty seconds later the telegraph operator at the lonely little way + station of Tierra Blanca saw a heroic bit of man-play. The upward-bound + Carbonate train was whistling in the gorge below when out of the + snow-wreaths shrouding the new line a big engine shot down to stop with + fire grinding from the wheels, and a man dropped from the high cab to dash + across to the station platform. + </p> + <p> + At the same instant a runaway passenger car thundered out of the canyon + above. The man crouched, flung himself at it in passing, missed the + forward hand-rail, caught the rear, was snatched from his feet and trailed + through the air like the thong of a whip-lash, yet made good his hold and + clambered on. + </p> + <p> + This was all the operator saw, but when he had snapped his key and run out + he heard the shrill squeal of the brakes on the car and knew that the man + had not risked his life for nothing. + </p> + <p> + And on board the Rosemary? Winton, spent to the last breath, was lying + prone on the railed platform, where he had fallen when the last twist had + been given to the shrieking brakes. + </p> + <p> + “Run, Calvert! Run ahead and—stop—the—up-train!” he + gasped; then the light went out of the gray eyes and Virginia wept + unaffectedly and fell to dabbling his forehead with handfuls of snow. + </p> + <p> + “Help me get him in to the divan, Cousin Billy,” said Virginia, when all + was over and the Rosemary was safely coupled in ahead of the upcoming + train to be slowly pushed back to Argentine. + </p> + <p> + But Winton opened his eyes and struggled to his feet unaided. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet,” he said. “I've left my automobile on the other side of the + creek; and besides, I have a railroad to build. My respects to Mr. Darrah, + and you may tell him I'm not beaten yet.” And he swung over the railing + and dropped off to mount the octopod and to race it back to the front. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Three days afterward, to a screaming of smelter whistles and other noisy + demonstrations of mining-camp joy, the Utah Short Line laid the final rail + of its new Extension in the Carbonate yards. + </p> + <p> + The driving of the silver spike accomplished, Winton and Adams slipped out + of the congratulatory throng and made their way across the C. G. R. tracks + to a private car standing along the siding. Its railed platform, + commanding a view of the civic celebration, had its quota of onlookers—a + fierce-eyed old man with huge mustaches, an athletic young clergyman, two + Bisques, and a goddess. + </p> + <p> + “Climb up, Misteh Winton, and you, Misteh Adams; climb up and join us,” + said the fierce-eyed one heartily. “Virginia, heah, thinks we ought to + call one anotheh out, but I tell her—” + </p> + <p> + What the Rajah had told his niece is of small account to us. But what + Winton whispered in her ear when he had taken his place beside her is more + to the purpose of this history. + </p> + <p> + “I have built my railroad, as you told me to, and now I have come for my—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” she said softly. “Can't you wait?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Shameless one!” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + But when the Rajah proposed an adjournment to the gathering-room of the + car, and to luncheon therein, he surprised them standing hand-in-hand and + laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Hah, you little rebel!” he said. “Do you think you dese've that block of + stock I promised you when you should marry? Anseh me, my deah.” + </p> + <p> + She blushed and shook her head, but the brown eyes were dancing. + </p> + <p> + The Rajah opened the car door with his courtliest bow. + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, you shall have it, my deah Virginia, if only to remind an + old man of the time when he was simple enough to make a business + confederate of a cha'ming young woman. Straight on, Misteh Adams; afteh + you, Misteh Winton.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Fool For Love, by Francis Lynde + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FOOL FOR LOVE *** + +***** This file should be named 8073-h.htm or 8073-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/0/7/8073/ + +Produced by Ketaki Chhabra, Wendy Crockett, and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: A Fool For Love + +Author: Francis Lynde + +Release Date: May, 2005 [EBook #8073] +[This file was first posted on June 11, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, A FOOL FOR LOVE *** + + + + +Produced by Ketaki Chhabra and Wendy Crockett + + + +A FOOL FOR LOVE + +_By_ + +FRANCIS LYNDE + +Author of "The Grafters," "The Master of Appleby," etc. + + + + + + + +CONTENTS + + I In Which We Take Passage on the Limited + II In Which an Engine is Switched + III In Which an Itinerary is Changed + IV The Crystalline Altitudes + V The Landslide + VI The Rajah Gives an Order + VII The Majesty of the Law + VIII The Greeks Bringing Gifts + IX The Block Signal + X Spiked Switches + XI The Right of Way + + + + +I + +IN WHICH WE TAKE PASSAGE ON THE LIMITED + + +It was a December morning,--the Missouri December of mild temperatures +and saturated skies,--and the Chicago and Alton's fast train, dripping +from the rush through the wet night, had steamed briskly to its +terminal track in the Union Station at Kansas City. + +Two men, one smoking a short pipe and the other snapping the ash from +a scented cigarette, stood aloof from the hurrying throngs on the +platform, looking on with the measured interest of those who are in +a melee but not of it. + +"More delay," said the cigarettist, glancing at his watch. "We are +over an hour late now. Do we get any of it back on the run to Denver?" + +The pipe-smoker shook his head. + +"Hardly, I should say. The Limited is a pretty heavy train to pick +up lost time. But it won't make any particular difference. The western +connections all wait for the Limited, and we shall reach the seat +of war to-morrow night, according to the Boston itinerary." + +Mr. Morton P. Adams flung away the unburned half of his cigarette +and masked a yawn behind his hand. + +"It's no end of a bore, Winton, and that is the plain, unlacquered +fact," he protested. "I think the governor owes me something. I +worried through the Tech because he insisted that I should have a +profession; and now I am going in for field work with you in a howling +winter wilderness because he insists on a practical demonstration. +I shall ossify out there in those mountains. It's written in the +book." + +"Humph! it's too bad about you," said the other ironically. He was +a fit figure of a man, clean-cut and vigorous, from the steadfast +outlook of the gray eyes and the firm, smooth-shaven jaw to the square +fingertips of the strong hands, and his smile was of good-natured +contempt. "As you say, it is an outrage on filial complaisance. All +the same, with the right-of-way fight in prospect, Quartz Creek Canyon +may not prove to be such a valley of dry bones as--Look out, there!" + +The shifting-engine had cut a car from the rear of the lately-arrived +Alton, and was sending it down the outbound track to a coupling with +the Transcontinental Limited. Adams stepped back and let it miss him +by a hand's-breadth, and as the car was passing, Winton read the name +on the paneling. + +"The Rosemary: somebody's twenty-ton private outfit. That cooks our +last chance of making up any lost time between this and tomorrow--" + +He broke off abruptly. On the square rear observation platform of +the private car were three ladies. One of them was small and +blue-eyed, with wavy little puffs of snowy hair peeping out under +her dainty widow's cap. Another was small and blue-eyed, with wavy +masses of flaxen hair caught up from a face which might have served +as a model for the most exquisite bisque figure that ever came out +of France. But Winton saw only the third. + +She was taller than either of her companions--tall and straight and +lithe; a charming embodiment of health and strength and beauty: +clear-skinned, brown-eyed--a very goddess fresh from the bath, in +Winton's instant summing up of her, and her crown of red-gold hair +helped out the simile. + +Now, thus far in his thirty-year pilgrimage John Winton, man and +boy, had lived the intense life of a working hermit, so far as the +social gods and goddesses were concerned. Yet he had a pang--of +disappointment or pointless jealousy, or something akin to both--when +Adams lifted his hat to this particular goddess, was rewarded by a +little cry of recognition, and stepped up to the platform to be +presented to the elder and younger Bisques. + +So, as we say, Winton turned and walked away as one left out, feeling +one moment as though he had been defrauded of a natural right, and +deriding himself the next, as a sensible man should. After a bit he +was able to laugh at the "sudden attack," as he phrased it, but later, +when he and Adams were settled for the day-long run in the Denver +sleeper, and the Limited was clanking out over the switches, he +brought the talk around with a carefully assumed air of lack-interest +to the party in the private car. + +"She is a friend of yours, then?" he said, when Adams had taken the +baited hook open-eyed. + +The Technologian modified the assumption. + +"Not quite in your sense of the word, I fancy. I met her a number +of times at the houses of mutual friends in Boston. She was studying +at the Conservatory." + +"But she isn't a Bostonian," said Winton confidently. + +"Miss Virginia?--hardly. She is a Carteret of the Carterets; +Virginia-born-bred-and-named. Stunning girl, isn't she?" + +"No," said Winton shortly, resenting the slang for no reason that +he could have set forth in words. + +Adams lighted another of the scented villainies, and his clean-shaven +face wrinkled itself in a slow smile. + +"Which means that she has winged you at sight, I suppose, as she does +most men." Then he added calmly, "It's no go." + +"What is 'no go'?" + +Adams laughed unfeelingly, and puffed away at his cigarette. + +"You remind me of the fable about the head-hiding ostrich. Didn't +I see you staring at her as if you were about to have a fit? But it +is just as I tell you: it's no go. She isn't the marrying kind. If +you knew her, she'd be nice to you till she got a good chance to flay +you alive--" + +"Break it off!" growled Winton. + +"Presently. As I was saying, she would miss the chance of marrying +the best man in the world for the sake of taking a rise out of him. +Moreover, she comes of old Cavalier stock with an English earldom +at the back of it, and she is inordinately proud of the fact; while +you--er--you've given me to understand that you are a man of the +people, haven't you?" + +Winton nodded absently. It was one of his minor fads to ignore his +lineage, which ran decently back to a Colonial governor on his +father's side, and to assert that he did not know his grandfather's +middle name--which was accounted for by the very simple fact that +the elder Winton had no middle name. + +"Well, that settles it definitely," was the Bostonian's comment. +"Miss Carteret is of the _sang azur_. The man who marries her will +have to know his grandfather's middle name--and a good bit more +besides." + +Winton's laugh was mockingly good-natured. + +"You have missed your calling by something more than a hair's-breadth, +Morty. You should have been a novelist. Give you a spike and a +cross-tie and you'd infer a whole railroad. But you pique my +curiosity. Where are these American royalties of yours going in the +Rosemary?" + +"To California. The car belongs to Mr. Somerville Darrah, who is +vice-president and manager in fact of the Colorado and Grand River +road: the 'Rajah,' they call him. He is a relative of the Carterets, +and the party is on its way to spend the winter on the Pacific coast." + +"And the little lady in the widow's cap: is she Miss Carteret's +mother?" + +"Miss Bessie Carteret's mother and Miss Virginia's aunt. She is the +chaperon of the party." + +Winton was silent while the Limited was roaring through a village +on the Kansas side of the river. When he spoke again it was not of +the Carterets; it was of the Carterets' kinsman and host. + +"I have heard somewhat of the Rajah," he said half-musingly. "In +fact, I know him, by sight. He is what the magazinists are fond of +calling an 'industry colonel,' a born leader who has fought his way +to the front. If the Quartz Creek row is anything more than a stiff +bluff on the part of the C. G. R. it will be quite as well for us +if Mr. Somerville Darrah is safely at the other side of the +continent--and well out of ordinary reach of the wires." + +Adams came to attention with a half-hearted attempt to galvanize an +interest in the business affair. + +"Tell me more about this mysterious jangle we are heading for," he +rejoined. "Have I enlisted for a soldier when I thought I was only +going into peaceful exile as assistant engineer of construction on +the Utah Short Line?" + +"That remains to be seen." Winton took a leaf from his pocket +memorandum and drew a rough outline map. "Here is Denver, and here +is Carbonate," he explained. "At present the Utah is running into +Carbonate this way over the rails of the C. G. R. on a joint track +agreement which either line may terminate by giving six months' +notice of its intention to the other. Got that?" + +"To have and to hold," said Adams. "Go on." + +"Well, on the first day of September the C. G. R. people gave the +Utah management notice to quit." + +"They are bloated monopolists," said Adams sententiously. "Still I +don't see why there should be any scrapping over the line in Quartz +Creek Canyon." + +"No? You are not up in monopolistic methods. In six months from +September first the Utah people will be shut out of Carbonate +business, which is all that keeps that part of their line alive. +If they want a share of that traffic after March first, they will +have to have a road of their own to carry it over." + +"Precisely," said Adams, stifling a yawn. "They are building one, +aren't they?" + +"Trying to," Winton amended. "But, unfortunately, the only practicable +route through the mountains is up Quartz Creek Canyon, and the canyon +is already occupied by a branch line of the Colorado and Grand River." + +"Still I don't see why there should be any scrap." + +"Don't you? If the Rajah's road can keep the new line out of Carbonate +till the six months have expired, it will have a monopoly of all the +carrying trade of the camp. By consequence it can force every shipper +in the district to make iron-clad contracts, so that when the Utah +line is finally completed it won't be able to secure any freight for +a year, at least." + +"Oho! that's the game, is it? I begin to savvy the burro: that's the +proper phrase, isn't it? And what are our chances?" + +"We have about one in a hundred, as near as I could make out from +Mr. Callowell's statement of the case. The C. G. R. people are moving +heaven and earth to obstruct us in the canyon. If they can delay the +work a little longer, the weather will do the rest. With the first +heavy snow in the mountains, which usually comes long before this, +the Utah will have to put up its tools and wait till next summer." + +Adams lighted another cigarette. + +"Pardon me if I seem inquisitive," he said, "but for the life of me +I can't understand what these obstructionists can do. Of course, they +can't use force." + +Winton's smile was grim. "Can't they? Wait till you get on the ground. +But the first move was peaceable enough. They got an injunction from +the courts restraining the new line from encroaching on their right +of way." + +"Which was a thing that nobody wanted to do," said Adams, between +inhalations. + +"Which was a thing the Utah _had_ to do," corrected Winton. "The +canyon is a narrow gorge--a mere slit in parts of it. That is where +they have us." + +"Oh, well," returned Adams, "I suppose we took an appeal and asked +to have the injunction set aside?" + +"We did, promptly; and that is the present status of the fight. The +appeal decision has not yet been handed down; and in the meantime +we go on building railroad, incurring all the penalties for contempt +of court with every shovelful of earth moved. Do you still think you +will be in danger of ossifying?" + +Adams let the question rest while he asked one of his own. + +"How do you come to be mixed up in it, Jack? A week ago some one +told me you were going to South America to build a railroad in the +Andes. What switched you?" + +Winton shook his head. "Fate, I guess; that and a wire from President +Callowell of the Utah offering me this. Chief of Construction Evarts, +in charge of the work in Quartz Creek Canyon, said what you said a +few minutes ago--that he had not hired out for a soldier. He resigned, +and I'm taking his berth." + +Adams rose and buttoned his coat. + +"By all of which it seems that we two are in for a good bit more +than the ossifying exile," he remarked. And then: "I am going back +into the Rosemary to pay my respects to Miss Virginia Carteret. Won't +you come along?" + +"No," said Winton, more shortly than the invitation warranted; and +the other went his way alone. + + + + +II + +IN WHICH AN ENGINE IS SWITCHED + + +"'Scuse me, sah; private cyah, sah." + +It was the porter's challenge in the vestibule of the Rosemary. Adams +found a card. + +"Take that to Miss Carteret--Miss Virginia Carteret," he directed, and +waited till the man came back with his welcome. + +The extension table in the open rear third of the private car was +closed to its smallest dimensions, and the movable furnishings were +disposed about the compartment to make it a comfortable lounging room. + +Mrs. Carteret was propped among the cushions of a divan with a book. +Her daughter occupied the undivided half of a tete-a-tete chair with +a blond athlete in a clerical coat and a reversed collar. Miss +Virginia was sitting alone at a window, but she rose and came to greet +the visitor. + +"How good of you to take pity on us!" she said, giving him her hand. +Then she put him at one with the others: "Aunt Martha you have met; +also Cousin Bessie. Let me present you to Mr. Calvert: Cousin Billy, +this is Mr. Adams, who is responsible in a way for many of my +Boston-learned gaucheries." + +Aunt Martha closed the book on her finger. "My dear Virginia!" she +protested in mild deprecation; and Adams laughed and shook hands with +the Reverend William Calvert and made Virginia's peace all in the same +breath. + +"Don't apologize for Miss Virginia, Mrs. Carteret. We were very good +friends in Boston, chiefly, I think, because I never objected when she +wanted to--er--to take a rise out of me." Then to Virginia: "I hope I +don't intrude?" + +"Not in the least. Didn't I just say you were good to come? Uncle +Somerville tells us we are passing through the famous Golden +Belt,--whatever that may be,--and recommends an easy-chair and a +window. But I haven't seen anything but stubble-fields--dismally wet +stubble-fields at that. Won't you sit down and help me watch them go +by?" + +Adams placed a chair for her and found one for himself. + +"'Uncle Somerville'--am I to have the pleasure of meeting Mr. +Somerville Darrah?" + +Miss Virginia's laugh was non-committal. + +"_Quien sabe_?" she queried, airing her one Westernism before she was +fairly in the longitude of it. "Uncle Somerville is a law unto +himself. He had a lot of telegrams and things at Kansas City, and he +is locked in his den with Mr. Jastrow, dictating answers by the +dozen, I suppose." + +"Oh, these industry colonels!" said Adams. "Don't their toilings make +you ache in sheer sympathy sometimes?" + +"No, indeed," was the prompt rejoinder; "I envy them. It must be fine +to have large things to do, and to be able to do them." + +"Degenerate scion of a noble race!" jested Adams. "What ancient +Carteret of them all would have compromised with the necessities by +becoming a captain of industry?" + +"It wasn't their _metier_, or the _metier_ of their times," said Miss +Virginia with conviction. "They were sword-soldiers merely because +that was the only way a strong man could conquer in those days. Now it +is different, and a strong man fights quite as nobly in another +field--and deserves quite as much honor." + +"Think so? I don't agree with you--as to the fighting, I mean. I like +to take things easy. A good club, a choice of decent theaters, the +society of a few charming young women like--" + +She broke him with a mocking laugh. + +"You were born a good many centuries too late, Mr. Adams; you would +have fitted so beautifully, into decadent Rome." + +"No--thanks. Twentieth-century America, with the commercial frenzy +taken out of it, is good enough for me. I was telling Winton a little +while ago--" + +"Your friend of the Kansas City station platform?" she interrupted. +"Mightn't you introduce us a little less informally?" + +"Beg pardon, I'm sure--yours and Jack's: Mr. John Winton, of New York +and the world at large, familiarly known to his intimates--and they +are precious few--as 'Jack W.' As I was about to say--" + +But she seemed to find a malicious satisfaction in breaking in upon +him. + +"'Mr. John Winton': it's a pretty name as names go, but it isn't as +strong as he is. He is an 'industry colonel,' isn't he? He looks it." + +The Bostonian avenged himself at Winton's expense for the unwelcome +interruption. + +"So much for your woman's intuition," he laughed. "Speaking of idlers, +there is your man to the dotting of the 'i'; a dilettante raised to +the _nth_ power." + +Miss Carteret's short upper lip curled in undisguised scorn. + +"I like men who do things," she asserted with pointed emphasis; +whereupon the talk drifted eastward to Boston, and Winton was ignored +until Virginia, having exhausted the reminiscent vein, said, "You are +going on through to Denver?" + +"To Denver and beyond," was the reply. "Winton has a notion of +hibernating in the mountains--fancy it; in the dead of winter!