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diff --git a/8385-0.txt b/8385-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fec1e43 --- /dev/null +++ b/8385-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7894 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Short Line War, by Samuel Merwin + +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: The Short Line War + +Author: Samuel Merwin + + +Release Date: June, 2005 [EBook #8385] +This file was first posted on July 5, 2003 +Last Updated: March 13, 2018 + + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHORT LINE WAR *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Beth Trapaga and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + +THE SHORT LINE WAR + + +By Samuel Merwin + + + +CHAPTER + + I. JIM WEEKS + II. MR. MCNALLY GOES TO TILLMAN CITY + III. POLITICS AND OTHER THINGS + IV. JIM WEEKS CLOSES IN + V. TUESDAY EVENING + VI. JUDGE BLACK + VII. BETWEEN THE LINES + VIII. JUDGE GREY + IX. THE MATTER OF POSSESSION + X. SOMEBODY LOSES THE BOOKS + XI. A POLITICIAN + XII. KATHERINE + XIII. TRAIN NO. 14 + XIV. A CAPTURE AT BRUSHINGHAM + XV. DEUS EX MACHINA + XVI. MCNALLY'S EXPEDIENT + XVII. IN THE DARK + XVIII. THE COMING OF DAWN + XIX. KATHERINE DECIDES + XX. HARVEY + XXI. THE TILLMAN CITY STOCK + XXII. THE WINNING OF THE ROAD + XXIII. THE SURRENDER + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +JIM WEEKS + + +James Weeks came of a fighting stock. + +His great-grandfather, Ashbel Weeks, was born in Connecticut in 1748; he +migrated to New York in '70, and settled among the Oneida Indians on the +Upper Mohawk. It was the kind of life he was built for; he sniffed at +danger like a young horse catching a breath off the meadows. He did not +take the war fever until St. Leger came up the valley, when he fought +beside Herkimer in the ambush on Oriskany Creek. He joined the army of +the North, and remained with it through the long three years that +ended at Yorktown; then he married, and returned to his home among the +half-civilized Oneidas. + +His oldest son, Jonathan, was born in '90. He grew like his father +in physique and temperament, and his migrating disposition led him +to Kentucky. The commercial instinct, which had never appeared in his +father, was strong in him, so that he turned naturally to trading. He +began in a small way, but he succeeded at it, and amassed what was then +considered a large fortune. + +In 1823 he moved to Louisville, and interested himself in promoting the +steamboat traffic on the Ohio and Mississippi rivers. As the business +developed, Jonathan Weeks's fortune grew with it. His only son, who +was born in 1815, was sent to Harvard; he spent a very merry four years +there, and a good deal of money. He fell in love in the meantime, and +married immediately after his graduation. Not many months after his +marriage he was killed by the accidental discharge of a rifle, and, +shortly after this, his widow died in giving birth to a son. + +The care of the child devolved entirely upon Jonathan, the grandfather. +He assumed it gladly, even eagerly, and his whole existence soon centred +about the boy, and James--for so they had named him--became more to him +than his son had ever been. It grew evident that he would have the +Weeks build, and, by the time he was fifteen, he was as lean, big-boned, +awkward a hobbledehoy as the old man could wish. His grandfather's +wealth did not spoil him in the least; he was the kind of a boy it would +have been difficult to spoil. + +He had no fondness for books, but it is to be doubted if that was much +of a grief to his grandfather. He was good at mathematics,--he used to +work out problems for fun,--and an excellent memory for certain kinds +of details enabled him to master geography without difficulty. The great +passion of his boyhood was for the big, roaring, pounding steamboats +that went down to New Orleans. His ambition, like that of nearly every +boy who lived in sight of those packets, was to be a river pilot, and he +was nearing his majority before he outgrew it. + +He was twenty-two years old when he fell in love with Ethel Harvey. She +was nineteen when she came home from the Eastern school where she had +spent the past five years, and she burst upon Jim in the first glory +of her womanhood. When she had grown an old woman the young girls still +envied her beauty, and wondered what it must have been in its first +bloom. Small wonder that Jim fell in love with her; it was inevitable. + +He first saw her, after her return, on a bright June morning as he was +strolling down the path from his grandfather's house to the street. She +was riding her big bay mare at a smart gallop, but she pulled up short +at sight of him, and drawing off a riding gauntlet held out her hand. +From that moment Jim loved her. The old man was coming down the path, +but seeing them there together, he paused, for they made a striking +picture. Her little silk hat sat daintily on her hair, which would +be rebellious and fluffy; the dark green riding habit with its tight +sleeves revealed the perfect lines of her lithe figure, which swayed +gracefully as the mare pawed and backed and plunged, impatient for the +morning gallop. She seemed quite indifferent to the protests of the +big brute, and talked merrily to Jim, who stood looking up at her in +bewildered admiration. At last she shook hands again and rode away, +and Jonathan Weeks walked back into the house with a satisfied smile. +“They'll do,” he said. + +It looked as though they would. Through the short happy weeks that +followed, Ethel did not ride alone. Together they explored the country +lanes or left them for a dash straight across the fields, taking +anything that chanced to be in the way. In their impromptu races, which +were frequent, Ethel almost always won; for racer though he was, Jim's +sorrel found the two hundred and eight pounds he carried too much of +a handicap. So the days went by, and though nothing was said about it, +they talked to each other, and thought of each other, as lovers do. + +But all the while there was growing in Ethel's mind an intuition that +something was wrong. She had not an analytical mind, but she became +convinced that though she might learn to understand Jim, he could never +understand her. It was not only that she was the first woman who had +come into his life, though that had much to do with it. But he was a man +without much instinct or imagination; he took everything seriously and +literally, he could not understand a whim. And when she saw how her +pretty feminine inconsistencies puzzled him, and how he failed to +understand the whimsical, butterfly fancies she confided to him, she +would cry with vexation, and think she hated him; but then the knightly +devotion of his big heart would win her back again, and her tears would +cease to burn her cheeks, and she would tell herself how unworthy she +was of the love of a man like that. But the trouble was still there; +Ethel grew sad, and Jim, more than ever, failed to understand. The old +man watched, but said nothing. + +One evening Jim took her out on the river. It was the summer of +'61, when the North was learning how bitter was the task it had to +accomplish. Kentucky was disputed ground and feeling ran high there; +little else was thought of. Jim had been talking to her for some time +on this all-absorbing topic while she sat silent in the stern, her hand +trailing in the water. Finally he asked why she was so quiet. + +“I think this war is very stupid,” she said. “Let's talk about”--here +she paused and her eyes followed the big night boat which was churning +its way down the river--“about paddle-wheels, or port lights, or +something.” + +Jim said nothing; he had nothing to say. She went on:-- + +“Don't you think it is tiresome to always mean what you say? I hate to +tell the truth. Anybody can do that.” + +“I thought,” said Jim, “that you believed in sincerity.” + +“Oh, of course I do,” she exclaimed impatiently, and again Jim was +silent. + +The next day he took her for a drive and it was then that the end came. +They had been having a glorious time, for the rapid motion and the +bright sunshine had driven away her mood of the night before and she was +perfectly happy; Jim was happy in her happiness. The half-broken colts +were fairly steady and he let her drive them and turned in his seat so +that he could watch her. As he looked at her there, her head erect, her +elbows squared, her bright eyes looking straight out ahead, Jim +fell deeper than ever in love with her. The colts