diff options
Diffstat (limited to '8073-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 8073-h/8073-h.htm | 5278 |
1 files changed, 5278 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/8073-h/8073-h.htm b/8073-h/8073-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d589b0f --- /dev/null +++ b/8073-h/8073-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5278 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + A Fool for Love, by Francis Lynde + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +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: 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. 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. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + </body> +</html> |