--and he +has persuaded me to go along. He sketches a little, you know." + +"Oh, so he is an artist?" said Virginia, with interest newly aroused. + +"No," said Adams gloomily, "he isn't an artist--isn't much of +anything, I'm sorry to say. Worse than all, he doesn't know his +grandfather's middle name. Told me so himself." + +"That is inexcusable--in a dilettante," said Miss Virginia mockingly. +"Don't you think so?" + +"It is inexcusable in anyone," said the Technologian, rising to take +his leave. Then, as a parting word: "Does the Rosemary set its own +table? or do you dine in the dining-car?" + +"In the dining-car, if we have one. Uncle Somerville lets us dodge the +Rosemary's cook whenever we can," was the answer; and with this bit of +information Adams went his way to the Denver sleeper. + +Finding Winton in his section, poring over a blue-print map and making +notes thereon after the manner of a man hard at work, Adams turned +back to the smoking-compartment. + +Now for Mr. Morton P. Adams the salt of life was a joke, harmless or +otherwise, as the tree might fall. So, during the long afternoon which +he wore out in solitude, there grew up in him a keen desire to see +what would befall if these two whom he had so grotesquely +misrepresented each to the other should come together in the pathway +of acquaintanceship. + +But how to bring them together was a problem which refused to be +solved until chance pointed the way. Since the Limited had lost +another hour during the day there was a rush for the dining-car as +soon as the announcement of its taking-on had gone through the train. +Adams and Winton were of this rush, and so were the members of Mr. +Somerville Darrah's party. In the seating the party was separated, as +room at the crowded tables could be found; and Miss Virginia's fate +gave her the unoccupied seat at one of the duet tables, opposite a +young man with steadfast gray eyes and a firm jaw. + +Winton was equal to the emergency, or thought he was. Adams was still +within call and he beckoned him, meaning to propose an exchange of +seats. But the Bostonian misunderstood wilfully. + +"Most happy, I'm sure," he said, coming instantly to the rescue. "Miss +Carteret, my friend signals his dilemma. May I present him?" + +Virginia smiled and gave the required permission in a word. But for +Winton self-possession fled shrieking. + +"Ah--er--I hope you know Mr. Adams well enough to make allowances for +his--for his--" He broke down helplessly and she had to come to his +assistance. + +"For his imagination?" she suggested. "I do, indeed; we are quite old +friends." + +Here was "well enough," but Winton was a man and could not let it +alone. + +"I should be very sorry to have you think for a moment that I +would--er--so far forget myself," he went on fatuously. "What I had +in mind was an exchange of seats with him. I thought it would be +pleasanter for you; that is, I mean, pleasanter for--" He stopped +short, seeing nothing but a more hopeless involvement ahead; also +because he saw signals of distress or of mirth flying in the brown +eyes. + +"Oh, please!" she protested in mock humility. "Do leave my vanity just +the tiniest little cranny to creep out of, Mr. Winton. I'll promise to +be good and not bore you too desperately." + +At this, as you would imagine, the pit of utter self-abasement yawned +for Winton, and he plunged headlong, holding the bill of fare wrong +side up when the waiter asked for his dinner order, and otherwise +demeaning himself like a man taken at a hopeless disadvantage. She +took pity on him. + +"But let's ignore Mr. Adams," she went on sweetly. "I am much more +interested in this," touching the bill of fare. "Will you order for +me, please? I like--" + +When she had finished the list of her likings, Winton was able to +smile at his lapse into the primitive, and gave the dinner order for +two with a fair degree of coherence. After that they got on better. +Winton knew Boston, and, next to the weather, Boston was the safest +and most fruitful of the commonplaces. Nevertheless, it was not +immortal; and Winton was just beginning to cast about for some other +safe riding road for the shallop of small talk when Miss Carteret sent +it adrift with malice aforethought. + +It was somewhere between the entrees and the fruit, and the point of +departure was Boston art. + +"Speaking of art, Mr. Winton, will you tell me how you came to think +of sketching in the mountains of Colorado at this time of year? I +should think the cold would be positively prohibitive of anything like +that." + +Winton stared--open-mouthed, it is to be feared. + +"I--I beg your pardon," he stammered, with the inflection which takes +its pitch from blank bewilderment. + +Miss Virginia was happy. Dilettante he might be, and an unhumbled man +of the world as well; but, to use the Reverend Billy's phrase, she +could make him "sit up." + +"I beg yours, I'm sure," she said demurely. "I didn't know it was a +craft secret." + +Winton looked across the aisle to the table where the Technologian was +sitting opposite a square-shouldered, ruddy-faced gentleman with fiery +eyes and fierce white mustaches, and shook a figurative fist. + +"I'd like to know what Adams has been telling you," he said. +"Sketching in the mountains in midwinter! that would be decidedly +original, to say the least of it. And I think I have never done an +original thing in all my life." + +For a single instant the brown eyes looked their pity for him; generic +pity it was, of the kind that mounting souls bestow upon the stagnant. +But the subconscious lover in Winton made it personal to him, and it +was the lover who spoke when he went on. + +"That is a damaging admission, is it not? I am sorry to have to make +it--to have to confirm your poor opinion of me." + +"Did I say anything like that?" she protested. + +"Not in words; but your eyes said it, and I know you have been +thinking it all along. Don't ask me how I know it: I couldn't explain +it if I should try. But you have been pitying me, in a way--you know +you have." + +The brown eyes were downcast. Frank and free-hearted after her kind as +she was, Virginia Carteret was finding it a new and singular +experience to have a man tell her baldly at their first meeting that +he had read her inmost thought of him. Yet she would not flinch or go +back. + +"There is so much to be done in the world, and so few to do the work," +she pleaded in extenuation. + +"And Adams has told you that I am not one of the few? It is true +enough to hurt." + +She looked him fairly in the eyes. "What is lacking, Mr. Winton--the +spur?" + +"Possibly," he rejoined. "There is no one near enough to care, or to +say 'Well done!'" + +"How can you tell?" she questioned musingly. "It is not always +permitted to us to hear the plaudits or the hisses--happily, I think. +Yet there are always those standing by who are ready to cry '_Io +triumphe_!' and mean it, when one approves himself a good soldier." + +The coffee had been served, and Winton sat thoughtfully stirring the +lump of sugar in his cup. Miss Carteret was not having a monopoly of +the new experiences. For instance, it had never before happened to +John Winton to have a woman, young, charming, and altogether lovable, +read him a lesson out of the book of the overcomers. + +He smiled inwardly and wondered what she would say if she could know +to what battlefield the drumming wheels of the Limited were speeding +him. Would she be loyal to her mentorship and tell him he must win, at +whatever the cost to Mr. Somerville Darrah and his business +associates? Or would she, womanlike, be her uncle's partizan and write +one John Winton down in her blackest book for daring to oppose the +Rajah? + +He assured himself it would make no jot of difference if he knew. He +had a thing to do, and he was purposed to do it strenuously, +inflexibly. Yet in the inmost chamber of his heart, where the +barbarian ego stands unabashed and isolate and recklessly contemptuous +of the moralities minor and major, he saw the birth of an influence +which inevitably must henceforth be desperately reckoned with. + +Given a name, this new-born life-factor was love; love barely +awakened, and as yet no more than a masterful desire to stand well in +the eyes of one woman. None the less, he saw the possibilities: that a +time might come when this woman would have the power to intervene; +would make him hold his hand in the business affair at the very +moment, mayhap, when he should strike the hardest. + +It was a rather unnerving thought, and when he considered it he was +glad that their ways, coinciding for the moment, would presently go +apart, leaving him free to do battle as an honest soldier in any cause +must. + +The Rosemary party was rising, and Winton rose, too, folding the seat +for Miss Virginia and carefully reaching her wrap from the rack. + +"I am so glad to have met you," she said, giving him the tips of her +fingers and going back to the conventionalities as if they had never +been ignored. + +But the sincerity in Winton's reply transcended the conventional form +of it. + +"Indeed, the pleasure has been wholly mine, I assure you. I hope the +future will be kind to me and let me see more of you." + +"Who knows?" she rejoined, smiling at him level-eyed. "The world has +been steadily growing smaller since Shakespeare called it 'narrow.'" + +He caught quickly at the straw of hope. "Then we need not say +good-by?" + +"No; let it be _auf Wiedersehen_," she said; and he stood aside to +allow her to join her party. + +Two hours later, when Adams was reading in his section and Winton was +smoking his short pipe in the men's compartment and thinking things +unspeakable with Virginia Carteret for a nucleus, there was a series +of sharp whistle-shrieks, a sudden grinding of the brakes, and a +jarring stop of the Limited--a stop not down on the time-card. + +Winton was among the first to reach the head of the long train. The +halt was in a little depression of the bleak plain, and the train-men +were in conference over a badly-derailed engine when Winton came up. +A vast herd of cattle was lumbering away into the darkness, and a +mangled carcass under the wheels of the locomotive sufficiently +explained the accident. + +"Well, there's only the one thing to do," was the engineer's verdict. +"That's for somebody to mog back to Arroyo to wire for the +wreck-wagon." + +"Yes, by gum! and that means all night," growled the conductor. + +There was a stir in the gathering throng of half-alarmed and +all-curious passengers, and a red-faced, white-mustached gentleman, +whose soft southern accent was utterly at variance with his manner, +hurled a question bolt-like at the conductor. + +"All night, you say, seh? Then we miss ouh Denver connections?" + +"You can bet to win on that," was the curt reply. + +"Damn!" said the ruddy-faced gentleman; and then in a lower tone: "I +beg your pahdon, my deah Virginia; I was totally unaware of your +presence." + +Winton threw off his overcoat. + +"If you will take a bit of help from an outsider, I think we needn't +wait for the wrecking-car," he said to the dubious trainmen. "It's +bad, but not so bad as it looks. What do you say?" + +Now, as everyone knows, it is not in the nature of operative railway +men to brook interference even of the helpful sort. But they are as +quick as other folk to recognize the man in essence, as well as to +know the clan slogan when they hear it. Winton did not wait for +objections, but took over the command as one in authority. + +"Think we can't do it? I'll show you. Up on the tank, one of you, and +heave down the jacks and frogs. We'll have her on the steel again +before you can say your prayers." + +At the hearty command, churlish reluctance vanished and everybody lent +a willing hand. In two minutes the crew of the Limited knew it was +working under a master. The frogs were adjusted under the derailed +wheels, the jack-screws were braced to lift and push with the nicest +accuracy, and all was ready for the attempt to back the engine in +trial. But now the engineer shook his bead. + +"I ain't the artist to move her gently enough with all that string o' +dinkeys behind her," he said unhopefully. + +"No?" said Winton. "Come up into the cab with and I'll show you how." +And he climbed to the driver's footboard with the doubting engineer at +his heels. + +The reversing-lever went over with a clash; the air whistled into the +brakes; and Winton began to ease the throttle open. The steam sang +into the cylinders, the huge machine trembling like a living thing +under the hand of a master. + +Slowly and by almost imperceptible degrees the life of the pent-up +boiler power crept into the pistons and out through the connecting +rods to the wheels. With the first thrill of the gripping tires Winton +leaned from the window to watch the derailed trucks climb by +half-inches up the inclined planes of the frogs. + +At the critical instant, when the entire weight of the forward half of +the engine was poising for the drop upon the rails, he gave the +precise added impulse. The big ten-wheeler coughed hoarsely and spat +fire; the driving-wheels made a quick half-turn backward; and a cheer +from the onlookers marked the little triumph of mind over matter. + +Winton found Miss Carteret holding his overcoat when he swung down +from the cab, and he fancied her enthusiasm was tempered with +something remotely like embarrassment. But she suffered him to walk +back to the private car beside her; and in this sudden retreat from +the scene of action he missed hearing the comments of his fellow +craftsmen. + +"You bet, he's no 'prentice," said the fireman. + +"Not much!" quoth the engineer. "He's an all-round artist, that's +about what he is. Shouldn't wonder if he was the travelin' engineer +for some road back in God's country." + +"Travelin' nothing!" said the conductor. "More likely he's a +train-master, 'r p'raps a bigger boss than that. Call in the flag, +Jim, and we'll be getting a move." + +Oddly enough, the comment on Winton did not pause with the encomiums +of the train crew. When the Limited was once more rushing on its way +through the night, and Virginia and her cousin were safe in the +privacy of their state-room, Miss Carteret added her word. + +"Do you know, Bessie, I think it was Mr. Adams who scored this +afternoon?" she said. + +"How so?" inquired _la petite_ Bisque, who was too sleepy to be +over-curious. + +"I think he 'took a rise' out of me, as he puts it. Mr. Winton is +precisely all the kinds of man Mr. Adams said he wasn't." + + + + +III + +IN WHICH AN ITINERARY IS CHANGED + + +It was late breakfast time when the Transcontinental Limited swept +around the great curve in the eastern fringe of Denver, paused for a +registering moment at "yard limits," and went clattering in over the +switches to come to rest at the end of its long westward run on the +in-track at the Union Depot. + +Having wired ahead to have his mail meet him at the yard limits +registering station, Winton was ready to make a dash for the telegraph +office the moment the train stopped. + +"That is our wagon, over there on the narrow-gage," he said to Adams, +pointing out the waiting mountain train. "Have the porter transfer our +dunnage, and I'll be with you as soon as I can send a wire or two." + +On the way across the broad platform he saw the yard crew cutting out +the Rosemary, and had a glimpse of Miss Virginia clinging to the +hand-rail and enjoying enthusiastically, he fancied, her first view of +the mighty hills to the westward. + +The temptation to let the telegraphing wait while he went to say good +morning to her was strong, but he resisted it and hastened the more +for the hesitant thought. Nevertheless, when he reached the telegraph +office he found Mr. Somerville Darrah and his secretary there ahead of +him, and he observed that the explosive gentleman who presided over +the destinies of the Colorado and Grand River appeared to be in a more +than usually volcanic frame of mind. + +Now Winton, though new to the business of building railroads for the +Utah Short Line, was not new to Denver or Colorado. Hence when the +Rajah, followed by his secretarial shadow, had left the office, Winton +spoke to the operator as to a friend. + +"What is the matter with Mr. Darrah, Tom? He seems to be uncommonly +vindictive this morning." + +The man of dots and dashes nodded. + +"He's always crankier this time than he was the other. He's a holy +terror, the Rajah is. I wouldn't work on his road for a farm down +East--not if my job took me within cussing distance of him. Bet a hen +worth fifty dollars he is up in Mr. Colbert's office right now, +raising particular sand because his special engine wasn't standing +here ready to snatch his private car on the fly, so's to go on without +losing headway." + +Winton frowned thoughtfully, and he let his writing hand pause while +he said, "So he travels special from Denver, does he?" + +"On his own road?--well, I should smile. Nothing is too good for the +Rajah; or too quick, when he happens to be in a hurry. I wonder he +didn't have the T. C. pull him special from Kansas City." + +Winton handed in his batch of telegrams and went his way reflective. + +What was Mr. Somerville Darrah's particular rush? As set forth by +Adams, the plans of the party in the Rosemary contemplated nothing +more hasty than a leisurely trip to the Pacific coast--a pleasure +jaunt with a winter sojourn in California to lengthen it. Why, then, +this sudden change from Limited regular trains to unlimited specials? +Was there fresh news from the seat of war in Quartz Creek Canyon? +Winton thought not. In that case he would have had his budget as well; +and so far as his own advices went, matters were still as they had +been. A letter from the Utah attorneys in Carbonate assured him that +the injunction appeal was not yet decided, and another from Chief of +Construction Evarts concerned itself mainly with the major's desire to +know when he was to be relieved. + +But if Winton could have been an eavesdropper behind the door of +Superintendent Colbert's office on the second floor of the Union +Depot, his doubts would have been resolved instantly. + +The telegraph operator's guess went straight to the mark. Mr. Darrah +was "raising particular sand" because his wire order for a special +engine had not been obeyed to the saving of the ultimate second of +time. But between his objurgations on that score, he was rasping out +questions designed to exhaust the chief clerk's store of information +concerning the status of affairs at the seat of war. + +"Will you inform me, seh, why I wasn't wired that this beggahly appeal +was going against us?" he demanded wrathfully. "What's that you say, +seh? Don't tell me you couldn't know what the decision of the cou't +was going to be before it was handed down: that's what you-all are +heah for--to find out these things! And what is all this about Majah +Eva'ts resigning, and the Utah's sending East for a professional +right-of-way fighteh to take his place? Who is this new man? Don't +know? Dammit, seh! it's your business to know! _Now when do you faveh +me with my engine_?" + +Thus the Rajah; and the chief clerk, himself known from end to end of +the Colorado and Grand River as a queller of men, could only point out +of the window to where the Rosemary stood engined and equipped for the +race, and say meekly: "I'm awfully sorry you've been delayed, Mr. +Darrah; very sorry, indeed. But your car is ready now. Shall I go +along to be on hand if you need me?" + +"No, seh!" stormed the irate master; and the chief clerk's face became +instantly expressive of the keenest relief. "You stay right heah and +see that the wires to Qua'tz Creek are kept open--wide open, seh. And +when you get an ordeh from me--for an engine, a regiment of the +National Gyua'd, or a train-load of white elephants--you fill it. Do +you understand, seh?" + +Meantime, while this scene was getting itself enacted in the +superintendent's office, a mild fire of consternation was alight in +the gathering room of the Rosemary. As we have guessed, Winton's +packet of mail was not the only one which was delivered by special +arrangement that morning to the incoming Limited at the yard +registering station. There had been another, addressed to Mr. +Somerville Darrah; and when he had opened it there had been a volcanic +explosion and a hurried dash for the telegraph office, as recorded. + +Sifted out by the Reverend Billy, and explained by him to Mrs. +Carteret and Bessie, the firing spark of the explosion appeared to be +some news of an untoward character from a place vaguely designated as +"the front." + +"It seems that there is some sort of a right-of-way scrimmage going on +up in the mountains between our road and the Utah Short Line," said +the young man. "It was carried into the courts, and now it turns out +that the decision has gone against us." + +"How perfectly horrid!" said Miss Bessie. "Now I suppose we shall have +to stay here indefinitely while Uncle Somerville does things." And +placid Mrs. Carteret added plaintively: "It's too bad! I think they +might let him have one little vacation in peace." + +"Who talks of peace?" queried Virginia, driven in from her post of +vantage on the observation platform by the smoke from the +switching-engine. "Didn't I see Uncle Somerville charging across to +the telegraph office with war written out large in every line of him?" + +"I am afraid you did," affirmed the Reverend Billy; and thereupon the +explanation was rehearsed for Virginia's benefit. + +The brown eyes flashed militant sympathy. + +"Oh, I wish Uncle Somerville would go to 'the front,' wherever that +is, and take us along!" she cried. "It would be ever so much better +than California." + +The Reverend William laughed; and Aunt Martha put in her word of +expostulation, as in duty bound. + +"Why, my