felt a new and +unrestraining hand on the reins, and the pace increased rapidly. Jim +noted it. + +“You'd better pull up a little,” he said. “They'll be getting away from +you.” + +“I love to go this way,” she replied, and over the reins she told the +colts the same thing, in a language they understood. Suddenly one of +them broke, and in a second both were running. + +“Pull 'em in,” said Jim, sharply. “Here--give me the reins.” + +“I can hold them,” she protested wilfully. + +Then, without hesitation and with perfectly unconscious brutality, Jim +tore the reins out of her hands, and addressed himself to the task of +quieting the horses. + +It was not easy, but he was cool and strong, and the horses knew he was +their master; nevertheless it was several minutes before he had them on +their legs again. During that time neither had spoken; then Jim waited +for her to break the silence. He was somewhat vexed, for he thought she +had deliberately exposed herself to an unnecessary peril. But she said +nothing and they finished their drive in silence. + +At her door he sprang out to help her to alight, but she ignored his +offered aid. Though she turned away he saw that there were tears in her +eyes. + +“Ethel,” he said softly, but she faced him in a flash of anger. + +“Don't speak to me. Oh--how I hate you!” + +Jim seemed suddenly to grow bigger. “Will you please tell me if you mean +that?” he said slowly. + +“I mean just that,” she answered. “I--I hate you.” She stood still a +moment; then she seemed to choke, and turning, fled into the house. + +To Jim's mind that was the end of it. She had told him that she hated +him. The fact that there had been a catch in her voice as she said it +weighed not at all with him; that was an unknown language. So he took +her literally and exactly and went away by himself to think it over. + +He was late for dinner that night, and when he came in his grandfather +was pacing the dining room. But Jim wasted no words in explanation. + +“Grandfather,” he said, “I think if you won't need me for a while I'll +enlist to-morrow.” + +“I can get along all right,” said the old man, “but I'm sorry you're +going.” + +The older man was looking at the younger one narrowly. Suddenly and +bluntly he asked:-- + +“Is anything the matter with you and Ethel Harvey?” + +Jim nodded, and without further invitation or questioning he related the +whole incident. “That's all there is to it,” he concluded. “The team had +bolted and she wouldn't give me the reins; so I took them away from her +and pulled in the horses. There was nothing else to do.” + +“And then she said she hated you,” added Jonathan, musingly. “I reckon +she hasn't much sense.” + +“It ain't that,” Jim answered quickly. “She's got sense enough. The +trouble with her is she's too damned plucky.” + +A few days later he was a private in the Nineteenth Indiana Volunteers. +He made a good soldier, for not only did he love danger as had his +great-grandfather before him, but he had nerves which months of inaction +could not set jangling, and a constitution which hardship and privation +could not undermine. + +The keenest delight he had ever known came with his first experience +under fire. He felt his breath coming in long deep inhalations; he could +think faster and more clearly than at other times, and he knew that his +hands were steady and his aim was good. Somehow it seemed that years +of life were crowded into those few minutes, and he retired reluctantly +when the order came. + +His regiment was in the Army of the Potomac, and the story of its +waiting and blundering and magnificent fighting need not be told again +in these pages. Jim was one of thousands of brave, intelligent fighters +who did not rise to the command of a division or even of a regiment. +He was a lieutenant in Company E when the Nineteenth marched down the +Emmittsburg Pike, through Gettysburg and out to the ridge beyond, to +hold it until reenforcements should come. + +They fought there during four long hours, until the thin line of +blue could hold no longer, and gray ranks under Ewell and Fender had +enveloped both flanks. Then sullenly they came back through the town, +still firing defiantly, and cursing the help that had not come. It +was during this retreat that Jim was hit, but he did not drop. +Somehow--though as in a dream--he kept with his regiment, and it was not +until they were rallied in the cemetery on the other side of the town +that he pitched forward and lay quite still. + +Everybody knows how the Eleventh Corps held the cemetery through the two +bloody days that followed. But Jim was unconscious of it all, for he lay +on a cot in the Sanitary Commission tent, raving in delirium. And the +surgeons and nurses looked at him gravely and wondered with every hour +why he did not die. + +But, as one of his comrades had said, “it took a lot of pounding to lick +Jim Weeks,” and in a surprisingly short time he was strong enough to be +taken home. + +When he first saw his grandfather he was dimly conscious of a change +in him, and as he grew stronger and better able to observe closely he +became surer of it. Jonathan had been a young old man when Jim went +away; now he looked every one of his seventy-three years, and instead +of the tireless energy of former times Jim noted a listlessness hard to +understand. + +One night after both had gone to bed Jim heard his grandfather groping +his way down the stairs and out upon the veranda. He listened intently +until he heard the creak of the rocking chair, which told him that the +old man was visiting again with old friends and old fancies. The slow +rhythm lulled Jim into a doze, and then into sleep. He awakened with a +start; his pioneer blood made him a light sleeper, and he knew that the +old man could not have got upstairs and past his door without waking +him. “He must have gone to sleep down there,” thought Jim, and rising he +went down to the veranda. Jonathan had gone to sleep, but the black cob +pipe was clenched between rigid jaws; his sightless eyes were open and +seemed to be looking at the stars. + +At first Jim felt that sails, helm, and compass had been swept clean +away, but he was strong enough to recover his bearings quickly. His +grandfather's death marked an end and a beginning, and just as a needle +when a magnet is taken away swings unerringly into the line of force of +the original magnet, the earth, so Jim's life swung to a new direction. +There was no one whose life could direct or influence his, and alone he +started on what business men of the next generation knew as his career. + +The war had lessened but not destroyed Jonathan's fortune, and it went +without reservation to Jim. The times offered golden opportunities to +a man with ready money and good business training, and his success was +almost inevitable. His life from this time was the logical working out +of what he had in him. + +He turned naturally to the railroad business, and those who know the +history of Western railroads from '65 to '90 will understand what a +field it was for a man who was at once fearless and level-headed. The +craze for construction and then the equally mad competition did not +confuse him, they simply gave him opportunities. When the reaction +against the railroads set in, and the Granger movement wrecked nearly +all the Western roads, Jim bowed to the inevitable, but he saved +himself--no one knew just how--and when the State legislators were over +their midsummer madness he was again in the field, and again succeeding. + +With the details of these struggles we are not concerned. The “inside” + history of many of them will never be known; in almost every case it +differs materially from the story which appeared in the papers. Jim +became famous and was libelled and flattered, respected and abused, by +turns; but always he was feared. He was supposed to be dishonest, and +it is true he did not scruple to use his enemies' weapons; but at +directors' meetings it was the interest of the stockholders that he +fought for. + +Men wondered at his success, and over their cigars gravely discussed +the reasons for it. Some said it was sheer good luck that turned what +he touched to gold, some laid it to his start, and others to his cool, +dispassionate strategy. To some extent it was all of these things; but +more than anything else he had won as a bulldog does, by hanging on. +Often he had beaten better strategists simply by keeping up the fight +when by all the rules he was beaten. For as the comrade of long ago had +said, “it took a lot of pounding to lick Jim Weeks.” + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +MR. McNALLY GOES TO TILLMAN CITY + +It was Monday morning, September 23d. The telephone bell on the big +mahogany desk rang twice before Jim Weeks laid down the sheet of paper +he was scrutinizing and picked up the receiver. + +“Hello! Oh, that you, Fox? Yes--Yes. Hold on! Give me that name again. +Frederick McNally. Dartmouth Building, did you say? Yes. Thank you. +Good-by.” + +The bell tinkled again and Jim swung round in his chair. + +There was another desk in the room, where sat a young man busy over a +pile of letters. He was private secretary to a man who was president +of one railroad and director in others, and his life was not easy. The +letters he was working over were with one exception addressed to the +Hon. James Weeks, Washington Building, Chicago. The exception was a pale +blue note addressed to Mr. Harvey West, and the young man had put that +at the bottom of the pile and was working down to it. + +The elder man spoke. “West,” he said, “Fox has just telephoned me that +he's found out who's been buying M. & T. stock. It's Frederick McNally; +he's in the Dartmouth Building. He isn't doing it on his own hook, but I +don't know who he is doing it for. Somebody wants that stock mighty bad. +There isn't a great deal of it lying around, though.” + +“Do you think that Thompson--” began the secretary. + +“Thompson would be glad to see me out and himself in,” said Jim Weeks, +“and he leads Wing and Powers around by the nose, but he can't swing +enough stock to hurt anything at next election. I don't believe it's +he that's buying. Thompson hasn't got sand enough for that. He'll never +fight.” + +There was a moment's pause. Jim walked over to the ticker and looked +back along the ribbon of paper. “It's quoted at 68-1/2 this morning,” he +said, “but no sales to amount to anything.” + +“You might go over and talk to Wing,” he went on. “You can find out +anything he knows if you go at it right. I don't believe there's +anything there. However, I'd like to know just what they are doing. +You'd better do it now. Send Pease in when you go out, will you?” + +Harvey slipped the blue envelope from the bottom of the pile of letters, +called the stenographer, and started out. He read the note while he was +waiting for the elevator. + +The M. & T. is a local single-track road, about two hundred miles long, +running between the cities of Manchester and Truesdale. The former is on +the main line of the Northern, and the latter on the C. & S.C., both of +which are trunk lines from Chicago to the West. The M. & T. was not +a money-making affair; it had cost a lot of money, its stock was away +down, and it trembled on the brink of insolvency until Jim Weeks took +hold of it. He put money into it, straightened out its tangled affairs, +and incidentally made some enemies in the board of directors. There +were coal mines on the line near Sawyerville, which were operated in a +desultory way, but they never amounted to much until some more of Jim +Weeks's money went into them, and then they began to pay. This made the +M. & T. important, especially to the C. & S.C. people, who immediately +tried to make arrangements with Jim for the absorption of the M. & T. by +their line. C. & S.C. had a bad name. There were many shady operations +associated with its management, and Jim decided to have as little to do +with it as possible, so the attempt apparently was abandoned. + +The stock of the M. & T. was held largely by men who lived along the +line of the road. Tillman City and St. Johns each held large blocks; +they had got a special act of legislature to allow them to subscribe +for it. These stockholders had great confidence in Jim, for under his +management their investment was beginning to pay, and they, he felt +sure, approved of his action in the C. & S.C. matter. + +Everything was going well with the road, and the stock was climbing +slowly but steadily. It was not liable to any great fluctuation, for +most of its holders regarded it as a permanent investment and it did not +change hands to any great extent. Comparatively little of it got into +the hands of speculators. + +But suddenly it began to jump. It was evident to every one who watched +it that some important deal was afoot. Jim Weeks was as much in the dark +as any one. He had watched its violent fluctuations for a week while +he vainly sought to ferret out the motive that was causing them. And on +this particular morning, though he sent his secretary, Harvey West, to +talk to Wing, he had little idea that the young fellow would get hold of +a clew. + +When the elevator stopped at the main floor, Harvey thrust the half-read +note back into his pocket. “No time for that sort of thing this +morning,” he thought. “I wonder how soon I'll be able to run down to see +her.” A moment later he was walking rapidly toward the Dartmouth. + +The men he saw and nodded to glanced round at him enviously. “Case of +luck,” growled somebody. That was true. Harvey was lucky; lucky first +and foremost in that Ethel Harvey was his mother. He got his mental +agility as well as his indomitable cheeriness from her. He was a +healthy, sane young fellow who found it easy to work hard, who could +loaf most enjoyably when loafing was in order, and who had the knack of +seeing the humorous side of a trying situation. He had always had plenty +of money, but that was not the reason he got more fun out of his four +years in college than any other man in his class. He “got down to +business” very quickly after his graduation, and now at the end of +another four years he was private secretary to Jim Weeks. That of course +wasn't luck. The fact that Jim had fallen in love with Ethel Harvey +thirty years before might account for his friendly interest in her son, +but it would not explain Harvey's position of trust. He knew that he +could not hold it a day except by continuing to be the most available +man for the place. + +It is probable that on this morning, the contents of the pale blue note +contributed largely to his cheerfulness. It was evident that Miss Porter +liked him, and Harvey liked to be liked. + +Wing's office on the sixth floor of the Dartmouth was a beautifully +furnished suite, presided over by a boy in cut-steel buttons. Wing +himself was a dapper little man, a capitalist by necessity only, for +his money had been left to him. His one ambition was to collect all +the literature in all languages on the game of chess; a game by the way +which he himself did not play. “Mr. Wing had gone out to lunch about an +hour before,” said the boy in buttons. “Would Mr. West wait?” Harvey, +who knew Mr. Wing's luncheons of old, said no, but he would call again +in the afternoon. As he walked back to the elevator his eye fell upon +another office door which bore the freshly painted legend, “Frederick +McNally, Attorney-at-law.” + +Harvey lunched at the Cafe Lyon, which is across the street from the +main entrance to the Dartmouth. The day was warm for late September, and +he selected a seat just inside the open door. From his table he could +see people hurrying in and out of the big office building. He watched +the crowd idly as he waited for his lunch, and finally his interest +shifted to the big doors, which seemed to have something human about +them, as they maliciously tried to catch the little messenger boys who +rushed between them as they swung. + +Suddenly his attention came back to the crowd, centring on a party of +four men who turned into the great entrance. Three of them he knew, and +the fact that they were together suggested startling possibilities. +They were Wing, Thompson and William C. Porter of Chicago and Truesdale, +First Vice-President of the C. & S.C. and, this was the way Harvey +thought of him, father of the Miss Katherine Porter whose name was at +the bottom of the note in the blue envelope. Thompson, a fat, flaccid +man with a colorless beard, was laboriously holding the door open for +Mr. Porter, then he preceded little Mr. Wing. The fourth man was a +stranger to Harvey. + +He was starting to follow them when the waiter came up with his order. +That made him pause, and a moment's reflection convinced him that he had +better wait. He decided that if the meeting of Porter with the two M. +& T. directors were not accidental they would be likely to be in +consultation for some time, and he would gain more by inquiring for +Mr. Wing at the expiration of a half hour than by doing it now. So +he lunched at leisure and then went back to the sixth floor of the +Dartmouth. + +He