dear Virginia--the idea! You don't know in the least what you +are talking about. I have been reading in the papers about these +right-of-way troubles, and they are perfectly terrible. One report +said they were arming the laboring men, and another said the militia +might have to be called out." + +"Well, what of it?" said Virginia, with all the hardihood of youth and +unknowledge. "It's something like a burning building: one doesn't want +to be hard-hearted and rejoice over other people's misfortunes; but +then, if it has to burn, one would like to be there to see." + +Miss Bessie put a stray lock of the flaxen hair up under its proper +comb. + +"I'm sure I prefer California and the orange-groves and peace," she +asserted. "Don't you, Cousin Billy?" + +What Mr. Calvert would have replied is no matter for this history, +since at this precise moment the Rajah came in, "coruscating," as +Virginia put it, from his late encounter with the superintendent's +chief clerk. + +"Give them the word to go, Jastrow, and let's get out of heah," he +commanded. And when the secretary had vanished the Rajah made his +explanations to all and sundry. "I've been obliged in a manneh to +change ouh itinerary. Anotheh company is trying to fault us up in +Qua'tz Creek Canyon, and I am in a meashuh compelled to be on the +ground. We shall be delayed only a few days, I hope; at the worst only +until the first snow-storm comes; and, in the meantime, Califo'nia +won't run away." + +Virginia clapped her hands. + +"Then we are really to go to 'the front' and see a right-of-way fight? +Oh, won't that be perfectly intoxicating!" + +The Rajah glared at her as if she had said something incendiary. The +picturesque aspect of the struggle had evidently not appealed to him. +But he smiled grimly when he said: "Now there spoke the blood of the +fighting Carterets: hope you won't change your mind, my deah." And +with that he dived into his working den, pushing the lately-returned +secretary in ahead of him. + +Virginia linked arms with Bessie, the flaxen-haired, when the wheels +began to turn. + +"We are off," she said. "Let's go out on the platform and see the last +of Denver." + +It was while they were clinging to the hand-rail, and looking back +upon the jumble of railway activities out of which they had just +emerged that the Rosemary, gaining headway, overtook another moving +train running smoothly on a track parallel to that upon which the +private car was speeding. It was the narrow-gage mountain connection +of the Utah line, and Winton and Adams were on the rear platform of +the last car. So it chanced that the four of them were presently +waving their adieus across the wind-blown interspace. In the midst of +it, or rather at the moment when the Rosemary, gathering speed as the +lighter of the two trains, forged ahead, the Rajah came out to light +his cigar. + +He took in the little tableau of the rear platforms at a glance, and +when the slower train was left behind asked a question of Virginia. + +"Ah--wasn't one of those two the young gentleman who called on you +yestehday afternoon, my deah?" + +Virginia admitted it. + +"Could you faveh me with his name?" + +"He is Mr. Morton P. Adams, of Boston." + +"Ah-h! and his friend--the young gentleman who laid his hand to ouh +plow and put the engine on the track last night?" + +"He is Mr. Winton--a--an artist, I believe; at least, that is what I +gathered from what Mr. Adams said of him." + +Mr. Somerville Darrah laughed, a slow little laugh, deep in his chest. + +"Bless youh innocent soul--he a picchuh--painteh? Not in a thousand +yeahs, my deah Virginia. He is a railroad man, and a right good one at +that. Faveh me with the name again; Winteh, did you say?" + +"No; Winton--Mr. John Winton." + +"D-d-devil!" gritted the Rajah, smiting the hand-rail with his +clenched fist. "Hah! I beg your pahdon, my deahs--a meah slip of the +tongue." And then, to the full as savagely: "By Heaven, I hope that +train will fly the track and ditch him before eveh he comes within +ordering distance of the work in Qua'tz Creek Canyon!" + +"Why, Uncle Somerville--how vindictive!" cried Virginia. "Who is he, +and what has he done?" + +"He is Misteh John Winton, as you informed me just now; one of the +brainiest constructing engineers in this entiah country, and the +hardest man in this or any otheh country to down in a right-of-way +fight--that's who he is. And it's not what he's done, my deah +Virginia, it's what he is going to do. If I can't get him killed up +out of ouh way,"--but here Mr. Darrah saw the growing terror in two +pairs of eyes, and realizing that he was committing himself before an +unsympathetic audience, beat a hasty retreat to his stronghold at the +other end of the Rosemary. + +"Well!" said the flaxen-haired Bessie, catching her breath. But +Virginia laughed. + +"I'm glad I'm not Mr. Winton," she said. + + + + +IV + +THE CRYSTALLINE ALTITUDES + + +Morning in the highest highlands of the Rockies, a morning clear, +cold, and tense, with a bell-like quality in the frosty air to make +the cracking of a snow-laden spruce-bough resound like a pistol-shot. +For Denver and the dwellers on the eastern plain the sun is an hour +high; but the hamlet mining-camp of Argentine, with its dovecote +railway station and two-pronged siding, still lies in the steel-blue +depths of the canyon shadow. + +Massive mountains, dark green to the timber line and dazzling white +above it, shut in the narrow valley to right and left. A mimic +torrent, ice-bound in the quieter pools, drums and gurgles on its +descent midway between two railway embankments, the one to which the +station and side-tracks belong, old and well-settled, the other new +and as yet unballasted. Just opposite the pygmy station a lateral +gorge intersects the main canyon, making a deep gash in the opposing +mountain bulwark, around which the new line has to find its way by a +looping detour. + +In a scanty widening of the main canyon a few hundred yards below the +station a graders' camp of rude slab shelters is turning out its horde +of wild-looking Italians; and on a crooked spur track fronting the +shanties blue wood-smoke is curling lazily upward from the kitchen car +of a construction train. + +All night long the Rosemary, drawn by the sturdiest of mountain-climbing +locomotives, had stormed onward and upward from the valley of the +Grand, through black defiles and around the shrugged shoulders of the +mighty peaks to find a resting-place in the white-robed dawn on the +siding at Argentine. The lightest of sleepers, Virginia had awakened +when the special was passing through Carbonate; and, drawing the berth +curtain, she had lain for an hour watching the solemn procession of +cliffs and peaks wheeling in stately and orderly array against the +inky background of sky. Now, in the steel-blue dawn, she was--or +thought she was--the first member of the party to dress and steal out +upon the railed platform to look abroad upon the wondrous scene in the +canyon. + +But her reverie, trance-like in its wordless enthusiasm, was presently +broken by a voice behind her--the voice, namely, of Mr. Arthur +Jastrow. + +"What a howling wilderness, to be sure, isn't it?" said the secretary, +twirling his eyeglasses by the cord and looking, as he felt, +interminably bored. + +"No, indeed; anything but that," she retorted warmly. "It is grander +than anything I ever imagined. I wish there were a piano in the car. +It makes me fairly ache to set it in some form of expression, and +music is the only form I know." + +"I'm glad if it doesn't bore you," he rejoined, willing to agree with +her for the sake of prolonging the interview. "But to me it is nothing +more than a dreary wilderness, as I say; a barren, rock-ribbed gulch +affording an indifferent right of way for two railroads." + +"For one," she corrected, in a quick upflash of loyalty for her kin. + +The secretary shifted his gaze from the mountains to the maiden and +smiled. She was exceedingly good to look upon--high-bred, queenly, and +just now the fine fire of enthusiasm quickened her pulses and sent the +rare flush to neck and cheek. + +Jastrow the cold-eyed, the business automaton, set to go off with a +click at Mr. Somerville Darrah's touch, had ambitions not automatic. +Some day he meant to put the world of business under foot as a +conqueror, standing triumphant on the apex of that pyramid of success +which the Mr. Somerville Darrahs were so painstakingly uprearing. When +that day should come, there would need to be an establishment, a +menage, a queen for the kingdom of success. Summing her up for the +hundredth time since the beginning of the westward flight, he thought +Miss Carteret would fill the requirements passing well. + +But this was a divagation, and he pulled himself back to the askings +of the moment, agreeing with her again without reference to his +private convictions. + +"For one, I should have said," he amended. "We mean to have it that +way, though an unprejudiced onlooker might be foolish enough to say +that there is a pretty good present prospect of two." + +But Miss Carteret was in a contradictory mood. Moreover, she was a +woman, and the way to a woman's confidence does not lie through the +neutral country of easy compliance. + +"If you won't take the other side, I will," she said. "There will be +two." + +Jastrow acquiesced a second time. + +"I shouldn't wonder. Our competitor's road seems to be only a question +of time--a very short time, judging from the number of men turning out +in the track gang down yonder." + +Virginia leaned over the railing to look past the car and the dovecote +station shading her eyes to shut out the snow-blink from the sun-fired +peaks. + +"Why, they are soldiers!" she exclaimed. "At least, some of them have +guns on their shoulders. And see--they are forming in line!" + +The secretary adjusted his eye-glasses. + +"By Jove! you are right; they have armed the track force. The new +chief of construction doesn't mean to take any chances of being shaken +loose by main strength. Here they come." + +The end of track of the new line was diagonally across the creek from +the Rosemary's berth and a short pistol-shot farther down stream. But +to advance it to a point opposite the private car, and to gain the +altitude of the high embankment directly across from the station, the +new line turned short out of the main canyon at the mouth of the +intersecting gorge, describing a long, U-shaped curve around the head +of the lateral ravine and doubling back upon itself to reenter the +canyon proper at the higher elevation. + +The curve which was the beginning of this U-shaped loop was the +morning's scene of action, and the Utah track-layers, two hundred +strong, moved to the front in orderly array, with armed guards as +flankers for the handcar load of rails which the men were pushing up +the grade. + +Jastrow darted into the car, and a moment later his place on the +observation platform was taken by a wrathful industry colonel fresh +from his dressing-room--so fresh, indeed, that he was coatless, +hatless, and collarless, and with the dripping bath-sponge clutched +like a missile to hurl at the impudent invaders on the opposite side +of the canyon. + +"Hah! wouldn't wait until a man could get into his clothes!" he +rasped, apostrophizing the Utah's new chief of construction. "Jastrow! +Faveh me instantly, seh! Hustle up to the camp there and turn out the +constable, town-marshal, or whatever he is. Tell him I have a writ for +him to serve. Run, seh!" + +The secretary appeared and disappeared like a marionette when the +string has been jerked by a vigorous hand, and Virginia smiled--this +without prejudice to a very acute appreciation of the grave +possibilities which were preparing themselves. But having her share of +the militant quality which made her uncle what he was, she stood her +ground. + +"Aren't you afraid you will take cold, Uncle Somerville?" she asked +archly; and the Rajah came suddenly to a sense of his incompleteness +and went in to finish his ablutions against the opening of the battle +actual. + +At first Virginia thought she would follow him. When Mercury Jastrow +should return with the officer of the law there would be trouble of +some sort, and the woman in her shrank from the witnessing of it. But +at the same instant the blood of the fighting Carterets asserted +itself and she resolved to stay. + +"I wonder what uncle hopes to be able to do?" she mused. "Will a +little town constable with a bit of signed paper from some lawyer or +judge be mighty enough to stop all that furious activity over there? +It's more than incredible." + +From that she fell to watching the activity and the orderly purpose of +it. A length of steel, with men clustering like bees upon it, would +slide from its place on the hand-car to fall with a frosty clang on +the cross-ties. Instantly the hammermen would pounce upon it. One +would fall upon hands and knees to "sight" it into place; two others +would slide the squeaking track-gage along its inner edge; a quartet, +working like the component parts of a faultless mechanism, would tap +the fixing spikes into the wood; and then at a signal a dozen of the +heavy pointed hammers swung aloft and a rhythmic volley of resounding +blows clamped the rail into permanence on its wooden bed. + +Ahead of the steel-layers were the Italians placing the cross-ties in +position to receive the track, and here the foreman's badge of office +and scepter was a pick-handle. Above all the clamor and the shoutings +Virginia could hear the bull-bellow of this foreman roaring out his +commands--in terms happily not understandable to her; and once she +drew back with a little cry of womanly shrinking when the pick-handle +thwacked upon the shoulders of one who lagged. + +It was this bit of brutality which enabled her to single out Winton in +the throng of workers. He heard the blow, and the oath that went with +it, and she saw him run forward to wrench the bludgeon from the +bully's hands and fling it afar. What words emphasized the act she +could not hear, but the little deed of swift justice thrilled her +curiously, and her heart warmed to him as it had when he had thrown +off his coat to fall to work on the derailed engine of the Limited. + +"That was fine!" she said to herself. "Most men in his place wouldn't +care, so long as the work was done, and done quickly. I wonder +if--oh, you startled me!" + +It was Mr. Somerville Darrah again, clothed upon and in his right +mind; otherwise the mind of a master of men who will brook neither +defeat at the hands of an antagonist nor disobedience on the part of +his following. He was scowling fiercely across at the Utah activities +when she spoke, but at her exclamation the frown softened into a smile +for his favorite niece. + +"Startled you, eh? Pahdon me, my deah Virginia. But as I am about to +startle some one else, perhaps you would better go in to your aunt." + +She put a hand on his arm. "Please let me stay out here, Uncle +Somerville," she said. "I'll be good and not get in the way." + +He shook his head, in deprecation rather than in refusal. + +"An officer will be here right soon now to make an arrest. There may +be a fight, or at least trouble of a sort you wouldn't care to see, my +deah." + +"Is it--is it Mr. Winton?" she asked. + +He nodded. + +"What has he been doing--besides being 'The Enemy'?" + +The Rajah's smile was ferocious. + +"Just now he is trespassing, and directing others to trespass, upon +private property. Do you see that dump up there on the mountain?--the +hole that looks like a mouth with a long gray beard hanging below it? +That is a mine, and its claim runs down across the track where Misteh +Winton is just now spiking his rails." + +"But, I don't understand," she began; then she stopped short and clung +to the strong arm. A man in a wide-flapped hat and cowboy +_chaparejos_, with a revolver on either hip, was crossing the stream +on the ice-bridge to scramble up the embankment of the new line. + +"The officer?" she asked in an awed whisper. + +The Rajah made a sign of assent. Then, identifying Winton in the +throng of workers, he forgot Virginia's presence. "Confound him!" he +fumed. "I'd give a thousand dollars if he'd faveh me by showing fight +so we could lock him up on a criminal count!" + +"Why, Uncle Somerville!" she cried. + +But there was no time for reproaches. The leather-breeched person +parading as the Argentine town-marshal had climbed the embankment, +and, singling out his man, was reading his warrant. + +Contrary to Mr. Darrah's expressed hope, Winton submitted quietly. +With a word to his men--a word that stopped the strenuous labor-battle +as suddenly as it had begun--he turned to pick his way down the rough +hillside at the heels of the marshal. + +For some reason that she could never have set out in words Virginia +was distinctly disappointed. It was no part of her desire to see the +conflict blaze up in violence, but it nettled her to see Winton give +up so easily. Some such thought as this had possession of her while +the marshal and his prisoner were picking their way across the ice, +and she was hoping that Winton would give her a chance to requite him, +if only with a look. + +But it was Town-Marshal Peter Biggin, affectionately known to his +constituents as "Bigginjin Pete," who gave her the coveted +opportunity. Instead of disappearing decently with his captive, the +marshal made the mistake of his life by marching Winton up the track +to the private car, thrusting him forward, and saying: "Here's yer +meat, Guv'nor. What-all 'ud ye like fer me to do with hit now I've +got it?" + +Now it is safe to assume that the Rajah had no intention of appearing +thus openly as the instigator of Winton's arrest. Hence, if a fierce +scowl and a wordless oath could maim, it is to be feared that the +overzealous Mr. Biggin would have been physically disqualified on the +spot. As it was, Mr. Darrah's ebullient wrath could find no adequate +speech forms, and in the eloquent little pause Winton had time to +smile up at Miss Carteret and to wish her the pleasantest of +good-mornings. + +But the Rajah's handicap was not permanent. + +"Confound you, seh!" he exploded. "I'm not a justice of the peace! If +you've made an arrest, you must have had a warrant for it, and you +ought to know what to do with your prisoneh." + +"I'm dashed if I do," objected the simple-hearted Mr. Biggin. "I +allowed you wanted him." + +Winton laughed openly. + +"Simplify it for him, Mr. Darrah. We all know that it was your move to +stop the work, and you have stopped it--for the moment. What is the +charge, and where is it answerable?" + +The Rajah dropped the mask and spoke to the point. + +"The cha'ge, seh, is trespass, and it is answerable in Judge +Whitcomb's cou't in Carbonate. The plaintiff in this particular case +is John Doe, the supposable owneh of that mining claim up yondeh. In +the next it will probably be Richa'd Roe. You are fighting a losing +battle, seh." + +Winton's smile showed his teeth. + +"That remains to be seen," he countered coolly. + +The Rajah waved a shapely hand toward the opposite embankment, where +the tracklayers were idling in silent groups waiting for some one in +authority to tell them what to do. + +"We can do that every day, Misteh Winton. And each separate individual +arrest will cost your company twelve hours, or such a matteh--the time +required for you to go to Carbonate to give bond for your appearance." + +During this colloquy Virginia had held her ground stubbornly, this +though she felt intuitively that it would be the greatest possible +relief to all three of these men if she would go away. + +But now a curious struggle as of a divided allegiance was holding her. +Of course, she wanted Mr. Somerville Darrah to win. Since he was its +advocate, his cause must be righteous and just. But against this +dutiful convincement there was a rebellious hope that Winton would not +allow himself to be beaten; or, rather, it was a feeling that she +would never forgive him if he should. + +So it was that she stood with face averted lest he should see her eyes +and read the rebellious hope in them. And in spite of the precaution +he both saw and read, and made answer to the Rajah's ultimatum +accordingly. + +"Do your worst, Mr. Darrah. We have some twenty miles of steel to lay +to take us into the Carbonate yards. That steel shall go down in spite +of anything you can do to prevent it." + +Virginia waited breathless for her uncle's reply to this cool +defiance. Quite contrary to all precedent, it was mildly +expostulatory. + +"It grieves me, seh, to find you so determined to cou't failure," he +began; and when the whistle of the upcoming Carbonate train gave him +leave to go on: "Constable, you will find transpo'tation for yourself +and one in the hands of the station agent. Misteh Winton, that is your +train. I wish you good-morning and a pleasant journey. Come, Virginia, +we shall be late to ouh breakfast." + +Winton walked back to the station at the heels of his captor, +cudgeling his brain to devise some means of getting word to Adams. +Happily the Technologian, who had been unloading steel at the +construction camp, had been told of the arrest, and when Winton +reached the station he found his assistant waiting for him. + +But now the train was at hand and time had grown suddenly precious. +Winton turned short upon the marshal. + +"This is not a criminal matter, Mr. Biggin: will you give me a moment +with my friend?" + +The ex-cowboy grinned. "Bet your life I will. I ain't lovin' that old +b'iler-buster in the private car none too hard." And he went in to get +the passes. + +"What's up?" queried Adams, forgetting his drawl for once in a way. + +"An arrest--trumped-up charge of trespass on that mining claim up +yonder. But I've got to go to Carbonate to answer the charge and give +bonds, just the same." + +"Any instructions?" + +"Yes. When the train is out of sight and hearing, you get back over +there and drive that track-laying for every foot there is in it." + +Adams nodded. "I'll do it, and get myself locked up, I suppose." + +"No, you won't; that's the beauty of it. The majesty of the law--all +there is of it in Argentine--goes with me to Carbonate in the person +of the town-marshal." + +"Oh, good--succulently good! Well, so long. I'll look for you back on +the evening train?" + +"Sure," was the confident reply, "if the Rajah doesn't order it to be +abandoned on my poor account." + +Ten minutes later, when the train had gone storming on its way to +Carbonate and the Rosemary party was at breakfast, the clank of steel +and the chanteys of the hammermen on the other side of the canyon +began again with renewed vigor. The Rajah threw up his head like a +war-horse scenting the battle from afar and laid his commands upon the +long-suffering secretary. + +"Faveh me, Jastrow. Get out there and see what they are doing, seh." + +The secretary was back in the shortest possible interval, and his +report was concise and business-like. + +"Work under full headway again, in charge of a fellow who wears a +billy-cock hat and smokes cigarettes." + +"Mr. Morton P. Adams," said Virginia, recognizing the description. +"Will you have him arrested too, Uncle Somerville?" + +But the Rajah rose hastily without replying and went to his office +state-room, followed, shadow-like, by the obsequious Jastrow. + +It was some little time after breakfast, and Virginia and the Reverend +Billy were doing a constitutional on the plank platform at the +station, when the secretary came down from the car on his way to the +telegraph office. + +It was Virginia who stopped him. "What do we do next, Mr. Jastrow?" +she said; "call in the United States Army?" + +For reply he handed her a telegram, damp from the copying press. It +was addressed to the superintendent of the C. G. R. at Carbonate, and +she read it without scruple. + + "Have the Sheriff of Ute County swear in a dozen deputies and come + with them by special train to Argentine. Revive all possible titles + to abandoned mining claims on line of the Utah Extension, and have + Sheriff Deckert bring blank warrants to cover any emergency. + "DARRAH V.