was met by a rebuff from Buttons. “No, Mr. Wing had not come back +yet,” and again “Would Mr. West wait?” Harvey could think of nothing +better to do, so he sat down to think the matter out. He was puzzled, +for the three men were in the building, he felt sure. Then it came to +him. “Jove,” he murmured, “McNally! McNally was that fourth man.” He sat +back in his chair and tried to decide what to do. + +Meanwhile four men sat about the square polished table in Mr. McNally's +new office and anxiously discussed ways and means. The scrappy memoranda +and what appeared to be problems in addition and subtraction littered +about, made it appear that some ground had been pretty thoroughly gone +over. There was a momentary lull in the conversation, and the silence +was broken only by the tapping of Mr. Wing's pencil as he balanced it +between his fingers and let the point rebound on the top of the table. +There really seemed to be nothing to say. The alliance between C. & S.C. +and Thompson's faction of the M. & T. directors had been arranged some +days before. They had met to-day to see how they stood. McNally told +what he had done, and it was not so much as they had hoped he would be +able to do. The combination was not yet strong enough to take the field. +For the past twenty minutes Thompson had been leaning over the table +making suggestions in his thick voice, and McNally had sat back and +quietly annihilated them by demonstrating their impracticability, or by +stating that they had been unsuccessfully tried. + +Beyond asking one or two incisive questions of McNally, Porter had said +nothing, but had stared straight out of the window. For the past ten +minutes he had been waiting for Thompson to run down. It was he who +broke the silence. + +“We're stuck fast”--he was speaking very slowly--“unless we can get +control of that Tillman City stock.” + +McNally shook his head doubtfully. “I'm afraid it's no good,” he said. +“Look what we've offered them already. They think the stock is going to +go on booming clear up to the sky, and they won't sell. We couldn't get +it at par.” + +Porter's chair shot back suddenly. He walked over to the empty +fireplace, the other men watching him curiously. He spread his hands +behind him mechanically as if to warm them. Then he said:-- + +“I think we could get it if we were to offer par.” + +“Offer par!” thundered Thompson. “We could get Jim Weeks's holdings by +paying par.” + +Porter smiled indulgently. “I didn't say we'd _pay_ par for anything. +But I think if Mr. McNally were to sign a contract to pay par the day +after the M. and T. election, that he could vote the stock on election +day.” + +McNally's plump hand came down softly on the table. “Good!” he said +under his breath. + +But Mr. Thompson failed to understand. “But the contract?” he said. + +“Such a contract would be a little less valuable than that waste paper,” + Porter replied politely, indicating the crumpled sheets on the table. +Then he turned to McNally and asked, “How many men will it take to swing +it?” + +“Three, if we get the right ones. Yes, I know the men we want. I can +get them all right,” he added, in response to the unspoken question. “It +will need a little--oil, though, for the wheels.” + +“I suppose so,” said Porter, dryly. “I think you'd better get at it +right away. It's two o'clock now. The two-thirty express will get you to +Manchester so that you can reach Tillman about seven-thirty. It doesn't +pay to waste any time when you're trying to get ahead of Jim Weeks. He +moves quick. Have you got money enough?” + +McNally nodded. + +Thompson had come to the surface again. He was breathing thickly, and +his high, bald forehead was damp with perspiration. “That's bribery,” he +said, “and it's--dangerous.” + +“I'm afraid that can't be helped, Mr. Thompson,” said Porter. “It's neck +or nothing. We've got to have that Tillman City stock.” + +There were but four people in the room when he began speaking. There +were five when he finished, for Harvey West had grown tired of waiting. +He bowed politely. + +“Good afternoon, gentlemen. Ah! Mr. Porter. How do you do? I beg your +pardon for intruding.” + +Porter recovered first. “No intrusion, Mr. West. We had just finished +our business.” + +McNally took the cue quickly. + +“Mr. West?” he said interrogatively. + +Harvey bowed. + +“I will be at your service in a moment. Excuse me.” + +Wing and Thompson had already taken the hint, and were moving toward the +door. Porter hung back, conversing in low tones with McNally. Then he +bowed to West and followed the others. McNally gathered up the papers on +the table, folded them, and put them in his pocket. + +“Please sit down, Mr. West. What can I do for you? Wait a moment, +though. Won't you smoke?” He held out his cigar case to Harvey, who +took one gladly. Lighting it would give him a moment more to think, and +thinking was necessary, for he didn't know what McNally could do for +him. But McNally seemed to be doing his best to help him out. + +“Don't you think it very warm here?” he said, as Harvey struck a match. +“Something cool to drink would go pretty well. If you'll excuse me for a +moment more I'll go down and see about getting it,” and without waiting +for a reply, McNally put on his silk hat and stepped out into the +corridor. + +“He certainly seems friendly,” thought Harvey, as the footfalls +diminished along the floor, and then he puzzled over what he should +say when McNally came back. At last he smiled. “That's it,” he said +to himself, “I'll try to rent him that vacant suite in our office +building.” + +When West had made up his mind that the party of four were not to meet +in Wing's office, he had decided to see if they were in McNally's. He +could not ask for Wing, of course, so he asked for McNally and trusted +to the spur of the moment for a pretext for his call. Now that McNally's +absence had enabled him to think of one he took a long breath of +satisfaction. He had accomplished what he had set out to accomplish, and +contrary to Jim Weeks's expressed expectation. There was no doubt that +it was a combination of the C. & S.C. and Thompson's gang that was +booming the M. & T. Moreover there was no doubt as to their next move. +“But it won't work,” he thought. “Jim owns about half of Tillman City, +and anyway they'll never sell when our stock is jumping up the way it +is.” + +And having settled this important matter he switched his train of +thought off on another track. It reached Truesdale in a very short time, +but it had nothing to do with M. & T., or with Mr. McNally. He took the +note out of his pocket and read it through twice, and then smoked over +it comfortably for some time before he began vaguely to wonder why Mr. +McNally didn't come back. Five minutes later he glanced at his cigar +ash. It was an inch and a half long. “That means twenty minutes,” he +said thoughtfully, and then it dawned on him that things had happened +which were not down on the schedule. + +He walked quickly to the telephone, and a moment later Pease was talking +to him. + +“No,” said the stenographer; “Mr. Weeks went out to lunch about an hour +ago. He said he wouldn't be back to the office this afternoon.” + +There had been no words wasted in the two minutes' conversation between +Porter and McNally after Harvey's abrupt entrance, and as a result of +it, while the young secretary waited and thought over the good stroke of +work he had done for Jim Weeks and of another good stroke he might some +day do for himself, Mr. Frederick McNally took the two-thirty express +for Manchester and Tillman City. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +POLITICS AND OTHER THINGS + +Harvey West was a young man. Perhaps had he been older, had his wisdom +been salted with experience, he would not have put two and two together +without realizing that the sum was four; but then, it is the difference +between twenty-six and fifty that makes railroads a possibility. He +walked slowly to the elevator and descended to the street. At the +corner he paused and looked about, turning over in his mind the singular +disappearance of Mr. McNally. “He can't do anything with Tillman's +stock,” thought Harvey. “They're solid for us.” But Harvey in his +brief business life had not fathomed the devious ways of the chronic +capitalist. He knew that commercial honor was honeycombed with corrupt +financiering, but to him the corrupt side was more or less vague, and +never having soiled his fingers he failed to realize the nearness of the +mud. Harvey had yet to learn that in dealing with a municipality or with +a legislature, the law of success has but two prime factors, money and +speed. + +He walked slowly over Madison Street and turned into State. Weeks was +not in the office, and anyway he wished to clear his mind, if possible, +before he talked with him; meanwhile sauntering up the east side of +State Street with an eye for the shopping throng. People interested +Harvey. He was fond of noting types, and of watching the sandwich-men, +beggars, and shoe-string venders. Often at noon he would walk from +Randolph Street to Harrison, observing the shifting character of +Chicago's great thoroughfare. To Harvey it seemed like a river, starting +clear but gradually roiled by the smaller streams that poured in, each +a little muddier than the one next north, until it was clogged and +stagnant with the scum of the city. But to-day he was going north. The +sidewalk was crowded with eager girls and jaded women, keen on the scent +of bargains. These amused Harvey, and he smiled as he crossed Washington +Street. A moment later the smile brightened. Miss Porter stood on the +corner. + +“Surprised to see me?” she laughed. “Father came up unexpectedly on +business, and I tagged along to do some shopping. Are you in a hurry? I +suppose so. You men never lose a chance to awe us with the value of your +time.” + +“No,” Harvey replied, “I'm not at all in a hurry.” + +“Good, then you can help me. I am buying a gown.” + +They went into Field's, and for nearly an hour Harvey “helped.” It did +not take him long to realize that nowhere is a strong man more helpless +than in a department store. He went through yards of samples, fingered +dozens of fabrics; he discussed and suggested, all with a critical air +that amused Miss Porter. She tried at first to take him seriously, but +finally gave up, leaned against the counter and laughed. + +“Suppose we go up to the waiting room,” she said. “You can talk, +anyway.” + +With a smile Harvey assented, and they seated themselves near the +railing, where they could look down on the human kaleidoscope below. + +“By the way,” said Harvey, after they had chatted for some time, “this +morning's _Tribune_ has a good joke on one of your Truesdale neighbors. +Did you see it?” + +“No. Tell me about it.” + +“Why, it seems that he--it was Judge Black--is up at Waupaca. He went +there in a hurry from Lake Geneva to get away from some cases that were +following him and spoiling the vacation he's been trying to get since +July. He moved so quickly that his trunk left him and went up to +Minnesota or somewhere. Well, the Judge was asked to speak at an +entertainment the first night at the hotel. An hour or so before the +time set for the speech he fell into the lake and ruined his only suit +of clothes. There wasn't a man there anywhere near his size, so he +appeared before the guests of the Grand View Hotel in the 'bus man's +overalls.” + +Katherine laughed heartily. + +“Father will enjoy that,” she said. “He loves to laugh at Judge Black.” + And she added, “I wonder where father is.” + +“Do you return to Truesdale to-day?” Harvey asked. + +“No. Not until day after to-morrow. We go to the South Side to dinner, +father and I. Father told me to meet him here at half-past three.” + +Harvey drew out his watch. + +“It is after four now.” + +“Yes, I'm a little worried. Father is usually very prompt. He had to see +some men about the railroad, but he said it wouldn't take him long. I'm +afraid something has happened.” + +So was Harvey. The mention of Mr. Porter brought back to him certain +peculiar facts, and for a moment he thought fast. Evidently something +was happening. In case there was a chance of Tillman City wavering, +Jim Weeks should know of Porter's activity and at once. Harvey rose +abruptly. + +“Excuse me. I find I have forgotten some work at the office.” + +“Must you go? I am sorry.” She rose and extended her hand. “I shan't +be at home either night or I'd ask you to come and see me. But you are +coming down to Truesdale soon, remember.” + +“Yes,” said Harvey. “Good-by.” + +He walked rapidly to the Washington Building. Jim had left no word, and +Harvey called up the Ashland Avenue residence, but could learn nothing. +The Northern Station master returned a similar report: Mr. Weeks had not +been seen. Harvey sat down and rested his elbows on the desk. Already it +might be too late. He called to mind Jim's business arrangements, in the +hope of striking a clew by chance. He was interrupted by a few callers, +whom he disposed of with a rush; and he was closing his desk with a +vague idea of hunting Jim in person when he was called to the 'phone. It +was the station master. + +“I was mistaken, Mr. West,” he said. “Fourteen has just got in from +Manchester, and he says he took Mr. Weeks out at noon.” + +Harvey rang off and called up the M. & T. terminal station at +Manchester. + +“Hello. This is Chicago. Is Mr. Weeks there?” + +“Well--say, hello! Hold on, central!--Will you call him to the 'phone, +please?” + +“Why not?” + +“Where? At the shops?” + +“Sorry, but I guess you'll have to interrupt him. Important business.” + +“Can't help it if the whole road's blocked. Get him as quick as you can +and call us up. Good-by.” + +Harvey waited ten minutes, twenty, thirty, thirty-five--then the bell +rang. + +“Hello!” + +“Yes.” + +“Not there?” + +“Wait a minute. You say he took the 4.30?” + +“All right. Good-by.” + +Harvey turned back to his desk with a scowl. He passed the next hour +clearing up what was left of the day's work; then he went out to dinner, +and at 6.45 met Jim Weeks at the Northern Station. + +“Hello,” said the magnate, “what's up?” + +“Porter is,” replied Harvey. “I cornered him and McNally with Thompson +and Wing, and I think McNally's gone after the Tillman stock.” + +“I guess not,” Jim smiled indulgently. “They can't touch it. Tell me +what you know.” + +Harvey related his experience, and as one detail followed another Jim's +eyebrows came together. He took out his watch and looked at it, then his +eye swept the broad row of trains in the gloomy, barnlike station. +The hands on the three-sided clock pointed to seven, and the Northern +Vestibule Limited began to roll out on its run to Manchester and the +West. Suddenly Jim broke in:-- + +“I'm going to Tillman. Back to-morrow.” + +He ran down the platform and swung himself, puffing, upon the rear steps +of the receding train. Harvey stared a moment, then slowly walked out to +the elevated. He had not yet learned to follow the rapid working of Jim +Weeks's mind. + +In the meantime Mr. Porter was nervous. Being unsuccessful in his search +for Weeks, and seeing the possibility of failure before him, he greeted +the hour of five with a frown; but he realized that there was nothing to +be done. McNally was on the field and must fight it out alone. It was +a quarter after five when he stepped from the elevator at Field's, and +confronted a very reproachful young woman. + +“Sorry, dear, but I couldn't get away any sooner.” + +“What was it, dad? That old railroad?” + +“You wouldn't understand it if I told you.” + +Katherine frowned prettily. + +“That's what you always say. Tell me about it.” + +“Well, it was very important that I should see a man before he saw +another one.” + +“Did you see him?” + +“No, I couldn't find him.” + +“Does it mean a loss to you, dad?” + +“I hope not, dear. But we must get started.” + +“I thought you never would come. It was lucky that I had company part of +the time.” + +“That's good. Who was it?” + +“Mr. West.” + +“Mr. West?