-P." + +"That's one of them," said the secretary. "I daren't show you the +other." + +"Oh, please!" she said, holding out her hand, while the Reverend Billy +considerately turned his back. + +Jastrow weighed the chances of detection. It was little enough he +could do to lay her under obligations to him, and he was willing to do +that little as he could. "I guess I can trust you," he said, and gave +her the second square of press-damp paper. + +Like the first, it was addressed to the superintendent at Carbonate. +But this time the brown eyes flashed and her breath came quickly as +she read the vice-president's cold-blooded after-thought: + + "Town-Marshal Biggin will arrive in Carbonate on Number 201 this + A.M. with a prisoner. Have our attorneys see to it that the man is + promptly jailed in default of bond. If he is set at liberty, as he + is likely to be, I shall trust you to arrange for his rearrest and + detention at all hazards. + "D." + + + + +V + +THE LANDSLIDE + + +Virginia took the first step in the perilous path of the strategist +when she handed the incendiary telegram back to Jastrow. + +"Poor Mr. Winton!" she said, with the real sympathy in the words made +most obviously perfunctory by the tone. "What a world of possibilities +there is masquerading behind that little word 'arrange.' Tell me more +about it, Mr. Jastrow. How will they 'arrange' it?" + +"Winton's rearrest? Nothing easier in a tough mining-camp like +Carbonate, I should say." + +"Yes, but how?" + +"I can't prophesy how Grafton will go about it, but I know what I +should do." + +Virginia's smile was irresistible, but there was a look in the deepest +depth of the brown eyes that was sifting Mr. Arthur Jastrow to the +innermost sand-heap of his desert nature. + +"How would you do it, Mr. Napoleon Jastrow?" she asked, giving him the +exact fillip on the side of gratified vanity. + +"Oh, I'd fix him. He is in a frame of mind right now; and by the time +the lawyers are through drilling him in the trespass affair, he'll be +just spoiling for a row with somebody." + +"Do you think so? Oh, how delicious! And then what?" + +"Then I'd hire some plug-ugly to stumble up against him and pick a +quarrel with him. He'd do the rest--and land in the lock-up." + +Those who knew her best said it was a warning to be heeded in Miss +Virginia Carteret when her eyes were downcast and her voice sank to +its softest cadence. + +"Why, certainly; how simple!" she said, taking her cousin's arm again; +and the secretary went in to set the wires at work in Winton's affair. + +Now Miss Carteret was a woman in every fiber of her, but among her +gifts she might have counted some that were, to say the least, +super-feminine. One of these was a measure of discretion which would +have been fairly creditable in a past master of diplomacy. So, while +the sympathetic part of her was crying out for a chance to talk +Winton's threatened danger over with some one, she lent herself +outwardly to the Reverend Billy's mood--which was one of scenic +enthusiasm; this without prejudice to a growing determination to +intervene in behalf of fair play for Winton if she could find a way. + +But the way obstinately refused to discover itself. The simple thing +to do would be to appeal to her uncle's sense of justice. It was not +like him to fight with ignoble weapons, she thought, and a tactful +word in season might make him recall the order to the superintendent. +But she could not make the appeal without betraying Jastrow. She knew +well enough that the secretary had no right to show her the telegrams; +knew also that Mr. Somerville Darrah's first word would be a demand to +know how she had learned the company's business secrets. Regarding +Jastrow as little as a high-bred young woman to whom sentiment is as +the breath of life can regard a man who is quite devoid of it, she was +still far enough from the thought of effacing him. + +To this expedient there was an unhopeful alternative: namely, the +sending, by the Reverend Billy, or, in the last resort, by herself, of +a warning message to Winton. But there were obstacles seemingly +insuperable. She had not the faintest notion of how such a warning +should be addressed; and again, the operator at Argentine was a +Colorado and Grand River employee, doubtless loyal to his salt, in +which case the warning message would never get beyond his +waste-basket. + +"Getting too chilly for you out here? Want to go in?" asked the +Reverend Billy, when the scenic enthusiasm began to outwear itself. + +"No; but I am tired of the sentry-go part of it--ten steps and a +turn," she confessed. "Can't we walk on the track a little way?" + +Calvert saw no reason why they might not, and accordingly helped her +over to the snow-encrusted path between the rails. + +"We can trot down and have a look at their construction camp, if you +like," he suggested, and thitherward they went. + +There was not much to see, after all, as the Reverend Billy remarked +when they had reached a coign of vantage below the curve. A string of +use-worn bunk cars; a "dinkey" caboose serving as the home on wheels +of the chief of construction and his assistant; a crooked siding with +a gang of dark-skinned laborers at work unloading a car of steel. +These in the immediate foreground; and a little way apart, perched +high enough on the steep slope of the mountain side to be out of the +camp turmoil, a small structure, half plank and half canvas--to wit, +the end-of-track telegraph office. + +It was Virginia who first marked the boxed-up tent standing on the +slope. + +"What do you suppose that little house-tent is for?" she asked. + +"I don't know," said Calvert. Then he saw the wires and ventured a +guess which hit the mark. + +"I didn't suppose they would have a telegraph office," she commented, +with hope rising again. + +"Oh, yes; they'd have to have a wire--one of their own. Under the +circumstances they could hardly use ours." + +"No," she rejoined absently. She was scanning the group of +steel-handlers in the hope that a young man in a billy-cock hat and +with a cigarette between his lips would shortly reveal himself. She +found him after a time and turned quickly to her cousin. + +"There is Mr. Adams down by the engine. Do you think he would come +over and speak to us if he knew we were here?" + +The Reverend Billy's smile was of honest admiration. + +"How could you doubt it? Wait here a minute and I'll call him for +you." + +He was gone before she could reply--across the ice-bridge spanning one +of the pools, and up the rough, frozen embankment of the new line. +There were armed guards here, too, as well as at the front, and one of +them halted him at the picket line. But Adams saw and recognized him, +and presently the two were crossing to where Virginia stood waiting +for them. + +"Eheu! what a little world we live in, Miss Virginia! Who would have +thought of meeting you here?" said Adams, taking her hand at the +precise elevation prescribed by good form--Boston good form. + +"The shock is mutual," she laughed. "I must say that you and Mr. +Winton have chosen a highly unconventional environment for your +sketching-field." + +"I'm down," he admitted cheerfully; "please don't trample on me. But +really, it wasn't all fib. Jack does do things with a pencil--other +things besides maps and working profiles, I mean. Won't you come over +and let me do the honors of the studio?"--with a grandiloquent +arm-sweep meant to include the construction camp in general and the +"dinkey" caboose-car in particular. + +It was the invitation she would have angled for, but she was too wise +to assent too readily. + +"Oh, no; I think we mustn't. I'm afraid Mr. Winton might not like it." + +"Not like it? If you'll come he'll never forgive himself for not being +here to 'shoot up' the camp for you in person. He is away, you know; +gone to Carbonate for the day." + +"Ought we to go, Cousin Billy?" she asked, shifting, not the decision, +but the responsibility for it, to broader shoulders. + +"Why not, if you care to?" said the athlete, to whom right-of-way +fights were mere matters of business in no wise conflicting with the +social ameliorations. + +Virginia hesitated. There was a thing to be said to Mr. Adams, and +that without delay; but how could she say it with her cousin standing +by to make an impossible trio out of any attempted duet confidential? +A willingness to see that Winton had fair play need not carry with it +an open desertion to the enemy. She must not forget to be loyal to her +salt; and, besides, Mr. Somerville Darrah's righteous indignation was +a possibility not lightly to be ignored. + +But, the upshot of the hesitant pause was a decision to brave the +consequences--all of them; so she took Calvert's arm for the slippery +crossing of the ice-bridge. + +Once on his own domain, Adams did the honors of the camp as thoroughly +and conscientiously as if the hour held no care heavier than the +entertainment of Miss Virginia Carteret. He explained the system under +which the material was kept moving forward to the ever-advancing +front; let her watch the rhythmic swing and slide of the rails from +the car to the benches; took her up into the cab of the big "octopod" +locomotive; gave her a chance to peep into the camp kitchen car; and +concluded by handing her up the steps of the "dinkey." + +"Oh, how comfortable!" she exclaimed, when he had shown her all the +space-saving contrivances of the field office. "And this is where you +and Mr. Winton work?" + +"It is where we eat and sleep," corrected Adams. "And speaking of +eating: it is hopelessly the wrong end of the day,--or it would be in +Boston,--but our Chinaman won't know the difference. Let me have him +make you a dish of tea,"--and the order was given before she could +protest. + +"While we are waiting for Ah Foo I'll show you some of Jack's +sketches," he went on, finding a portfolio and opening it upon the +drawing-board. + +"Are you quite sure Mr. Winton won't mind?" she asked. + +"Mind? He'd give a month's pay to be here to show them himself. He is +peacock vain of his one small accomplishment, Winton is--bores me to +death with it sometimes." + +"Really?" was the mocking rejoinder, and they began to look at the +sketches. + +They were heads, most of them, impressionistic studies in pencil or +pastel, with now and then a pen-and-ink bearing evidence of more +painstaking after-work. They were made on bits of map paper, the backs +of old letters, and not a few on leaves torn from an engineer's +note-book. + +"They don't count for much in an artistic way," said Adams, with the +brutal frankness of a friendly critic, "but they will serve to show +you that I wasn't all kinds of an embroiderer when I was telling you +about Winton's proclivities the other day." + +"I shouldn't apologize for that, if I were you," she retorted. "It is +well past apology, don't you think?" And then: "What is this one?" + +They had come to the last of the sketches, which was a rude map. It +was penciled on the leaf of a memorandum, and Adams recognized it as +the outline Winton had made and used in explaining the right-of-way +entanglement. + +"It is a map," he said; "one that Jack drew day before yesterday when +he was trying to make me understand the situation up here. I wonder +why he kept it? Is there anything on the other side?" + +She turned the leaf, and they both went speechless for the moment. The +reverse of the scrap of cross-ruled paper held a very fair likeness of +a face which Virginia's mirror had oftenest portrayed: a sketch +setting forth in a few vigorous strokes of the pencil the +impressionist's ideal of the "goddess fresh from the bath." + +"By Jove!" exclaimed Adams, when he could find the word for his +surprise. Then he tried to turn it off lightly. "There is a good bit +more of the artist in Jack than I have been giving him credit for. +Don't you know, he must have got the notion for that between two +half-seconds--when you recognized me on the platform at Kansas City. +It's wonderful!" + +"So very wonderful that I think I shall keep it," she rejoined, not +without a touch of austerity. Then she added: "Mr. Winton will +probably never miss it. If he does, you will have to explain the best +way you can." And Adams could only say "By Jove!" again, and busy +himself with pouring the tea which Ah Foo had brought in. + +In the nature of things the tea-drinking in the stuffy "dinkey" +drawing-room was not prolonged. Time was flying. Virginia's errand of +mercy was not yet accomplished, and Aunt Martha in her character of +anxious chaperon was not to be forgotten. Also, Miss Carteret had a +feeling that under his well-bred exterior Mr. Morton P. Adams was +chafing like any barbarian industry captain at this unwarrantable +intrusion and interruption. + +So presently they all forthfared into the sun-bright, snow-blinding, +out-of-door world, and Virginia gathered up her courage and took her +dilemma by the horns. + +"I believe I have seen everything now except that tent-place up +there," she asserted, groping purposefully for her opening. + +Adams called up another smile of acquiescence. "That is our telegraph +office. Would you care to see it?" He was of those who shirk all or +shirk nothing. + +"I don't know why I should care to, but I do," she replied, with +charming and childlike wilfulness; so the three of them trudged up the +slippery path to the operator's den on the slope. + +Not to evade his hospitable duty in any part, Adams explained the use +and need of a "front" wire, and Miss Carteret was properly interested. + +"How convenient!" she commented. "And you can come up here and talk to +anybody you like--just as if it were a telephone?" + +"To anyone in the company's service," amended Adams. "It is not a +commercial wire." + +"Then let us send a message to Mr. Winton," she suggested, playing the +part of the capricious _ingenue_ to the very upcast of a pair of +mischievous eyes. "I'll write it and you may sign it." + +Adams stretched his complaisance the necessary additional inch and +gave her a pencil and a pad of blanks. She wrote rapidly: + + "Miss Carteret has been here admiring your drawings. She took one of + them away with her, and I couldn't stop her without being rude. You + shouldn't have done it without asking her permission. She says--" + +"Oh, dear! I am making it awfully long. Does it cost so much a word?" + +"No," said Adams, not without an effort. He was beginning to be +distinctly disappointed in Miss Virginia, and was inwardly wondering +what piece of girlish frivolity he was expected to sign and send to +his chief. Meanwhile she went on writing: + + "--I am to tell you not to get into any fresh trouble--not to let + anyone else get you into trouble; by which I infer she means that + some attempt will be made to keep you from returning on the evening + train." + +"There, can you send all that?" she asked sweetly, giving the pad to +her host. + +Adams read the first part of the letter length telegram with inward +groanings, but the generous purpose of it struck him like a whip-blow +when he came to the thinly-veiled warning. Also it shamed him for his +unworthy judgment of Virginia. + +"I thank you very heartily, Miss Carteret," he said humbly. "It shall +be sent word for word." Then, for the Reverend William's benefit: +"Winton deserves all sorts of a snubbing for taking liberties with +your portrait. I'll see he gets more when he comes back." + +Here the matter rested; and, having done what she conceived to be her +charitable duty, Virginia was as anxious to get away as heart--the +heart of a slightly bored Reverend Billy, for instance--could wish. + +So they bade Adams good-by and picked their way down the frozen +embankment and across the ice-bridge; down and across and back to the +Rosemary, where they found a perturbed chaperon in a flutter of +solicitude arising upon their mysterious disappearance and long +absence. + +"It may be just as well not to tell any of them where we have been," +said Virginia in an aside to her cousin. And so the incident of +tea-drinking in the enemy's camp was safely put away like a little +personal note in its envelop with the flap gummed down. + + + + +VI + +THE RAJAH GIVES AN ORDER + + +While Adams was dispensing commissary tea in iron-stone china cups to +his two guests in the "dinkey" field office, his chief, taking the +Rosemary's night run in reverse in the company of Town-Marshal Biggin, +was turning the Rajah's coup into a small Utah profit. + +Having come upon the ground late the night before, and from the +opposite direction, he had seen nothing of the extension grade west of +Argentine. Hence the enforced journey to Carbonate only anticipated an +inspection trip which he had intended to make as soon as he had seated +Adams firmly in the track-laying saddle. + +Not to miss his opportunity, at the first curve beyond Argentine he +passed his cigar-case to Biggin and asked permission to ride on the +rear platform of the day-coach for inspection purposes. + +"Say, pardner, what do you take me fer, anyhow?" was the reproachful +rejoinder. + +"For a gentleman in disguise," said Winton promptly. + +"Sim'larly, I do you; savvy? You tell me you ain't goin' to stampede, +and you ride anywhere you blame please. See? This here C. G. R. outfit +ain't got no surcingle on me." + +Winton smiled. + +"I haven't any notion of stampeding. As it happens, I'm only a day +ahead of time. I should have made this run to-morrow of my own accord +to have a look at the extension grade. You will find me on the rear +platform when you want me." + +"Good enough," was the reply; and Winton went to his post of +observation. + +Greatly to his satisfaction, he found that the trip over the C. G. R. +answered every purpose of a preliminary inspection of the Utah grade +beyond Argentine. For seventeen of the twenty miles the two lines were +scarcely more than a stone's throw apart, and when Biggin joined him +at the junction above Carbonate he had his note-book well filled with +the necessary data. + +"Make it, all right?" inquired the friendly bailiff. + +"Yes, thanks. Have another cigar?" + +"Don't care if I do. Say, that old fire-eater back yonder in the +private car has got a mighty pretty gal, ain't he?" + +"The young lady is his niece," said Winton, wishing that Mr. Biggin +would find other food for comment. + +"I don't care; she's pretty as a Jersey two-year-old." + +"It's a fine day," observed Winton; and then, to background Miss +Carteret effectually as a topic: "How do the people of Argentine feel +about the opposition to our line?" + +"They're red-hot; you can put your money on that. The C. G. R.'s a +sure-enough tail-twister where there ain't no competition. Your +road'll get every pound of ore in the camp if it ever gets through." + +Winton made a mental note of this up-cast of public opinion, and set +it over against the friendly attitude of the official Mr. Biggin. It +was very evident that the town-marshal was serving the Rajah's purpose +only because he had to. + +"I suppose you stand with your townsmen on that, don't you?" he +ventured. + +"Now you're shouting: that's me." + +"Then if that is the case, we won't take this little holiday of ours +any harder than we can help. When the court business is settled--it +won't take very long--you are to consider yourself my guest. We stop +at the Buckingham." + +"Oh, we do, do we? Say, pardner, that's white--mighty white. If I'd +'a' been an inch or so more'n half awake this morning when that old +b'iler-buster's hired man routed me out, I'd 'a' told him to go to +blazes with his warrant. Nex' time I will." + +Winton shook his head. "There isn't going to be any 'next time,' +Peter, my son," he prophesied. "When Mr. Darrah gets fairly down to +business he'll throw bigger chunks than the Argentine town-marshal at +us." + +By this time the train was slowing into Carbonate, and a few minutes +after the stop at the crowded platform they were making their way up +the single bustling street of the town to the court-house. + +"Ever see so many tin-horns and bunco people bunched in all your +round-ups?" said Biggin, as they elbowed through the uneasy shifting +groups in front of the hotel. + +"Not often," Winton admitted. "But it's the luck of the big camps: +they are the dumping-grounds of the world while the high pressure is +on." + +The ex-range-rider turned on the courthouse steps to look the sidewalk +loungers over with narrowing eyes. + +"There's Sheeny Mike and Big Otto and half a dozen others right there +in front o' the Buckingham that couldn't stay to breathe twice in +Argentine. And this town's got a po-lice!"