--Not Weeks's man--not--” + +Katherine nodded. Her father looked at her puzzled; then his brow +slightly relaxed, and he smiled. “By Jove!” he said softly. Katherine +was watching him in some surprise. + +“Katherine, you are a brick. You shall have the new cart. Yes, sir. I'll +order it to-morrow.” + +“What have I done?” + +“You've saved the day, my dear.” Suddenly he frowned again. “Hold on; +when did you see him?” + +“I met him about three. I guess he was here an hour or more.” + +“Couldn't be better! But he must be an awful fool.” + +Katherine bit her lip. + +“Why?” she asked quietly. + +“Don't you see? If he had seen Weeks early enough they might have upset +me. He must be an awful fool.” + +Katherine followed him to the elevator with a peculiar expression. She +wondered why her father's remark annoyed her. + + + +Before leaving Manchester Mr. McNally wired to the Tillman City Finance +Committee an invitation to dine at the Hotel Tremain at 7.45 P.M. During +the journey he matured his plan of campaign. + +This was not likely to be more than mildly exciting, for twenty years +of political and financial juggling had fitted Mr. McNally for delicate +work. In his connection with various corporations he had learned the art +of subduing insubordinate legislatures without friction, if not without +expense, and naturally the present task offered few difficulties. That +was why, after an hour or so of thought, he straightened up in his seat, +bought a paper, and read it with interest, from the foreign news to the +foot-ball prospects. Mr. McNally's tastes were cosmopolitan, and now +that his method was determined he dismissed M. & T. stock from his mind. +He knew Tillman City, and more to the point, he knew Michael Blaney, +Chairman of the Council Finance Committee. Finesse would not be needed, +subtlety would be lost, with Blaney, and so Mr. McNally was prepared to +talk bluntly. And on occasion Mr. McNally could be terseness itself. + +On his arrival he took a cab for the hotel. The Committee were on hand +to meet him, and Blaney made him acquainted with the others. + +Michael Blaney was a man of the people. He was tall and angular, hands +and face seamed and leathery from the work of earlier days, eyes small +and keen, and a scraggy mustache, that petered out at the ends. He had +risen by slow but sure stages from a struggling contractor with no pull, +to be the absolute monarch of six wards; and as the other seven wards +were divided between the pro- and anti-pavers, Blaney held the municipal +reins. He still derived an income from city contracts, but his name did +not appear on the bids. + +After dinner Mr. McNally led the way to his room, and in a few words +announced that he had come for the M. & T. stock. Blaney tipped back in +his chair and shook his head. + +“Can't do it, Mr. McNally. It ain't for sale.” + +“So I heard,” said McNally, quietly, “but I want it.” + +“You see it's like this. When they were building the line, we took the +stock on a special act--” + +“I understand all that,” McNally interrupted. “That can be fixed.” + +Williams, one of the other two, leaned over the table. + +“We ain't fools enough to go up against Jim Weeks,” he said. + +“Don't worry about Weeks,” replied McNally, “I can take care of him.” + +“Who are you buying for?” asked Blaney. + +McNally looked thoughtfully at the three men, then said quietly:-- + +“I am buying for C. & S.C. Jim Weeks is all right, but he can't hold out +against us.” + +“Well, I tell you, Mr. McNally, we can't sell.” + +“Why not?” + +“Outside of the original terms--and they sew us up--we never could get +it through the Council.” + +McNally folded his hands on the table and looked at Blaney with +twinkling eyes. + +“That's all rot, Blaney.” + +“No, it ain't. The boys are right with Weeks.” + +“See here, Blaney. You just stop and ask yourself what Weeks has done +for you. He's sunk a lot of your money and a lot of St. Johns's money, +to say nothing of Chicago, in a road that never has paid and never will +pay. Why, man, the stock would be at forty now if we hadn't pushed it +up. I tell you Jim Weeks is licked. The only way for you to get your +money back is to vote in men who can make it go. We've got the money, +and we've got the men. It will be a good thing for Tillman City, and a +good thing”--he paused, and looked meaningly at the three faces before +him--“a mighty good thing for you boys.” + +“We couldn't put it through in time for the election anyhow.” + +“The eighth? That's two weeks.” + +“I know it, but we'd have to work the opposition.” + +“Talk business, Blaney. I'll make it worth your while.” + +“What'll you give?” + +“For the stock?” + +“Well--yes, for the stock.” + +“I'll give you par.” + +“Um--when?” + +“That depends on you. However, if you really want time, you can have it. +I suppose you boys vote the stock?” + +All three nodded. + +“Well, you vote for our men, and I'll sign an agreement to pay cash at +par after the meeting.” + +“Why not now?” + +“I wouldn't have any hold on you. Anyhow, I won't pay till I get the +stock, and you seem to want time.” + +Blaney glanced at the other two. They were watching McNally closely, and +Williams was fumbling his watch chain. Blaney's eyes met McNally's. + +“What'll you do for us?” he asked. “It'll take careful work.” + +For answer McNally rose and went to the bed, where his bag lay open. He +rummaged a moment, then returned with a pack of cards. + +“Forgot my chips,” he said, seating himself. “Close up, boys.” + +He dealt the cards with deft hands. Blaney started to take his up, then +paused with his hand over them. + +“What's the ante?” he asked. + +“Oh, five hundred?” McNally replied. + +Blaney pushed the cards back. + +“No,” he said, “not enough.” + +Williams seconded his chief with a shake of the head. + +“Well, name it yourself.” + +“A thousand.” + +McNally pursed his lips, then drew out a wallet, and counted out three +thousand dollars in large bills, which he laid in the centre of the +table. + +“There's four playing,” suggested Blaney. + +McNally scowled. + +“Don't be a hog, Blaney.” He took up his hand, then laid it down and +rose, adding,-- + +“Can't do anything with that hand.” + +The three Committeemen dropped their cards and each pocketed a third of +the money. Mr. McNally fished a pad from his grip and wrote the contract +binding himself to pay for the stock after the election on condition +that it should be voted at his dictation. He signed it, and tossed it +across the table. + +“All right, Mr. McNally,” said Blaney, holding out his hand. “I guess we +can see you through. Good night.” + +“Good night, Blaney; good night, boys.” McNally shook hands cordially +with each. “We'll have a good road here yet.” + +When their footfalls died away in the hall, Mr. McNally turned to the +table, gathered the cards, and replaced them in his bag. The room +was close with cigar smoke, and he threw open the windows. With the +sensation of removing something offensive, he washed his hands. He stood +for a few moments looking out the window at the quiet city, then he +sauntered downstairs and into the deserted parlor, seating himself at +the piano. His plump hands wandered over the keys with surprisingly +delicate touch. For a short time he improvised. Then as the night quiet +stole into his thoughts, he drifted into Rubinstein's Melody in F, +playing it dreamily. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +JIM WEEKS CLOSES IN + +It was midnight when Jim Weeks reached Tillman City. The next morning +at breakfast he recognized Mr. McNally, and though he nodded pleasantly, +his thoughts were not the most amicable. He knew that McNally meant +mischief, and he also knew that McNally's mischief could be accomplished +only through one man, Michael Blaney. Heretofore Blaney had not troubled +Jim. Jim's power and his hold on Tillman City affairs had combined to +inspire the lesser dictator with awe, and in order to obtain concessions +it had been necessary only to ask for them. Jim never dealt direct with +Blaney. The councilman to whom he intrusted his measures was +Bridge, leader of the pro-pavers. Jim had won him by generosity in +transportation of paving supplies. But when Jim left the hotel that +morning he wasted no time on minority leaders. Bridge was useful to +prepare and introduce ordinances, but was not of the caliber for big +deals, so Jim ordered a carriage and drove direct to Blaney's house. +Although the hour was early, the politician was not at home. His wife, +a frail little woman, came to the door and extended a flexible speaking +trumpet that hung about her shoulders. + +“No,” she said in reply to Jim's question, “he's down on the artesian +road watching a job. He won't be back till noon.” + +The road in question leads from the city to the artesian well a few +miles away. Jim turned his horses and went back through the town and out +toward the country. He found Blaney just inside the city limits, sitting +on a curb and overseeing two bosses and a gang of laborers, who were +tearing up the macadam with the destructive enthusiasm of the hired +sewer digger. + +“How are you, Blaney?” called Jim, pulling up. + +Blaney nodded sourly. He was a man of bullying rather than of tactful +propensities and he could not conceal his distaste for an interview with +Jim Weeks at this particular moment. To tell the truth, he had begun to +fear the results of the agreement with McNally which rested in his +coat pocket. Weeks was a hard man to fight, and wasted no words on +disloyalty. However, Blaney knew that dissimulation would profit him +nothing, for to keep the changed vote a secret would