--the comment with +lip-curling scorn. + +"It also has a county court which is probably waiting for us," said +Winton; whereupon they went in to appease the offended majesty of the +law. + +As Winton had predicted, his answer to the court summons was a mere +formality. On parting with his chief at the Argentine station +platform, Adams' first care had been to wire news of the arrest to the +Utah headquarters. Hence Winton found the company's attorney waiting +for him in Judge Whitcomb's courtroom, and his release on an +appearance bond was only a matter of moments. + +The legal affair dismissed, there ensued a weary interval of +time-killing. There was no train back to Argentine until nearly five +o'clock in the afternoon, and the hours dragged heavily for the two, +who had nothing to do but wait. Biggin endured his part of it manfully +till the midday dinner had been discussed; then he drifted off with +one of Winton's cigars between his teeth, saying that he should "take +poison" and shoot up the town if he could not find some more peaceful +means of keeping his blood in circulation. + +It was a little after three o'clock, and Winton was sitting at the +writing-table in the lobby of the hotel elaborating his hasty notebook +data of the morning's inspection, when a boy came in with a telegram. +The young engineer was not so deeply engrossed in his work as to be +deaf to the colloquy. + +"Mr. John Winton? Yes, he is here somewhere," said the clerk in answer +to the boy's question; and after an identifying glance: "There he +is--over at the writing-table." + +Winton turned in his chair and saw the boy coming toward him; also he +saw the ruffian pointed out by Biggin from the court-house steps and +labeled "Sheeny Mike" lounging up to the clerk's desk for a whispered +exchange of words with the bediamonded gentleman behind it. + +What followed was cataclysmic in its way. The lounger took three +staggering lurches toward Winton, brushed the messenger boy aside, and +burst out in a storm of maudlin invective. + +"Sign yerself 'Winton' now, do yet ye lowdown, turkey-trodden--" + +"One minute," said Winton curtly, taking the telegram from the boy and +signing for it. + +"I'll give ye more'n ye can carry away in less'n half that time--see?" +was the minatory retort; and the threat was made good by an awkward +buffet which would have knocked the engineer out of his chair if he +had remained in it. + +Now Winton's eyes were gray and steadfast, but his hair was of that +shade of brown which takes the tint of dull copper in certain lights, +and he had a temper which went with the red in his hair rather than +with the gray in his eyes. Wherefore his attempt to placate his +assailant was something less than diplomatic. + +"You drunken scoundrel!" he snapped. "If you don't go about your +business and let me alone, I'll turn you over to the police with a +broken bone or two!" + +The bully's answer was a blow delivered straight from the shoulder--too +straight to harmonize with the fiction of drunkenness. Winton saw the +sober purpose in it and went battle-mad, as a hasty man will. Being a +skilful boxer,--which his antagonist was not,--he did what he had to +do neatly and with commendable despatch. Down, up; down, up; down a +third time, and then the bystanders interfered. + +"Hold on!" + +"That'll do!" + +"Don't you see he's drunk?" + +"Enough's as good as a feast--let him go." + +Winton's blood was up, but he desisted, breathing threatenings. +Whereat Biggin shouldered his way into the circle. + +"Pay your bill and let's hike out o' this, _pronto_!" he said in a low +tone. "You ain't got no time to fool with a Carbonate justice shop." + +But Winton was not to be brought to his senses so easily. + +"Run away from that swine? Not if I know it. Let him take it into +court if he wants to. I'll be there, too." + +The beaten one was up now and apparently looking for an officer. + +"I'm takin' ye all to witness," he rasped. "I was on'y askin' him to +cash up what he lost to me las' night, and he jumps me. But I'll stick +him if there's any law in this camp." + +Now all this time Winton had been holding the unopened telegram +crumpled in his fist, but when Biggin pushed him out of the circle and +thrust him up to the clerk's desk, he bethought him to read the +message. It was Virginia's warning, signed by Adams, and a single +glance at the closing sentence was enough to cool him suddenly. + +"Pay the bill, Biggin, and join me in the billiard-room, quick!" he +whispered, pressing money into the town-marshal's hand and losing +himself in the crowd. And when Biggin had obeyed his instructions: +"Now for a back way out of this, if there is one. We'll have to take +to the hills till train time." + +They found a way through the bar and out into a side street leading +abruptly up to the spruce-clad hills behind the town. Biggin held his +peace until they were safe from immediate danger of pursuit. Then his +curiosity got the better of him. + +"Didn't take you more'n a week to change your mind about pullin' it +off with that tinhorn scrapper in the courts, did it?" + +"No," said Winton. + +"'Tain't none o' my business, but I'd like to know what stampeded +you." + +"A telegram,"--shortly. "It was a put-up job to have me locked up on a +criminal charge, and so hold me out another day." + +Biggin grinned. "The old b'iler-buster again. Say, he's a holy terror, +ain't he?" + +"He doesn't mean to let me build my railroad if he can help it." + +The ex-cowboy found his sack of chip tobacco and dexterously rolled a +cigarette in a bit of brown wrapping-paper. + +"If that's the game, Mr. Sheeny Mike, or his backers, will be most +likely to play it to a finish, don't you guess?" + +"How?" + +"By havin' a po-liceman layin' for you at the train." + +"I hadn't thought of that." + +"Well, I can think you out of it, I reckon. The branch train is a +'commodation, and it'll stop most anywhere if you throw up your hand +at it. We can take out through the woods and across the hills, and mog +up the track a piece. How'll that do?" + +"It will do for me, but there is no need of your tramping when you can +just as well ride." + +But now that side of Mr. Peter Biggin which endears him and his kind +to every man who has ever shared his lonely round-ups, or broken bread +with him in his comfortless shack, came uppermost. + +"What do you take me fer?" was the way it vocalized itself; but there +was more than a formal oath of loyal allegiance in the curt question. + +"For a man and a brother," said Winton heartily; and they set out +together to waylay the outgoing train at some point beyond the danger +limit. + +It was accomplished without further mishap, and the short winter day +was darkening to twilight when the train came in sight and the +engineer slowed to their signal. They climbed aboard, and when they +had found a seat in the smoker the chief of construction spoke to the +ex-cowboy as to a friend. + +"I hope Adams has knocked out a good day's work for us," he said. + +"Your pardner with the store hat and the stinkin' cigaroots?--he's all +right," said Biggin; and it so chanced that at the precise moment of +the saying the subject of it was standing with the foreman of +track-layers at a gap in the new line just beyond and above the +Rosemary's siding at Argentine, his day's work ended, and his men +loaded on the flats for the run down to camp over the lately-laid +rails of the lateral loop. + +"Not such a bad day, considering the newness of us and the bridge at +the head of the gulch," he said, half to himself. And then more +pointedly to the foreman: "Bridge-builders to the front at the first +crack of dawn, Mike. Why wasn't this break filled in the grading?" + +"Sure, sorr, 'tis a dhrain it is," said the Irishman; "from the placer +up beyant," he added, pointing to a washed-out excoriation on the +steep upper slope of the mountain. "Major Evarts did be tellin' us +we'd have the lawyers afther us hot-fut again if we didn't be lavin' +ut open the full width." + +"Mmph!" said Adams, looking the ground over with a critical eye. "It's +a bad bit. It wouldn't take much to bring that whole slide down on us +if it wasn't frozen solid. Who owns the placer?" + +"Two fellies over in Carbonate. The company did be thryin' to buy the +claim, but the sharps wouldn't sell--bein' put up to hold ut by thim +C. G. R. divils. It's more throuble we'll be havin' here, I'm +thinking." + +While they lingered a shrill whistle, echoing like an eldrich laugh +among the cliffs of the upper gorge, announced the coming of a train +from the direction of Carbonate. Adams looked at his watch. + +"I'd like to know what that is," he mused. "It's an hour too soon for +the accommodation. By Jove!" + +The exclamation directed itself at a one-car train which came +thundering down the canyon to pull in on the siding beyond the +Rosemary. The car was a passenger coach, well-lighted, and from his +post on the embankment Adams could see armed men filling the windows. +Michael Branagan saw them, too, and the fighting Celt in him rose to +the occasion. + +"'Tis Donnybrook Fair we've come to this time, Misther Adams. Shall I +call up the b'ys wid their guns?" + +"Not yet. Let's wait and see what happens." + +What happened was a peaceful sortie. Two men, each with a kit of some +kind borne in a sack, dropped from the car, crossed the creek, and +struggled up the hill through the unbridged gap. Adams waited until +they were fairly on the right of way, then he called down to them. + +"Halt, there! you two. This is corporation property." + +"Not much it ain't!" retorted one of the trespassers gruffly. "It's +the drain-way from our placer up yonder." + +"What are you going to do up there at this time of night?" + +"None o' your blame business!" was the explosive counter-shot. + +"Perhaps it isn't," said Adams mildly. "Just the same, I'm thirsting +to know. Call it vulgar curiosity if you like." + +"All right, you can know, and be cussed to you. We're goin' to work +our claim. Got anything to say against it?" + +"Oh! no," rejoined Adams; and when the twain had disappeared in the +upper darkness he went down the grade with Branagan and took his place +on the man-loaded flats for the run to the construction camp, thinking +more of the lately-arrived car with its complement of armed men than +of the two miners who had calmly announced their intention of working +a placer claim on a high mountain, without water, and in the dead of +winter! By which it will be seen that Mr. Morton P. Adams, +C. E. M. I. T. Boston, had something yet to learn in the matter of +practical field work. + +By the time Ah Foo had served him his solitary supper in the dinkey he +had quite forgotten the incident of the mysterious placer miners. +Worse than this, it had never occurred to him to connect their +movements with the Rajah's plan of campaign. On the other hand, he was +thinking altogether of the carload of armed men, and trying to devise +some means of finding out how they were to be employed in furthering +the Rajah's designs. + +The means suggested themselves after supper, and he went alone over to +Argentine to spend a half-hour in the bar of the dance-hall listening +to the gossip of the place. When he had learned what he wanted to +know, he forthfared to meet Winton at the incoming train. + +"We are in for it now," he said, when they had crossed the creek to +the dinkey and the Chinaman was bringing Winton's belated supper. "The +Rajah has imported a carload of armed mercenaries, and he is going to +clean us all out to-morrow: arrest everybody from the gang foremen +up." + +Winton's eyebrows lifted. "So? that is a pretty large contract. Has he +men enough to do it?" + +"Not so many men. But they are sworn-in deputies, with the sheriff of +Ute County in command--a posse, in fact. So he has the law on his +side." + +"Which is more than he had when he set a thug on me this afternoon at +Carbonate," said Winton sourly; and he told Adams about the +misunderstanding in the lobby of the Buckingham. His friend whistled +under his breath. "By Jove! that's pretty rough. Do you suppose the +Rajah dictated any such Lucretia Borgia thing as that?" + +Winton took time to think about it and admitted a doubt, as he had not +before. Believing Mr. Somerville Darrah fit for treasons, stratagems, +and spoils in his official capacity of vice-president of a fighting +corporation, he was none the less disposed to find excuses for Miss +Virginia Carteret's uncle. + +"I did think so at first, but I guess it was only the misguided zeal +of some understrapper. Of course, word has gone out all along the +C. G. R. line that we are to be delayed by every possible expedient." + +But Adams shook his head. + +"Mr. Darrah dictated that move in his own proper person." + +"How do you know that?" + +"You had a message from me this afternoon?" + +"I did." + +"What did you think of it?" + +"I thought you might have left out the first part of it; also that you +might have made the latter half a good bit more explicit." + +A slow smile spread itself over Adams' impassive face. + +"Every man has his limitations," he said. "I did the best I could. But +the Rajah knew very well what he was about--otherwise there would have +been no telegram." + +Winton sent the Chinaman out for another cup of tea before he said, +"Did Miss Carteret come here alone?" + +"Oh, no; Calvert came with her." + +"What brought them here?" + +Adams spread his hands. + +"What makes any woman do precisely the most unexpected thing?" + +Winton was silent for a moment. Finally he said: "I hope you did what +you could to make it pleasant for her." + +"I did. And I didn't hear her complain." + +"That was low-down in you, Morty." + +Adams chuckled reminiscently. "Had to do it to make my day-before-yesterday +lie hold water. And she was immensely taken with the scrawls, especially +with one of them." + +Winton flushed under the bronze. + +"I suppose I don't need to ask which one." + +Adams' grin was a measure of his complacence. + +"Well, hardly." + +"She took it away with her?" + +"Took it, or tore it up, I forget which." + +"Tell me, Morty, was she very angry?" + +The other took the last hint of laughter out of his eyes before he +said solemnly: "You'll never know how thankful I was that you were +twenty miles away." + +Winton's cup was full, and he turned the talk abruptly to the +industrial doings and accomplishments of the day. Adams made a verbal +report which led him by successive steps up to the twilight hour when +he had stood with Branagan on the brink of the placer drain, but, +strangely enough, there was no stirring of memory to recall the +incident of the upward-climbing miners. + +When Winton rose he said something about mounting a night guard on the +engine, which was kept under steam at all hours; and shortly afterward +he left the dinkey ostensibly to do it, declining Adams' offer of +company. But once out-of-doors he climbed straight to the operator's +tent on the snow-covered slope. Carter had turned in, but he sat up in +his bunk at the noise of the intrusion. + +"That you, Mr. Winton? Want to send something?" he asked. + +"No, go to sleep. I'll write a wire and leave it for you to send in +the morning." + +He sat down at the packing-case instrument table and wrote out a brief +report of the day's progress in track-laying for the general manager's +record. But when Carter's regular breathing told him he was alone he +pushed the pad aside, took down the sending-hook, and searched until +he had found the original copy of the message which had reached him at +the moment of cataclysms in the lobby of the Buckingham. + +"Um," he said, and his heart grew warm within him. "It's just about as +I expected: Morty didn't have anything whatever to do with it--except +to sign and send it as she commanded him to." And the penciled sheet +was folded carefully and filed in permanence in the inner breast +pocket of his brown duck shooting-coat. + +The moon was rising behind the eastern mountain when he extinguished +the candle and went out. Below lay the chaotic construction camp +buried in silence and in darkness save for the lighted windows of the +dinkey. He was not quite ready to go back to Adams, and after making a +round of the camp and bidding the engine watchman keep a sharp lookout +against a possible night surprise, he set out to walk over the +newly-laid track of the day. + +Another half-hour had elapsed, and a waning moon was clearing the +topmost crags of Pacific Peak when he came out on the high embankment +opposite the Rosemary, having traversed the entire length of the +lateral loop and inspected the trestle at the gulch head by the light +of a blazing spruce-branch. + +The station with its two one-car trains, and the shacks of the little +mining-camp beyond, lay shimmering ghost-like in the new-born light of +the moon. The engine of the sheriff's car was humming softly with a +note like the distant swarming of bees, and from the dancehall in +Argentine the snort of a trombone and the tinkling clang of a cracked +piano floated out upon the frosty night air. + +Winton turned to go back. The windows of the Rosemary were all dark, +and there was nothing to stay for. So he thought, at all events; but +if he had not been musing abstractedly upon things widely separated +from his present surroundings, he might have remarked two tiny stars +of lantern-light high on the placer ground above the embankment; or, +failing the sight, he might have heard the dull, measured _slumph_ +of a churn-drill burrowing deep in the frozen earth of the slope. + +As it was, a pair of brown eyes blinded him, and the tones of a voice +sweeter than the songs of Oberon's sea-maid filled his ears. Wherefore +he neither saw nor heard; and taking the short cut across the mouth of +the lateral gulch back to camp, he boarded the dinkey and went to bed +without disturbing Adams. + +The morning of the day to come broke clear and still, with the stars +paling one by one at the pointing finger of the dawn, and the +frost-rime lying thick and white like a snowfall of erect and +glittering needles on iron and steel and wood. + +Obedient to orders, the bridge-builders were getting out their +hand-car at the construction camp, the wheels shrilling merrily on the +frosted rails, and the men stamping and swinging their arms to start +the sluggish night-blood. Suddenly, like the opening gun of a battle, +the dull rumble of a mighty explosion trembled upon the still air, +followed instantly by a sound as of a passing avalanche. + +Winton was out and running up the track before the camp was fairly +aroused. What he saw when he gained the hither side of the lateral +gulch was a sight to make a strong man weep. A huge landslide, +starting from the frozen placer ground high up on the western +promontory, had swept every vestige of track and embankment into the +deep bed of the creek at a point precisely opposite Mr. Somerville +Darrah's private car. + + + + +VII + +THE MAJESTY OF THE LAW + + +Virginia was up and dressed when the sullen shock of the explosion +set the windows jarring in the Rosemary. + +She hurried out upon the observation platform and so came to look +upon the ruin wrought by the landslide while the dust-like smoke of +the dynamite still hung in the air. + +"Rather unlucky for our friends the enemy," said a colorless voice +behind her; and she had an uncomfortable feeling that Jastrow had +been lying in wait for her. + +She turned upon him quickly. + +"Was it an accident, Mr. Jastrow?" + +"How could it be anything else?" he inquired mildly. + +"I don't know. But there was an explosion: I heard it." + +"It is horribly unfair," she went on. "I understand the sheriff is +here. Couldn't he have prevented this?" + +The secretary's rejoinder was a platitude: "Everything is fair in +love or war." + +"But this is neither," she retorted. + +"Think not?" he said coolly. "Wait, and you'll see. And a word in +your ear, Miss Carteret: you are one of us, you know, and you mustn't +be disloyal. I know what you did yesterday after you read those +telegrams." + +Virginia's face became suddenly wooden. Until that moment it had not +occurred to her that Jastrow's motive in showing her the two telegrams +might have been carefully calculated. + +"I have never given you the right to speak to me that way, Mr. +Jastrow," she said, with the faintest possible emphasis on the +courtesy prefix; and with that she turned from him to focus her +field-glass on the construction camp below. + +At the Utah stronghold all was activity of the fiercest. Winton had +raced back with his news of the catastrophe, and the camp was alive +with men clustering like bees and swarming upon the flat-cars of the +material-train to be taken to the front. + +While she looked, studiously ignoring the man behind her, Virginia +saw the big octopod engine clamoring up the grade. In a twinkling +the men were off and at work. + +Virginia's color rose and the brown eyes filled swiftly. One part +of her ideal was courage of the sort that rises the higher for +reverses. But at the instant she remembered the secretary, and, lest +he should spy upon her emotion, she turned and took refuge in the +car. + +In the Rosemary the waiter was laying the plates for breakfast, and +Bessie and the Reverend William were at the window, watching the +stirring industry battle now in full swing on the opposite slope. +Virginia joined them. + +"Isn't it a shame!" she said. "Of course, I want our side to win; +but it seems such a pity that we can't fight fairly." + +Calvert said, "Isn't what a shame?" thereby eliciting a crisp +explanation from Virginia in which she set well-founded suspicion +in the light of fact. + +The Reverend Billy shook his head. + +"Such things may be within the law--of business; but they will surely +breed bad blood--" + +The interruption was the Rajah in his proper person, bustling out +fiercely to a conference with his Myrmidons. By tacit consent the +three at the window fell silent. + +There was a hasty mustering of armed men under the windows of the +Rosemary, and they heard Sheriff Deckert's low-voiced instructions +to his posse. + +"Take it slow and easy, boys, and don't get rattled. Now, then; guns +to the front! Steady!" + +The Reverend Billy rose. + +"What are you going to do?" said Virginia. + +"I'm going to give Winton a tip if it's the last thing I ever do." + +She shook her head and pointed eastward to the mouth of the lateral +gulch. Under cover of a clump of evergreen-scrub a man in a +wideflapped hat and leather breeches was climbing swiftly to the level +of the new line, cautiously waving a handkerchief as a peace token. +"That is the man who arrested Mr. Winton yesterday. This time he is +going to fight on the other side. He'll carry the warning." + +"Think so?" said Calvert. + +"I am sure of it. Open the window, please. I want to see better." + +As yet there was no sign of preparation on the embankment. For the +moment the rifles of the track force were laid aside, and every man +was plying pick or shovel. + +Winton was in the thick of the pick-and-shovel melee, urging it on, +when Biggin ran up. + +"Hi!" he shouted. "Fixin' to take another play-day in Carbonate? +Lookee down yonder!" + +Winton looked and became alive to the possibilities in the turning +of a leaf. + +"Guns!" he yelled; and at the word of command the tools were flung +aside, and the track force, over two hundred strong, became an army. + +"Mulcahey, take half the men and go up the grade till you can rake +those fellows without hitting the car. Branagan, you take the other +half and go down till you can cross-fire with Mulcahey. Aim low, both +of you; and the man who fires before he gets the word from me will +break his neck at a rope's end. Fall in!" + +"By Jove!" said Adams. "Are you going to resist? That spells felony, +doesn't it?" + +Winton pointed to the waiting octopod. + +"I'm going to order the Two-fifteen down out of the way: you may go +with her if you like." + +"I guess not!" quoth the assistant, calmly lighting a fresh cigarette. +And then to the water-boy, who was acting quartermaster: "Give me +a rifle and a cartridge-belt, Chunky, and I'll stay here with the +boss." + +"And where do I come in?" said Biggin to Winton reproachfully. + +"You'll stay out, if your head's level. You've done enough already +to send you to Canyon City." + +"I ain't a-forgettin' nothing," said Peter cheerfully, casting himself +flat behind a heap of earth on the dump-edge. + +While the sheriff's posse was picking its way gingerly over the loose +rock and earth dam formed by the landslide, the window went up in +the Rosemary and Winton saw Virginia. Without meaning to, she gave +him his battle-word. + +"We are a dozen Winchesters to your one, Mr. Deckert, and we shall +resist force with force. Order your men back or there will be +trouble." + +Winton stood out on the edge of the cutting, a solitary figure where +a few minutes before the earth had been flying from a hundred shovels. + +The sheriff's reply was an order, but not for retreat. + +"He's one of the men we want; cover him!" he commanded. + +Unless the public occasion appeals strongly to the sympathies or the +passions, a picked-up sheriff's posse is not likely to have very good +metal in it. Peter Biggin laughed. + +"Don't be no ways nervous," he said in an aside to Winton. "Them +professional veniry chumps couldn't hit the side o' Pacific Peak." + +Winton held his ground, while the sheriff tried to drive his men up +a bare slope commanded by two hundred rifles to right and left. The +attempt was a humiliating failure. Being something less than soldiers +trained to do or die, the deputies hung back to a man. + +Virginia could not forbear a smile. The sheriff burst into caustic +profanity. Whereupon Mr. Peter Biggin rose up and sent a bullet to +plow a little furrow in the ice within an inch of Deckert's heels. + +"Ex-cuse _me_, Bart," he drawled, "but no cuss words don't go." + +The sheriff ignored Peter Biggin as a person who could be argued with +at leisure and turned to Winton. + +"Come down!" he bellowed. + +Winton laughed. + +"Let me return the invitation. Come up, and you may read your warrants +to us all day." + +Deckert withdrew his men, and at Winton's signal the track-layers +came in and the earth began to fly again. + +Virginia sighed her relief, and Bessie plucked up courage to go to +the window, which she had deserted in the moment of impending battle. + +"Breakfast is served," announced the waiter as calmly as if the +morning meal were the only matter of consequence in a world of +happenings. + +They gathered about the table, a silent trio made presently a quartet +by the advent of Mrs. Carteret, who had neither seen nor heard +anything of the warlike episode with which the day had begun. + +Mr. Darrah was late, so late that when he came in, Virginia was the +only one of the four who remained at table. She stayed to pour his +coffee and to bespeak peace. + +"Uncle Somerville, can't we win without calling in these horrid men +with their guns?" + +A mere shadow of a grim smile came and went in the Rajah's eyes. + +"An unprejudiced outsideh might say that the 'horrid men with their +guns' were on top of that embankment, my deah--ten to ouh one," he +remarked. + +"But I should think we might win in some other way," Virginia +persisted undauntedly. + +Mr. Darrah pushed his plate aside and cleared his throat. + +"For business reasons which you--ah--wouldn't undehstand, we can't +let the Utah finish this railroad of theirs into Carbonate this +winteh." + +"So much I have inferred. But Mr. Winton seems to be very determined." + +"Mmph! I wish Mr. Callowell had favehed us with some one else--any +one else. That young fellow is a bawn fighteh, my deah." + +Virginia had a bright idea, and she advanced it without examining +too closely into its ethical part. + +"Mr. Winton is working for wages, isn't he?" she asked. + +"Of cou'se; big money, at that. His sawt come high." + +"Well, why can't you hire him away from the other people? Mr. +Callowell might not be so fortunate next time." + +The Rajah sat back in his chair and regarded her thoughtfully. + +"What is it?" she asked. + +"Nothing my deah--nothing at all. I was just wondering how a +woman's--ah--sense of propo'tion was put togetheh. But your plan has +merit. Do I understand that you will faveh me with your help?" + +"Why, ye-es, certainly, if I can," she assented, not without dubiety. +"That is, I'll be nice to Mr. Winton." + +"That is precisely what I mean, my deah. We'll begin by having him +heah to dinneh this evening, him and the otheh young man--what's his +name?--Adams." + +And the upshot of the matter was a dainty note which found its way +by the hands of the private-car porter to Winton, laboring manfully +at his task of repairing the landslide damages. + +"Mr. Somerville Darrah's compliments to Mr. John Winton and Mr. Morton +P. Adams, and he will be pleased if they will dine with the party +in the car Rosemary at seven o'clock. + +"Informal. + +"Wednesday, December the Ninth." + + + + +VIII + +THE GREEKS BRINGING GIFTS + + +Adams said "By Jove!" in his most cynical drawl when Winton gave him +the dinner-bidding to read: then he laughed. + +Winton recovered the dainty note, folding it carefully and putting it +in his pocket. The handwriting was the same as that of the telegram +abstracted from Operator Carter's sending-book. + +"I don't see anything to laugh at," he objected. + +"No? First the Rajah sends the sheriff's posse packing without +striking a blow, and now he invites us to dinner." + +"You make me exceedingly tired at odd moments, Morty. Why can't you +give Mr. Darrah the credit of being what he really is at bottom--a +right-hearted Virginia gentleman of the old school?" + +"You don't mean that you are going to accept!" said Adams, aghast. + +"Certainly; and so are you." + +There was no more to be said, and Adams held his peace while Winton +scribbled a line of acceptance on a leaf of his note-book and sent it +across to the Rosemary by the hand of the water-boy. + +Their reception at the steps of the Rosemary was a generous proof of +the aptness of that aphorism which sums up the status _post bellum_ in +the terse phrase, "After war, peace." Mr. Darrah met them; was +evidently waiting for them. + +"Come in, gentlemen; come in and be at home,"--this with a hand for +each. "Virginia allowed you wouldn't faveh us, but I assured her she +didn't rightly know men of the world: told her that a picayune +business affair in which we are all acting as corporation proxies +needn't spell out anything like a blood feud between gentlemen." + +For another man the informal table gathering might have been easily +prohibitive of confidences _a deux_, even with a Virginia Carteret to +help, but Winton was far above the trammelings of time and place. He +had eyes and ears only for the sweet-faced, low-voiced young woman +beside him, and some of his replies to the others were irrelevant +enough to send a smile around the board. + +"How very absent-minded Mr. Winton seems to be this evening!" murmured +Bessie from her niche between Adams and the Reverend Billy at the +farther end of the table. "He isn't quite at his best, is he, Mr. +Adams?" + +"No, indeed," said Adams, matching her undertone, "very far from it. +He has been a bit off all day: touch of mountain fever, I'm afraid." + +"But he doesn't look at all ill," objected Miss Bessie. "I should say +he is a perfect picture of rude health." + +The coffee was served, and Mrs. Carteret was rising. Whereupon Miss +Virginia handed her cup to Adams, and so had him for her companion in +the tete-a-tete chair, leaving Winton to shift for himself. + +The shifting process carried him over to the Rajah and the Reverend +Billy, to a small table in a corner of the compartment, and the +enjoyment of a mild cigar. + +Later, when Calvert had been eliminated by Miss Bessie, Winton looked +to see the true inwardness of the dinner-bidding made manifest by his +host. + +But Mr. Darrah chatted on, affably noncommittal, and after a time +Winton began to upbraid himself for suspecting the ulterior motive. +And when he finally rose to excuse himself on a letter-writing plea, +his leave-taking was that of the genial host reluctant to part company +with his guest. + +"I've enjoyed your conve'sation, seh; enjoyed it right much. May I +hope you will faveh us often while we are neighbors?" + +Winton rose, made the proper acknowledgments, and would have crossed +the compartment to make his adieus to Mrs. Carteret. But at that +moment Virginia came between. + +"You are not going yet, are you, Mr. Winton? Don't hurry. If you are +dying to smoke a pipe, as Mr. Adams says you are, we can go out on the +platform. It isn't too cold, is it?" + +"It is clear and frosty, a beautiful night," he hastened to say. "May +I help you with your coat?" + +So presently Winton had his heart's desire, which was to be alone with +Virginia. + +She nerved herself for the plunge,--her uncle's plunge. + +"Your part in the building of this other railroad is purely a business +affair, is it not?" + +"My personal interest? Quite so; a mere matter of dollars and cents, +you may say." + +"If you should have another offer, from some other company--" + +"That is not your argument; it is Mr. Darrah's. You know well enough +what is involved: honor, integrity, good faith, everything a man +values, or should value. I can't believe you would ask such a +sacrifice of me--of any man. + +"Indeed, I do not ask it, Mr. Winton. But it is only fair that you +should have your warning. My uncle will leave no stone unturned to +defeat you." + +He was still looking into her eyes, and so had courage to say what +came uppermost. + +"I don't care: I shall fight him as hard as I can, but I shall always +be his debtor for this evening. Do you understand?" + +In a flash her mood changed and she laughed lightly. + +"Who would think it of you, Mr. Winton. Of all men I should have said +you were the last to care so much for the social diversions. Shall we +go in?" + + + + +IX + +THE BLOCK SIGNAL + + +If Mr. John Winton, C. E., stood in need of a moral tonic, as Adams +had so delicately intimated to Miss Bessie Carteret, it was +administered in quantity sufficient before he slept on the night of +dinner-givings. + +For a clear-eyed theorist, free from all heart-trammelings and able to +grasp the unsentimental fact, the enemy's new plan of campaign wrote +itself quite legibly. With his pick and choice among the time-killing +expedients the Rajah could scarcely have found one more to his purpose +than the private car Rosemary, including in its passenger list a Miss +Virginia Carteret. + +All of which Adams, substituting friendly frankness for the +disciplinary traditions of the service, set forth in good Bostonian +English for the benefit and behoof of his chief, and was answered +according to his deserts with scoffings and deridings. + +"I wasn't born yesterday, Morty, and I'm not so desperately asinine as +you seem to think," was the besotted one's summing-up. "I know the +Rajah doesn't split hairs in a business fight, but he is hardly +unscrupulous enough to use Miss Carteret as a cat's-paw." + +But Adams would not be scoffed aside so easily. + +"You're off in your estimate of Mr. Darrah, Jack, 'way off. I know the +tradition: that a Southern gentleman is all chivalry when it comes to +a matter touching his womankind, and I don't controvert it as a +general proposition. But the Rajah has been a fighting Western +railroad magnate so long that his accent is about the only Southern +asset he has retained. If I'm any good at guessing, he will stick at +nothing to gain his end." + +Winton admitted the impeachment without prejudice to his own point of +view. + +"Perhaps you are right. But forewarned is forearmed. And Miss Virginia +is not going to lend herself to any such nefarious scheme." + +"Not consciously, perhaps; but you don't know her yet. If she saw a +good chance to take the conceit out of you, she'd improve it--without +thinking overmuch of the possible consequences to the Utah company." + +"Pshaw!" said Winton. "That is another of your literary inferences. +I've met her only twice, yet I venture to say I know her better than +you do. If she cared anything for me--which she doesn't--" + +"Oh, go to sleep!" said Adams, who was not minded to argue further +with a man besotted; and so the matter went by default for the time. + +But in the days that followed, days in which the sun rose and set in +cloudless winter splendor and the heavy snows still held aloof, Adams' +prediction wrought itself out into sober fact. After the single appeal +to force, Mr. Darrah seemed to give up the fight. None the less, the +departure of the Rosemary was delayed, and its hospitable door was +always open to the Utah chief of construction and his assistant. + +It was very deftly done, and even Adams, the clear-eyed, could not +help admiring the Rajah's skilful finesse. Of formal dinner-givings +there might easily have been an end, since the construction camp had +nothing to offer in return. But the formalities were studiously +ignored, and the two young men were put upon a footing of intimacy and +encouraged to come and go as they pleased. + +Winton took his welcome broadly, as what lover would not? and within a +week was spending most of his evenings in the Rosemary--this at a time +when every waking moment of the day and night was deeply mortgaged to +the chance of success. For now that the Rajah had withdrawn his +opposition, Nature and the perversity of inanimate things had taken a +hand, and for a fortnight the work of track-laying paused fairly +within sight of the station at Argentine. + +First it was a carload of steel accidentally derailed and dumped into +Quartz Creek at precisely the worst possible point in the lower +canyon, a jagged, rock-ribbed, cliff-bound gorge where each separate +piece of metal had to be hoisted out singly by a derrick erected for +the purpose--a process which effectually blocked the track for three +entire days. Next it was another landslide (unhelped by dynamite, +this) just above the station, a crawling cataract of loose, sliding +shale which, painstakingly dug out and dammed with plank bulkhead +during the day, would pour down and bury bulkhead, buttresses, and the +very right of way in the night. + +In his right mind--the mind of an ambitious young captain of industry +who sees defeat with dishonor staring him in the face--Winton would +have fought all the more desperately for these hindrances. But, +unfortunately, he was no longer an industry captain with an eye single +to success. He was become that anomaly despised of the working +world--a man in love. + +"It's no use shutting our eyes to the fact, Jack," said Adams one +evening, when his chief was making ready for his regular descent upon +the Rosemary. "We shall have to put night shifts at work on that +shale-slide if we hope ever to get past it with the rails." + +"Hang the shale!" was the impatient rejoinder. "I'm no galley slave." + +Adams' slow smile came and went in cynical ripplings. + +"It is pretty difficult to say precisely what you are just now. But I +can prophesy what you are going to be if you don't wake up and come +alive." + +Having no reply to this, Adams went back to the matter of night +shifts. + +"If you will authorize it, I'll put a night gang on and boss it +myself. What do you say?" + +"I say you are no end of a good fellow, Morty. And that's the plain +fact. I'll do as much for you some time." + +"I'll be smashed if you will--you'll never get the chance. When I let +a pretty girl make a fool of me--" + +But the door of the dinkey slammed behind the outgoing one, and the +prophet of evil was left to organize his night assault on the +shale-slide, and to command it as best he could. + +So, as we say, the days, days of stubborn toil with the enthusiasm +taken out, slipped away unfruitful. Of the entire Utah force Adams +alone held himself up to the mark, and being only second in command, +he was unable to keep the bad example of the chief from working like +a leaven of inertness among the men. Branagan voiced the situation in +rich brogue one evening when Adams had exhausted his limited +vocabulary of abuse on the force for its apathy. "'Tis no use, ava, +Misther Adams. If you was the boss himself 'twould be you as would put +the comether on thim too quick. But it's 'like masther, like mon.' The +b'ys all know that Misther Winton don't care a damn; and they'll not +be hurtin' thimselves wid the wurrk." + +And the Rajah? Between his times of smoking high-priced cigars with +Winton in the lounging-room of the Rosemary, he was swearing Jubilates +in the privacy of his working-den state-room, having tri-daily weather +reports wired to him by way of Carbonate and Argentine station, and +busying himself in the intervals with sending and receiving sundry +mysterious telegrams in cipher. + +Thus Mr. Somerville Darrah, all going well for him until one fateful +morning when he made the mistake of congratulating his ally. Then--but +we picture the scene: Mr. Darrah late to his breakfast, being just in +from an early-morning reconnaissance of the enemy's advancings; +Virginia sitting opposite to pour his coffee. All the others vanished +to some limbo of their own. + +The Rajah rubbed his hands delightedly. + +"We are coming on famously, famously, my deah Virginia. Two weeks +gone, heavy snows predicted for the mountain region, and nothing, +practically nothing at all, accomplished on the otheh side of the +canyon. When you marry, my deah, you shall have a block of C. G. R. +preferred stock to keep you in pin-money." + +"I?" she queried. "But, Uncle Somerville, I don't understand--" + +The Rajah laughed. + +"That was a very pretty blush, my deah. Bless your innocent soul, if +I were young Misteh Winton, I'm not sure but I should consideh the +game well lost." + +She was gazing at him wide-eyed now, and the blush had left a pallor +behind it. + +"You mean that I--that I--" + +"I mean that you are a helpeh worth having, Miss Carteret. Anotheh +time Misteh Winton won't pay cou't to a cha'ming young girl and try to +build a railroad at one and the same moment, I fancy. Hah!" + +The startled eyes veiled themselves swiftly, and Virginia's voice sank +to its softest cadence. + +"Have I been an accomplice," she began, "in this--this despicable +thing, Uncle Somerville?" + +Mr. Darrah began a little to see his mistake. + +"Ah--an accomplice? Oh, no, my deah Virginia, not quite that. The word +smacks too much of the po-lice cou'ts. Let us say that Misteh Winton +has found your company mo' attractive than that of his laborehs, and +commend his good taste in the matteh." + +So much he said by way of damping down the fire he had so rashly +lighted. Then Jastrow came in with one of the interminable cipher +telegrams and Virginia was left alone. + +For a time she sat at the deserted breakfast-table, dry-eyed, +hot-hearted, thinking such thoughts as would come crowding thickly +upon the heels of such a revelation. Winton would fail: a man with +honor, good repute, his entire career at stake, as he himself had +admitted, would go down to miserable oblivion and defeat, lacking some +friendly hand to smite him alive to a sense of his danger. And, in her +uncle's estimation, at least, she, Virginia Carteret, would figure as +the Delilah triumphant. + +She rose, tingling to her finger-tips with the shame of it, went to +her state-room, and found her writing materials. In such a crisis her +methods could be as direct as a man's. Winton was coming again that +evening. He must be stopped and sent about his business. + +So she wrote him a note, telling him he must not come--a note man-like +in its conciseness, and yet most womanly in its failure to give even +the remotest hint of the new and binding reason why he must not come. +And just before luncheon an obliging Cousin Billy was prevailed upon +to undertake its delivery. + +When he had found Winton at the shale-slide, and had given him Miss +Carteret's mandate, the Reverend Billy did not return directly to the +Rosemary. On the contrary, he extended his tramp westward, stumbling +on aimlessly up the canyon over the unsurfaced embankment of the new +line. + +Truth to tell, Virginia's messenger was not unwilling to spend a +little time alone with the immensities. To put it baldly, he was +beginning to be desperately cloyed with the sweets of a day-long Miss +Bessie, ennuye on the one hand and despondent on the other. + +Why could not the Cousin Bessies see, without being told in so many +words, that the heart of a man may have been given in times long past +to another woman?