be impossible; so +he squared himself for a row. Jim tied his horses to a sapling and sat +beside him, remarking,-- + +“I want to have a talk with you.” + +“Haven't got much time,” replied Blaney, making a show of looking at his +watch. + +Jim smiled meaningly. + +“You've got all the time I need. I want to know what you're up to with +our stock.” + +Blaney gazed at the laborers. + +“Here!” he called to a lazy Irishman, “get back there where you belong!” + +“Come now, Blaney, talk business.” + +“What do you want to know about that stock?” + +“How are you going to vote it?” + +“I guess I can vote it.” + +“Are you going to stick to me?” + +“I don't know whether I am or not. I'll do what the Council directs.” + +Jim gave him a contemptuous glance. + +“Don't be a fool, Blaney.” + +“See here,” said Blaney, rising; “what are _you_ trying to do?” + +Jim rose too. + +“You've answered my question,” he replied. “You think you can throw me +out.” + +“I ain't throwing anybody out,” muttered Blaney. He walked away and +stood looking at the trench in the street which the men had sunk +shoulder deep. Jim followed. + +“I'm not through yet, Blaney.” + +“I haven't got time to talk with you,” blustered the contractor. +Jim stood a moment looking him over. Blaney's eyes were fixed on the +Irishman. + +“How much did he give you?” asked Jim, quietly. + +Blaney whirled around. + +“Look out,” he said. “I don't know what you're talking about, but a +man can't say that to me.” His fists were clenched. Jim spoke without +emotion. + +“Drop it,” he said. “I'm not here for my health. I knew all that some +hours ago. If I couldn't work it any better than you've done, I'd quit. +Now what I want you to do, Blaney--” + +“See here, you've said enough!” Blaney was excited. “You can't come +around here and bulldoze me. We've bought that stock and we'll vote it +as we like, damn it; and you can go to hell!” + +Jim looked at him thoughtfully; then he went to his buggy and drove back +to the hotel. He saw that Blaney was frightened, but he evidently was +too thoroughly bought up to be easily shaken. With what some men called +his “gameness” Jim dropped Blaney from his mind for the moment, and +began to plan for a desperate counter move. Before he reached the hotel +the move was decided upon, and Jim was placid. + +The next man to see was Bridge. Jim paused at the hotel long enough to +send a message to the station agent to have a special ready in fifteen +minutes; then he went to the office of his lieutenant. + +Bridge was an architect with a yearning for politics. For several years +he had tried to keep both irons in the fire, and as a result was not +over-successful in either. But he was a shrewd, silent man, and could be +trusted. Jim found him designing a stable. + +“Sit down, Mr. Weeks. What brings you to Tillman?” + +“Bad business,” responded Jim, shortly. “Blaney's sold out to the C. & +S.C.” + +Mr. Bridge sat upon his table and said nothing. When taken by surprise +Mr. Bridge usually said nothing; that is why he had risen to the +leadership of a faction. + +“I don't know just what's happened,” Jim went on, “but there's trouble +ahead.” + +“Does Blaney say he's going to vote against you?” + +“No,” said Jim, “but he gave himself away.” + +“Can you block him?” + +Jim passed over the question. + +“I wish you'd watch him, Bridge. There's a deal on, and Frederick +McNally is the other party. He's for C. & S.C. of course. Do you know +him?” + +Bridge shook his head. + +“Well, never mind. I'll watch him. But you worry Blaney. He's a little +rattled now,--I reckon McNally's soaked him,--and if you're careful you +ought to find out something. I want to know just how they've fixed it.” + +Bridge nodded. + +“I'll keep an eye on him.” + +“Well,”--Jim rose,--“I've got a train to catch. Good-by.” + +He drove rapidly to the station; the agent hurried toward him as he +pulled up at the platform. + +“I only got your message this minute, Mr. Weeks,” he said; “there isn't +a car in the yards.” + +“What's that?” Jim looked at his watch. “Got an engine?” + +“Only the switch engine.” + +“I'll take that.” + +The agent hesitated. + +“You wouldn't get through before next week,” he said. “There's a couple +of passenger engines in the roundhouse, but they ain't fired.” + +The telegraph operator leaned out of the window and broke into the +conversation. + +“Murphy's firing the big eleven for sixteen from Truesdale. You might +take that.” + +“Got a good man to run it?” asked Jim. + +“Jawn Donohue's on the switch engine,” replied the operator. “He knows +the road.” + +Jim dimly remembered the name Donohue. Somewhat more than a year before +his manager had reduced a man of that name for crippling an engine on a +flying switch. + +“He's the best man you could get, Mr. Weeks,” said the agent, and +turning, he ran down the platform toward the freight house. Jim called +after him:-- + +“He's got to connect at Manchester with the twelve o'clock for Chicago.” + +Jawn's dumpy little engine was blowing off on a siding. Jawn was oiling. +He was a short man, filling out his wide overalls with an in-'em-to-stay +appearance. His beard was brushy, his eyes were lost in a gray tangle of +brows and lashes, and he chewed the stem of a cob pipe. + +“Jawn,” said the agent, excitedly, “get eleven up to the platform +quick!” + +Jawn turned around, lowered the oil-can, and looked at the nervous agent +with impassive eyes. + +“Why?” he said slowly. + +“You've got to connect with Manchester at twelve o'clock.” + +Jawn replaced his pipe. + +“Wait till I kick them empties in on the house track. Who's it for?” + +“Don't stop for that! It's the President!” + +Jawn grunted, and walked deliberately across the tracks and into the +roundhouse, followed by his fireman. Murphy, the hostler, was hovering +about the big throbbing locomotive, putting a final polish on the +oil-cups and piston-rods. Jawn, without a word, climbed into the cab, +and out over the tender, where he lifted the tank lid and peered down at +the water. + +“Never mind that,” the agent called. “You can water up at Byron.” + +Jawn slowly clambered over the coal and leaned against the doorway, +packing the tobacco firmly into his pipe with his fire-proof little +finger. + +“Young man,” he said gruffly, “I run this engine for four years without +taking water between here and Manchester, and I reckon I can do it +agin.” Then he pulled her slowly out of the roundhouse. + +In the meantime, the operator had sent this message to the train +despatcher at Manchester:-- + + Want right of way over everything. Pres. coming on light engine. + +To which the despatcher replied:-- + + Run to Manchester extra regardless of all trains. + +When the engine finally rolled into the station Jim was pacing up and +down; he was as nearly impatient as Jim Weeks could be. + +“You'll have to move faster than that,” he said shortly, swinging +himself up the steps. + +Jawn glanced at him without reply, then looked at his watch. It was +twenty minutes after ten. He laid his hand upon the throttle and pulled. +There was a gasp of steam, a whirring and slipping of the drive wheels, +and the engine plunged forward. Jawn fingered the lever with a lover's +caress. He knew old “eleven,” every foot of her, every tube, bolt, and +strap. As they cleared the yards, he threw her wider and wider open +until she was lunging and lurching madly. The cinders beat a tattoo +upon the cab, and Jim Weeks crowded up into the corner. The fireman, +a strapping young fellow, threw in great shovels of coal with the +regularity of a machine, pausing only to wipe his forehead with the back +of his hand as the heat grew intense. When he opened the furnace door, +Jim could see the glowing bed lift and stir with the jolt of the engine. + +Old Jawn, perched upon his high seat, never shifted his eyes from the +track ahead. His face wore the usual scowl, but betrayed no emotion. +Perhaps his teeth gripped the pipe-stem harder than usual, but then, +it was a pregnant hour for Jawn. The feel of the old pet under his hand +made his heart jump, and brought the hope that a successful run might +lead him back to his own. Jawn knew that he deserved something better +than a switch engine in the division yards, he knew that he was the best +engineer on the road, but he had steeled himself against hope. As they +whirled past the mile-posts his emotion grew. He felt that the President +was watching him closely, and he coaxed the steel thing into terrific +speed. The cab grew hotter and hotter. Jim loosened his grip on the seat +long enough to unbutton his collar