--to a Cousin Virginia, let us say. And why must the +Cousin Virginias, passing by the lifelong devotion of a kinsman lover, +throw themselves--if one must put it thus brutally--fairly at the head +of an acquaintance of a day? + +So questioning the immensities, the Reverend Billy came out after some +little time in a small upland valley where the two lines, old and new, +ran parallel at the same level, with low embankments less than a +hundred yards apart. + +Midway of the valley the hundred-yard interspace was bridged by a +hastily-constructed spur track starting from a switch on the Colorado +and Grand River main line, and crossing the Utah right of way at a +broad angle. On this spur, at its point of intersection with the new +line, stood a heavy locomotive, steam up, and manned in every inch of +its standing-room by armed guards. + +The situation explained itself, even to a Reverend Billy. The Rajah +had not been idle during the interval of dinner-givings and social +divagations. He had acquired the right of way across the Utah's line +for his blockading spur; had taken advantage of Winton's inalertness +to construct the track; and was now prepared to hold the crossing with +a live engine and such a show of force as might be needful. + +Calvert turned back from the entrance of the valley, and was minded, +in a spirit of fairness, to pass the word concerning the new +obstruction on to the man who was most vitally concerned. But alas! +even a Reverend Billy may not always arise superior to his hamperings +as a man and a lover. Here was defeat possible--nay, say rather defeat +probable--for a rival, with the probability increasing with each hour +of delay. Calvert fought it out by length and by breadth a dozen times +before he came in sight of the track force toiling at the shale-slide. +Should he tell Winton, and so, indirectly, help to frustrate Mr. +Darrah's well-laid plan? Or should he hold his peace and thus, +indirectly again, help to defeat the Utah company? + +He put it that way in decent self-respect. Also he assured himself +that the personal equation as between two lovers of one and the same +woman was entirely eliminated. But who can tell which motive it was +that prompted him to turn aside before he came to the army of toilers +at the slide: to turn and cross the stream and make as wide a detour +as the nature of the ground would permit, passing well beyond call +from the other side of the canyon? + +The detour took him past the slide in silent safety, but it did not +take him immediately back to the Rosemary. Instead of keeping on down +the canyon on the C. G. R. side, he turned up the gulch at the back of +Argentine and spent the better half of the afternoon tramping beneath +the solemn spruces on the mountain. What the hours of solitude brought +him in the way of decision let him declare as he sets his face finally +toward the station and the private car. + +"I can't do it: I can't turn traitor to the kinsman whose bread I eat. +And that is what it would come to in plain English. Beyond that I have +no right to go: it is not for me to pass upon the justice of this +petty war between rival corporations." + +Ah, William Calvert! is there no word then of that other and far +subtler temptation? When you have reached your goal, if reach it you +may, will there be no remorseful looking back to this mile-stone where +a word from you might have taken the fly from your pot of precious +ointment? + +The short winter day was darkening to its close when he returned to +the Rosemary. By dint of judicious manoeuvering, with a too-fond +Bessie for an unconscious confederate, he managed to keep Virginia +from questioning him; this up to a certain moment of climaxes in the +evening. + +But Virginia read momentous things in his face and eyes, and when the +time was fully ripe she cornered him. It was the old story over again, +of a woman's determination to know pitted against a truthful man's +blundering efforts to conceal; and before he knew what he was about +Calvert had betrayed the Rajah's secret--which was also the secret of +the cipher telegrams. + +Miss Carteret said little--said nothing, indeed, that an anxious +kinsman lover could lay hold of. But when the secret was hers she +donned coat and headgear and went out on the square-railed platform, +whither the Reverend Billy dared not follow her. + +But another member of the Rosemary group had more courage---or fewer +scruples. When Miss Carteret let herself out of the rear door, Jastrow +disappeared in the opposite direction, passing through the forward +vestibule and dropping cat-like from the step to inch his way silently +over the treacherous snow-crust to a convenient spying place at the +other end of the car. + +Unfortunately for the spying purpose, the shades were drawn behind the +two great windows and the glass door, but the starlight sufficed to +show the watcher a shadowy Miss Virginia standing motionless on the +side which gave her an outlook down the canyon, leaning out, it might +be, to anticipate the upcoming of some one from the construction camp +below. + +The secretary, shivering in the knife-like wind slipping down from the +bald peaks, had not long to wait. By the time his eyes were fitted to +the darkness he heard a man coming up the track, the snow crunching +frostily under his steady stride. Jastrow ducked under the platform +and gained a viewpoint on the other side of the car. The crunching +footfalls had ceased, and a man was swinging himself up to the forward +step of the Rosemary. At the instant a voice just above the spy's head +called softly, "Mr. Winton!" and the new-comer dropped back into the +snow and came tramping to the rear. + +It was an awkward moment for Jastrow; but he made shift to dodge +again, and so to be out of the way when the engineer drew himself up +and climbed the hand-rail to stand beside his summoner. + +The secretary saw him take her hand and heard her exclamation, half +indignant, wholly reproachful: + +"You had my note: I told you not to come!" + +"So you did, and yet you were expecting me," he asserted. He was still +holding her hand, and she could not--or did not--withdraw it. + +"Was I, indeed!" There was a touch of the old-time raillery in the +words, but it was gone when she added: "Oh, why will you keep on +coming and coming when you know so well what it means to you and your +work?" + +"I think you know the answer to that better than anyone," he rejoined, +his voice matching hers for earnestness. "It is because I love you; +because I could not stay away if I should try. Forgive me, dear; I did +not mean to speak so soon. But you said in your note that you would be +leaving Argentine immediately--that I should not see you again: so I +had to come. Won't you give me a word, Virginia?--a waiting word, if +it must be that?" + +Jastrow held his breath, hope dying within him and sullen ferocity +crouching for the spring if her answer should urge it on. But when she +spoke the secretary's anger cooled and he breathed again. + +"No: a thousand times, no!" she burst out passionately; and Winton +staggered as if the suddenly-freed hand had dealt him a blow. + + + + +X + +SPIKED SWITCHES + + +For a little time after Virginia's passionate rejection of him Winton +stood abashed and confounded. Weighed in the balance of the +after-thought, his sudden and unpremeditated declaration could plead +little excuse in encouragement. And yet she had been exceedingly kind +to him. + +"I have no right to expect a better answer," he said finally, when he +could trust himself to speak. "But I am like other men: I should like +to know why." + +"You can ask that?" she retorted. "You say you have no right: what +have you done to expect a better answer?" + +He shrugged. "Nothing, I suppose. But you knew that before." + +"I only know what you have shown me during the past three weeks, and +it has proved that you are what Mr. Adams said you were--though he was +only jesting." + +"And that is?" + +"A _faineant_, a dilettante; a man with all the God-given ability to +do as he will and to succeed, and yet who will not take the trouble to +persevere." + +Winton smiled, a grim little smile. + +"You are not quite like any other woman I have ever known--not like +any other in the world, I believe. Your sisters, most of them, would +take it as the sincerest homage that a man should neglect his work for +his love. Do you care so much for success, then?" + +"For the thing itself--nothing, less than nothing. But--but one may +care a little for the man who wins or loses." + +He tried to take her hand again, tried and failed. + +"Virginia!--is that my word of hope?" + +"No. Will you never see the commonplace effrontery of it, Mr. Winton? +Day after day you have come here, idling away the precious hours that +meant everything to you, and now you come once again to offer me a +share in what you have lost. Is that your idea of chivalry, of true +manhood?" + +Again the grim smile came and went. + +"An unprejudiced onlooker might say that you have made me very +welcome." + +"Mr. Winton! Is that generous?" + +"No; perhaps it is hardly just. Because I counted the cost and have +paid the price open-eyed. You may remember that I told you that first +evening I should come as often as I dared. I knew then, what I have +known all along: that it was a part of your uncle's plan to delay my +work." + +"His and mine, you mean; only you are too kind--or not quite brave +enough--to say so." + +"Yours? Never! If I could believe you capable of such a thing--" + +"You may believe it," she broke in. "It was I who suggested it." + +He drew a deep breath, and she heard his teeth come together with a +click. It was enough to try the faith of the loyalest lover: it tried +his sorely. Yet he scarcely needed her low-voiced, "Don't you despise +me as I deserve, now?" to make him love her all the more. + +"Indeed, I don't. Resentment and love can hardly find room in the same +heart at the same time, and I have said that I love you," he rejoined +quickly. + +She went silent at that, and when she spoke again the listening +Jastrow tuned his ear afresh to lose no word. + +"As I have confessed, I suggested it: it was just after I had seen +your men and the sheriff's ready to fly at one another's throats. I +was miserably afraid, and I asked Uncle Somerville if he could not +make terms with you in some other way. I didn't mean--" + +He made haste to help her. + +"Please don't try to defend your motive to me; it is wholly +unnecessary. It is more than enough for me to know that you were +anxious about my safety." + +But she would not let him have the crumb of comfort undisputed. + +"There were other lives involved besides yours. I didn't say I was +specially afraid for you, did I?" + +"No, but you meant it. And I thought afterward that I should have +given you a hint in some way, though the way didn't offer at the time. +There was no danger of bloodshed. I knew--we all knew--that Deckert +wouldn't go to extremities with the small force he had." + +"Then it was only a--a--" + +"A bluff," he said, supplying the word. "If I had believed there was +the slightest possibility of a fight, I should have made my men take +to the woods rather than let you witness it." + +"You shouldn't have let me waste my sympathy," she protested +reproachfully. + +"I'm sorry; truly, I am. And you have been wasting it in another +direction as well. To-night will see the shale-slide conquered +definitely, I hope, and three more days of good weather will send us +into the Carbonate yards." + +She broke in upon him with a little cry of impatient despair. + +"That shows how unwary you have been! Tell me: is there not a little +valley just above here--an open place where your railroad and Uncle +Somerville's run side by side?" + +"Yes, it is a mile this side of the canyon head. What about it?" + +"How long is it since you have been up there?" she queried. + +Winton stopped to think. "I don't know--a week, possibly." + +"Yet if you had not been coming here every evening, you or Mr. Adams +would have found time to go--to watch every possible chance of +interference, wouldn't you?" + +"Perhaps. That was one of the risks I took, a part of the price-paying +I spoke of. If anything had happened, I should still be unrepentant." + +"Something _has_ happened. While you have been taking things for +granted, Uncle Somerville has been at work day and night. He has built +a track right across yours in that little valley, and he keeps a train +of cars or something, filled with armed men, standing there all the +time!" + +Winton gave a low whistle. Then he laughed mirthlessly. + +"You are quite sure of this?" he asked. "There is no possibility of +your being mistaken?" + +"None at all," she replied. "And I can only defend myself by saying +that I didn't know about it until a few minutes ago. What is to be +done? But stop; you needn't tell me. I am not worthy of your +confidence." + +"You are; you have just proved it. But there isn't anything to be +done. The next thing in order is the exit of one John Winton in +disgrace. That spur track and engine means a crossing fight which can +be prolonged indefinitely, with due vigilance on the part of Mr. +Darrah's mercenaries. I'm smashed, Miss Carteret, thoroughly and +permanently. Ah, well, it's only one more fool for love. Hadn't we +better go in? You'll take cold standing out here." + +She drew herself up and put her hands behind her. + +"Is that the way you take it, Mr. Winton?" + +The acrid laugh came again. + +"Would you have me tear a passion to tatters? My ancestors were not +French." + +Trying as the moment was, she could not miss her opportunity. + +"How can you tell when you don't know your grandfather's middle name?" +she said, half crying. + +His laugh at this was less acrid. "Adams again? My grandfather had no +middle name. But I mustn't keep you out here in the cold talking +genealogies." + +His hand was on the door to open it for her. Like a flash she came +between, and her fingers closed over his on the door-knob. + +"Wait," she said. "Have I done all this--humbled myself into the very +dust--to no purpose?" + +"Not if you will give me the one priceless word I am thirsting for." + +"Oh, how shameless you are!" she cried. "Will nothing serve to arouse +the better part of you?" + +"There is no better part of any man than his love for a woman. You +have aroused that." + +"_Then prove it by going and building your railroad_, Mr. Winton. When +you have done that--" + +He caught at the word as a drowning man catches at a straw. + +"When I have won the fight--Virginia, let me see your eyes--when I +have won, I may come back to you?" + +"I didn't say anything of the kind! But I will say what I said to Mr. +Adams. I like men who _do_ things. Good night." And before he could +reply she had made him open the door for her, and he was left alone on +the square-railed platform. + +In the gathering-room of the private car Virginia found an atmosphere +surcharged with electrical possibilities, felt it and inhaled it, +though there was nothing visible to indicate it. The Rajah was buried +in the depths of his particular easy-chair, puffing his cigar; Bessie +had the Reverend Billy in the tete-a-tete contrivance; and Mrs. +Carteret was reading under the Pintsch drop-light at the table. + +It was the chaperon who applied the firing spark to the electrical +possibilities. + +"Didn't I hear you talking to some one out on the platform, Virginia?" +she asked. + +"Yes, it was Mr. Winton. He came to make his excuses." + +Mr. Somerville Darrah awoke out of his tobacco reverie with a start. + +"Hah!" he said fiercely. Then, in his most courteous phrase: "Did I +undehstand you to say that Misteh Winton would not faveh us to-night, +my deah Virginia?" + +"He could not. He has come upon--upon some other difficulty, I +believe," she stammered, steering a perilous course among the rocks of +equivocation. + +"Mmph!" said the Rajah, rising. "Ah--where is Jastrow?" + +The obsequious one appeared, imp-like, at the mention of his name, and +received a curt order. + +"Go and find Engineer McGrath and his fireman. Tell him I want the +engine instantly. Move, seh!" + +Virginia retreated to her state-room. In a few minutes she heard her +uncle go out; and shortly afterward the Rosemary's engine shook itself +free of the car and rumbled away westward. At that, Virginia went back +to the others and found a book. But if waiting inactive were +difficult, reading was blankly impossible. + +"Goodness!" she exclaimed impatiently at last. "How hot you people +keep it in here! Cousin Billy, won't you take a turn with me on the +station platform? I can't breathe!" + +Calvert acquiesced eagerly, scenting an opportunity. But when they +were out under the frosty stars he had the good sense to walk her up +and down in the healing silence and darkness for five full minutes +before he ventured to say what was in his mind. + +When he spoke it was earnestly and to the purpose, not without +eloquence. He loved her; had always loved her, he thought. Could she +not, with time and the will to try, learn to love him?--not as a +cousin? + +She turned quickly and put both hands on his shoulders. + +"Oh, Cousin Billy--_don't_!" she faltered brokenly; and he, seeing at +once that he had played the housebreaker where he would fain have been +the welcome guest, took his punishment manfully, drawing her arm in +his and walking her yet other turns up and down the long platform +until his patience and the silence had wrought their perfect work. + +"Does it hurt much?" she asked softly, after a long time. + +"You would have to change places with me to know just how much it +hurts," he answered. "And yet you haven't left me quite desolate, +Virginia. I still have something left--all I've ever had, I fancy." + +"And that is--" + +"My love for you, you know. It isn't at all contingent upon your yes +or no; or upon possession--it never has been, I think. It has never +asked much except the right to be." + +She was silent for a moment. Then she said: "Cousin Billy, I do +believe that you are the best man that ever lived. And I am +ashamed--ashamed!" + +"What for?" + +"If I have spoiled you, ever so little, for some truer, worthier +woman." + +"You haven't," he responded; "you mustn't take that view of it. I am +decently in love with my work--a work that not a few wise men have +agreed could best be done alone. I don't think there will be any other +woman. You see, there is only one Virginia. Shall we go in now?" + +She nodded, but when they reached the Rosemary the returning engine +was rattling down upon the open siding. Virginia drew back. + +"I don't want to meet Uncle Somerville just now," she confessed. +"Can't we climb up to the observation platform at the other end of the +car?" + +He said yes, and made the affirmative good by lifting her in his arms +over the high railing. Once safely on the car, she bade him leave her. + +"Slip in quietly and they won't notice," she said. "I'll come +presently." + +Calvert obeyed, and Virginia stood alone in the darkness. Down in the +Utah construction camp lights were darting to and fro; and before long +she heard the hoarse puffs of the big octopod, betokening activities. + +She was shivering a little in the chill wind sliding down from the +snow-peaks, yet she would not go in until she had made sure. In a +little time her patience was rewarded. The huge engine came storming +up the grade on the new line, pushing its three flat-cars, which were +black with clinging men. On the car nearest the locomotive, where the +dazzling beam of the headlight pricked him out for her, stood Winton, +braced against the lurchings of the train over the uneven track. + +"God speed you, my--love!" she murmured softly; and when the gloom of +the upper canyon cleft had engulfed man and men and storming engine +she turned to go in. + +She was groping for the door-knob in the darkness made thicker by the +glare of the passing headlight when a voice, disembodied for the +moment, said: "Wait a minute, Miss Carteret; I'd like to have a word +with you." + +She drew back quickly. + +"Is it you, Mr. Jastrow? Let me go in, please." + +"In one moment. I have something to say to you--something you ought to +hear." + +"Can't it be said on the other side of the door? I am cold--very cold, +Mr. Jastrow." + +It was his saving hint, but he would not take it. + +"No, it must be said to you alone. We have at least one thing in +common, Miss Carteret--you and I: that is a proper appreciation of the +successful realities. I--" + +She stopped him with a quick little gesture of impatience. + +"Will you be good enough to stand aside and let me go in?" + +The keen breath of the snow-caps was summer-warm in comparison with +the chilling iciness of her manner; but the secretary went on unmoved: + +"Success is the only thing worth while in this world. Winton will +fail, but I shan't. And when I do succeed, I shall marry a woman who +can wear the purple most becomingly." + +"I hope you may, I'm sure," she answered wearily. "Yet you will excuse +me if I say that I don't understand how it concerns me, or why you +should keep me out here in the cold to tell me about it." + +"Don't you? It concerns you very nearly. You are the woman, Miss +Carteret." + +"Indeed? And if I decline the honor?" + +The contingency was one for which the suitor seemed not entirely +prepared. Yet he evinced a willingness to meet the hypothesis in a +spirit of perfect candor. + +"You wouldn't do that, definitely, I fancy. It would be tantamount to +driving me to extremities." + +"If you will tell me how I can do it 'definitely,' I shall be most +happy to drive you to extremities, or anywhere else out of my way," +she said frigidly. + +"Oh, I think not," he rejoined. "You wouldn't want me to go and tell +Mr. Darrah how you have betrayed him to Mr. Winton. I had the singular +good fortune to overhear you conversation--yours and Mr. Winton's, you +know; and if Mr. Darrah knew, he would cut you out of his will with +very little compunction, don't you think? And, really, you mustn't +throw yourself away on that sentimental Tommy of an engineer, Miss +Virginia. He'll never be able to give you the position you're fitted +for." + +Since French was a dead language to Mr. Arthur Jastrow, he never knew +what it was that Miss Carteret named him. But she left him in no doubt +as to her immediate purpose. + +"If that be the case, we would better go and find my uncle at once," +she said in her softest tone; and before he could object she had led +the way to the Rajah's working-den state-room. + +Mr. Darrah was deep in one of the cipher telegrams when they entered, +and he looked up to glare fiercely at one and then the other of the +intruders. Virginia gave her persecutor no time to lodge his +accusation. + +"Uncle Somerville, Mr. Winton was here an hour ago, as you know, and I +told him what you had done--what I had helped you do. Also, I sent him +about his business; which is to win his railroad fight if he can. Mr. +Jastrow overheard the conversation, purposely, and as he threatens to +turn informer, I am saving him the trouble. Perhaps I ought to add that +he offered to hold his peace if I would promise to marry him." + +What the unlucky Jastrow might have said in his own behalf is not to +be here set down in peaceful black and white. With the final word of +Virginia's explanation the fierce old master of men was up and +clutching for the secretary's throat, and the working complement of +the Rosemary suffered instant loss. + +"You'll spy upon a membeh of my family, will you, seh!" he stormed. +"Out with you, bag and baggage, befo' I lose my tempeh and forget what +is due to this young lady you have insulted, seh, with your infamous +proposals! Faveh me instantly, while you have a leg to run with! Go!" + +Jastrow disappeared; and when the door closed behind him Virginia +faced her irate clan-chief bravely. + +"He was a spy, and he would have been a traitor. But I am little +better. What will you do to me?" + +The Rajah's wrath evaporated quickly, and a shrewd smile, not +unkindly, wrinkled the ruddy old face. + +"So it was a case of the trappeh trapped, was it, my deah? I'm +sorry--right sorry. I might have known how it would be; a youngeh man +would have known. But you have done no unpahdonable mischief: Misteh +Winton would have found out for himself in a few hours, and we are +ready for him now." + +"Oh, dear! Then he will be beaten?" + +"Unquestionably. Faveh me by going to bed, my deah. Your roses will +suffeh sadly for all this excitement, I feah. Good night." + + + + +XI + +THE RIGHT OF WAY + + +It seemed to Virginia that she had but just fallen asleep when she was +rudely awakened by the jar and grind of the Rosemary's wheels on +snow-covered rails. Drawing the curtain, she found that a new day was +come, gray and misty white in the gusty swirl of a mountain +snow-squall. + +Without disturbing the sleeping Bessie, she dressed quickly and +slipped out to see what the early-morning change of base portended. +The common room was empty when she entered it, but before she could +cross to the door the Reverend Billy came in, stamping the snow from +his feet. + +"What is it?" she asked eagerly. "Are we off for California?" + +"No, it's some more of the war. Winton has outgeneraled us. During the +night he pushed his track up to the disputed crossing, 'rushed' the +guarded engine, and ditched it." + +Virginia felt that she ought to be decorously sorry for relationship's +sake, but the effort ended in a little paean of joy. + +"But Uncle Somerville--what will he do?" + +"He is with McGrath on the engine, getting himself--and us--to the +front in a hurry, as you perceive." + +"Isn't it too late to stop Mr. Winton now?" + +"I don't know. From what I could overhear I gathered that the ditched +engine is still in the way; that they are trying to roll it over into +the creek. Bless me! McGrath is getting terribly reckless!"--this as a +spiteful lurch of the car flung them both across the compartment. + +"Say Uncle Somerville," she amended. "Don't charge it to Mr. McGrath. +Can't we go out on the platform?" + +"It's as much as your life is worth," he asserted, but he opened the +door for her. + +The car was backing swiftly up the grade with the engine behind +serving as a "pusher." At first the fiercely-driven snow-whirl made +Virginia gasp. Then the speed slackened and she could breathe and see. + +The shrilling wheels were tracking around a curve into a scanty +widening of the canyon. To the left, on the rails of the new line, the +big octopod was heaving and grunting in the midst of an army of +workmen swarming thick upon the overturned guard engine. + +"Goodness! it's like a battle!" she shuddered. As she spoke the +Rosemary stopped with a jerk and McGrath's fireman darted past to set +the spur-track switch. + +The points were snow-clogged, and the fireman wrestled with the lever, +saying words. The delay was measurable in heart-beats, but it +sufficed. The big octopod coughed thrice like a mighty giant in a +consumption; the clustering workmen scattered like chaff to a ringing +shout of "Stand clear!" and the obstructing mass of iron and steel +rolled, wallowing and hissing, into the stream. + +"Rails to the front! Hammermen!" yelled Winton; and the scattered +force rallied instantly. + +But now the wrestling fireman had thrown the switch, and at the +Rajah's command the Rosemary shot out on the spur to be thrust with +locked brakes fairly into the breach left defenseless by the ditched +engine. With a mob-roar of wrath the infuriated track-layers made a +rush for the new obstruction. But Winton was before them. + +"Hold on!" he shouted, bearing them back with outflung arms. "Hold on, +men, for God's sake! There are women in that car!" + +The wrathful wave broke and eddied murmurous while a square-shouldered +old man with fierce eyes and huge white mustaches, and with an extinct +cigar between his teeth, clambered down from the Rosemary's engine to +say: + +"Hah! a ratheh close connection, eh, Misteh Winton? Faveh me with a +match, if you please, seh. May I assume that you won't tumble my +private car into the ditch?" + +Winton was white-hot, but he found a light for the Rajah's cigar, +easing his mind only as he might with Virginia looking on. + +"I shall be more considerate of the safety of the ladies than you seem +to be, Mr. Darrah," he retorted. "You are taking long chances in this +game, sir." + +The Rajah's laugh rumbled deep in his chest. "Not so vehy much longer +than you have been taking during the past fo'tnight, my deah seh. But +neveh mind; all's fair in love or war, and we appeah to be having a +little of both now up heah in Qua'tz Creek, hah?" + +Winton flushed angrily. It was no light thing to be mocked before his +men, to say nothing of Miss Carteret standing within arm's reach on +the railed platform of the Rosemary. + +"Perhaps I shall give you back that word before we are through, Mr. +Darrah," he snapped. Then to the eddying mob-wave: "Tools up, boys. We +camp here for breakfast. Branagan, send the Two-fifteen down for the +cook's outfit." + +The Rajah dropped his cigar butt in the snow and trod upon it. + +"Possibly you will faveh us with your company to breakfast in the +Rosemary, Misteh Winton--you and Misteh Adams. No? Then I bid you a +vehy good morning, gentlemen, and hope to see you lateh." And he swung +up to the steps of the private car. + +Half an hour afterward, the snow still whirling dismally, Winton and +Adams were cowering over a handful of hissing embers, drinking their +commissary coffee and munching the camp cook's poor excuse for a +breakfast. + +"Jig's up pretty definitely, don't you think?" said Adams, with a +glance around at the idle track force huddling for shelter under the +lee of the flats and the octopod. + +Winton shook his head and groaned. "I'm a ruined man, Morty." + +Adams found his cigarette case. + +"I guess that's so," he said quite heartlessly. Then: "Hello! what is +our friend the enemy up to now?" + +McGrath's fireman was uncoupling the engine from the Rosemary, and Mr. +Somerville Darrah, complacently lighting his after breakfast cigar, +came across to the hissing ember fire. + +"A word with you, gentlemen, if you will faveh me," he began. "I am +about to run down to Argentine on my engine, and I propose leaving the +ladies in your cha'ge, Misteh Winton. Will you give me your word of +honeh, seh, that they will not be annoyed in my absence?" + +Winton sprang up, losing his temper again. + +"It's--well, it's blessed lucky that you know your man, Mr. Darrah!" +he exploded. "Go on about your business--which is to bring another +army of deputy-sheriffs down on us, I take it. You know well enough +that no man of mine will lay a hand on your car so long as the ladies +are in it." + +The Rajah thanked him, dismissed the matter with a Chesterfieldian +wave of his hand, climbed to his place in the cab, and the engine +shrilled away around the curve and disappeared in the snow-wreaths. + +Adams rose and stretched himself. + +"By Jove! when it comes to cheek, pure and unadulterated, commend me +to a Virginia gentleman who has acquired the proper modicum of Western +bluff," he laughed. Then, with a cavernous yawn dating back to the +sleepless night: "Since there is nothing immediately pressing, I +believe I'll go and call on the ladies. Won't you come along for a +while?" + +"No!" said Winton savagely; and the assistant lounged off by himself. + +Some little time afterward Winton, glooming over his handful of +spitting embers, saw Adams and Virginia come out to stand together on +the observation platform of the Rosemary. They talked long and +earnestly, and when Winton was beginning to add the dull pang of +unreasoning jealousy to his other hurtings, Adams beckoned him. He +went, not unwillingly, or altogether willingly. + +"I should think you might come and say 'Good morning' to me, Mr. +Winton. I'm not Uncle Somerville," said Miss Carteret. + +Winton said "Good morning," not too graciously, and Adams mocked him. + +"Besides being a bear with a sore head, Miss Carteret thinks you're +not much of a hustler, Jack," he said coolly. "She knows the +situation; knows that you were stupid enough to promise not to lay +hands on the car when we could have pushed it out of the way without +annoying anybody. None the less, she thinks that you might find a way +to go on building your railroad without breaking your word to Mr. +Darrah." + +Winton put his sore-heartedness far enough behind him to smile and +say: "Perhaps Miss Virginia will be good enough to tell me how." + +"I don't know how," she rejoined quickly. "And you'd only laugh at me +if I should tell you what I thought of." + +"You might try it and see," he ventured. "I'm desperate enough to take +suggestions from anyone." + +"Tell me something first: is your railroad obliged to run straight +along in the middle of this nice little ridge you've been making for +it?" + +"Why--no; temporarily, it can run anywhere. But the problem is to get +the track laid beyond this crossing before your uncle gets back with a +trainload of armed guards." + +"Any kind of track would do, wouldn't it?--just to secure the +crossing?" + +"Certainly; anything that would hold the weight of the octopod. We +shall have to rebuild most of the line, anyway, as soon as the frost +comes out of the ground in the spring." + +The brown eyes became far-seeing. + +"I was thinking," she said musingly. "There is no time to make another +nice little ridge. But you have piles and piles of logs over +there,"--she meant the cross-ties,--"couldn't you build a sort of +cobhouse ridge with those between your track and Uncle's, and cross +behind the car? Don't laugh, please." + +But Winton was far enough from laughing at her. Why so simple an +expedient had not suggested itself instantly he did not stop to +inquire. It was enough that the Heaven-born idea had been given. + +"Down out of that, Morty!" he cried. "It's one chance in a thousand. +Pass the word to the men; I'll be with you in a second." And when +Adams was rousing the track force with the bawling shout of +"_Ev-erybody_!" Winton looked up into the brown eyes. + +"My debt to you was already very great: I owe you more now," he said. + +But she gave him his quittance in a whiplike retort. + +"And you will stand here talking about it when every moment is +precious? Go!" she commanded; and he went. + +So now we are to conceive the maddest activity leaping into being in +full view of the watchers at the windows of the private car. Winton's +chilled and sodden army, welcoming any battle-cry of action, flew to +the work with a will. In a twinkling the corded piles of cross-ties +had melted to reappear in cobhouse balks bridging an angle from the +Utah embankment to that of the spur track in the rear of the +blockading Rosemary. In briefest time the hammermen were spiking the +rails on the rough-and-ready trestle, and the Italians were bringing +up the crossing-frogs. + +But the Rajah, astute colonel of industry, had not left himself +defenseless. On the contrary, he had provided for this precise +contingency by leaving McGrath's fireman in mechanical command on the +Rosemary. If Winton should attempt to build around the private car, +the fireman was to wait till the critical moment: then he was to +lessen the pressure on the automatic air-brakes and let the car drop +back down the grade just far enough to block the new crossing. + +So it came about that this mechanical lieutenant waited, laughing in +his sleeve, until he saw the Italians coming with the crossing-frogs. +Then, judging the time to be fully ripe, he ducked under the Rosemary +to "bleed" the air-brake. + +Winton heard the hiss of the escaping air above all the industry +clamor; heard, and saw the car start backward. Then he had a flitting +glimpse of a man in grimy overclothes scrambling terror-frenzied from +beneath the Rosemary. The thing done had been overdone. The fireman +had "bled" the air-brake too freely, and the liberated car, gathering +momentum with every wheel-turn, surged around the circling spur track +and shot out masterless on the steeper gradient of the main line. + +Now, for the occupants of a runaway car on a Rocky Mountain canyon +line there is death and naught else. Winton saw, in a phantasmagoric +flash of second sight, the meteor flight of the heavy car; saw the +Reverend Billy's ineffectual efforts to apply the hand-brakes, if by +good hap he should even guess that there were any hand-brakes; saw the +car, bounding and lurching, keeping to the rails, mayhap, for some few +miles below Argentine, where it would crash headlong into the upward +climbing Carbonate train, and all would end. + +In unreasoning misery, he did the only thing that offered: ran blindly +down his own embankment, hoping nothing but that he might have one +last glimpse of Virginia clinging to the hand-rail before she should +be lost to him for ever. + +But as he ran a thought white-hot from the furnace of despair fell +into his brain to set it ablaze with purpose. Beyond the litter of +activities the octopod was standing, empty of its crew. Bounding up +into the cab, he released the brake and sent the great engine flying +down the track of the new line. + +In the measuring of the first mile the despair-born thought took shape +and form. If he could outpace the runaway on the parallel line, stop +the octopod and dash across to the C. G. R. track ahead of the +Rosemary, there was one chance in a million that he might fling +himself upon the car in mid flight and alight with life enough left to +help Calvert with the hand-brakes. + +Now, in the most unhopeful struggle it is often the thing least hoped +for that comes to pass. At Argentine, Winton's speed was a mile a +minute over a track rougher than a corduroy wagon-road; yet the +octopod held the rail and was neck and neck with the runaway. Whisking +past the station, Winton had a glimpse of a white-mustached old man +standing bareheaded on the platform and gazing horror-stricken at the +tableau; then man and station and lurching car were left behind, and +the fierce strife to gain the needed mile of lead went on. + +Three miles more of the surging, racking, nerve-killing race and +Winton had his hand's-breadth of lead and had picked his place for the +million-chanced wrestle with death. It was at the C. G. R. station of +Tierra Blanca, just below a series of sharp curves which he hoped +might check a little the arrow-like flight of the runaway. + +Twenty seconds later the telegraph operator at the lonely little way +station of Tierra Blanca saw a heroic bit of man-play. The +upward-bound Carbonate train was whistling in the gorge below when out +of the snow-wreaths shrouding the new line a big engine shot down to +stop with fire grinding from the wheels, and a man dropped from the +high cab to dash across to the station platform. + +At the same instant a runaway passenger car thundered out of the +canyon above. The man crouched, flung himself at it in passing, missed +the forward hand-rail, caught the rear, was snatched from his feet and +trailed through the air like the thong of a whip-lash, yet made good +his hold and clambered on. + +This was all the operator saw, but when he had snapped his key and run +out he heard the shrill squeal of the brakes on the car and knew that +the man had not risked his life for nothing. + +And on board the Rosemary? Winton, spent to the last breath, was lying +prone on the railed platform, where he had fallen when the last twist +had been given to the shrieking brakes. + +"Run, Calvert! Run ahead and--stop--the--up-train!" he gasped; then +the light went out of the gray eyes and Virginia wept unaffectedly and +fell to dabbling his forehead with handfuls of snow. + +"Help me get him in to the divan, Cousin Billy," said Virginia, when +all was over and the Rosemary was safely coupled in ahead of the +upcoming train to be slowly pushed back to Argentine. + +But Winton opened his eyes and struggled to his feet unaided. + +"Not yet," he said. "I've left my automobile on the other side of the +creek; and besides, I have a railroad to build. My respects to Mr. +Darrah, and you may tell him I'm not beaten yet." And he swung over +the railing and dropped off to mount the octopod and to race it back +to the front. + + * * * * * + +Three days afterward, to a screaming of smelter whistles and other +noisy demonstrations of mining-camp joy, the Utah Short Line laid the +final rail of its new Extension in the Carbonate yards. + +The driving of the silver spike accomplished, Winton and Adams slipped +out of the congratulatory throng and made their way across the +C. G. R. tracks to a private car standing along the siding. Its railed +platform, commanding a view of the civic celebration, had its quota of +onlookers--a fierce-eyed old man with huge mustaches, an athletic +young clergyman, two Bisques, and a goddess. + +"Climb up, Misteh Winton, and you, Misteh Adams; climb up and join +us," said the fierce-eyed one heartily. "Virginia, heah, thinks we +ought to call one anotheh out, but I tell her--" + +What the Rajah had told his niece is of small account to us. But what +Winton whispered in her ear when he had taken his place beside her is +more to the purpose of this history. + +"I have built my railroad, as you told me to, and now I have come for +my--" + +"Hush!" she said softly. "Can't you wait?" + +"No." + +"Shameless one!" she murmured. + +But when the Rajah proposed an adjournment to the gathering-room of +the car, and to luncheon therein, he surprised them standing +hand-in-hand and laughed. + +"Hah, you little rebel!" he said. "Do you think you dese've that block +of stock I promised you when you should marry? Anseh me, my deah." + +She blushed and shook her head, but the brown eyes were dancing. + +The Rajah opened the car door with his courtliest bow. + +"Nevertheless, you shall have it, my deah Virginia, if only to remind +an old man of the time when he was simple enough to make a business +confederate of a cha'ming young woman. Straight on, Misteh Adams; +afteh you, Misteh Winton." + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, A FOOL FOR LOVE *** + +This file should be named flflv10.txt or flflv10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, flflv11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, flflv10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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