and to twist his handkerchief around +his neck. The fireman was dripping, but Jawn sat immovable as marble. +They whirled past little stations with a sudden roar. At Brushingham a +passenger train lay on the siding. There was a mottled flash of yellow, +then they were by, and for an instant Jawn smiled. He hadn't passed Jack +Martin like that for years. + +Then they struck the hills. Up with a snort, over with a groan, and +down with a rumble and slide, they flew. Here Jawn's eyes shifted to +the water gauge. Jim locked one arm around the window post, and sat with +eyes fixed on his watch. The minute hand crept around to eleven, passed +it, and on to five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five. At thirty-five +clusters of cottages began to shoot by. Jawn's arm began to +straighten--the roar diminished a trifle. Thirty-seven they passed rows +of coal-laden flat cars; thirty-nine, they slackened through a tangle +of tracks; forty-one, the big engine rolled under the train shed and +stopped in a cloud of steam. + +Jim stepped down and stretched himself. The fireman had staggered back +into the tender, and lay in a heap, fanning himself with his cap. Jawn +took a final glance at the water gauge, then he swung around and removed +his cold pipe. + +“Mr. Weeks,” he said gruffly, “I brung ye a hundred and three mile in +eighty-one minutes. There ain't another man on the line could 'a' done +it. I reckon that's why there's nothing for me but a switch engine.” + Without waiting for a reply he seized an oil-can and swung out of the +cab. Jim followed in silence, and hurried away with a grim smile. + +At two-thirty Jim was in his Chicago office. For some time he was +closeted with Myers, treasurer of the road, then he closed his desk and +went out. He spent an hour with Spencer, a capitalist and an M. & T. +director. From four to six he was locked in his office, going through +his various collateral securities. At six he locked his office and went +home with a feeling of relief. The battle was on, and Jim was ready. +There would be a meeting at his house that evening between Spencer, +Myers, and himself; not a long meeting, but one productive of results. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +TUESDAY EVENING + +Harvey West liked to be comfortable. His rooms were in a quiet apartment +house on the West Side, within easy reach of the Metropolitan Elevated, +and not far from the big house where Jim Weeks held bachelor sway. +Harvey was not a musician, but a good piano stood in his sitting room. +He had accumulated a few etchings and two bronzes; and on the centre +table were piled the latest books. Harvey read these about as he +listened to Grand Opera--he recognized that a man should keep in touch +with such things. In a vague way he enjoyed them, but he was too honest +to cultivate the glib generalities that give so many men a rating +as connoisseurs of art, music, and literature. Harvey liked action. +Business appealed to him, anything with motion and excitement; then, +after the fever of the day, he was drawn to a few friends and a good +cigar. But back behind his straightforward democratic temperament there +was a dash of good blood, the sifting down of generations of gentlemen +and gentlewomen, that accounted for Harvey's inherent good taste. He +could not criticise the technique of a picture, but he never selected a +poor one. And the few books he really liked were the kind one can read +once a year with profit. + +Early on this Tuesday evening Harvey was trying to read, but his eyes +would wander and his brow contract. At intervals he would turn in his +chair and endeavor to bring his thoughts back to the book. Finally he +shut it with a bang and, walking to the window, stood looking out over +the city. It had been a hard day for Harvey. He had passed hours waiting +to learn the result of Jim's efforts to head off McNally. The news that +C. & S.C. would undoubtedly control the Tillman City stock at election +had been closely followed by the discovery of unexpected strength in +the opposition directors. People used to say of Jim that he was never so +happy as when fighting in his last ditch, but Harvey derived no pleasure +from such operations. On this occasion he was particularly troubled. He +felt that his failure to tend to business the preceding afternoon had +contributed largely to the loss of Tillman City; and, worst of all, what +a fool Miss Porter must think him. + +The boulevard below was hedged with two long rows of gas-lamps which +converged far away to the south. Sounds of the street floated up to +him--the clatter of hoofs on the asphalt, disjointed conversations +from wheelmen, juvenile calls and whistles. Harvey looked down at the +strolling crowds on the sidewalk, and felt lonely. He turned away from +the window, and took a cigar from the hospitable box on the mantel. Near +the box was a kodak picture of Miss Porter which he had taken some time +before. He held the picture to the light, and gazed at it earnestly. +“You had a fine laugh over me yesterday, didn't you, when your father +told you all about it?” + +Harvey's big sitting room was popular. His friends had the comfortable +habit of dropping in at almost any hour of the day or night, sure of +a hearty welcome. But to-night the thought of visitors caused him to +replace the picture suddenly, seize his hat and stick, and start out +for--somewhere. At first he entertained a dim notion of going to Lincoln +Park, so he took the elevated down town, and started north on the Clark +Street cable. But as the car jolted along, he remembered that the band +did not play Tuesday evenings. He might take in the electric fountain, +but in the crowd you couldn't go about and look at people without being +in other people's way. Harvey was fond of the great public, but he liked +to hold himself in the background. He rode past the Park under the long +row of elms, gazing absently at the thronging walk where the middle +strata of North Side humanity take their evening promenade. Passing +the Park, he decided to go on to the Bismarck, where he could be among +people and yet remain alone. + +A few minutes before eight he walked between the brown dragons which +guard the entrance, and crossed the raised pavilion between the street +and the garden. At the head of the stairs he paused a moment, then he +turned aside and seated himself at a table near by, where he could lean +against the railing and overlook the crowd below. + +It was still somewhat early, and the long rows of white tables stood +vacant. By daylight the trees in a summer garden wear a homesick look, +but to-night the festooned incandescent lamps spread a soft yellow light +through the foliage, already thinned, though the night was warm, by +the touch of September; while high up on their white poles the big +arcs threw down a weird blue glare, casting a confusion of half-opaque +shadows upon the gravelled earth. Far to the front was the stage with +its half dome; the double-bass was tuning his instrument, a few others +were sorting music or running over difficult passages. + +By this time the crowd was pouring in and spreading among the tables. +Harvey leaned back and watched the almost unbroken line that moved from +the gate to the steps. There were a great many family groups, with here +and there a chaperoned party from the suburbs. A sound of scraping +and squealing and grunting from the stage announced the orchestral +preliminaries. There was a scattering fusillade of applause as the tall +conductor appeared. Looking through the trees, Harvey could see him +rap his stand and raise both arms. The concert was on. Harvey's glance +shifted back to the stairway, and he started. On the bottom step, +looking about for a vacant table, was William C. Porter. Behind him, +standing, with head thrown back, was Miss Katherine Porter. For a moment +she looked at the shifting scene before her. Harvey noted with hungry +eyes the poise of her figure. Then she turned deliberately, and bowed to +Harvey with a bright smile. + +A little later, as Harvey sat alone listening to the music, Mr. Porter +appeared, picking his way toward the centre aisle. Harvey watched him +idly. He finally reached the stairway, and came straight to Harvey's +table. + +“Good evening, Mr. West,” he said, holding out his hand. “Won't you join +us? We shall be here for an hour, anyway.” + +Harvey rose, and looked across the diagonal line of tables. Miss Porter +was leaning forward with a smile. Harvey's mind had been made up, but he +changed it and followed Mr. Porter. + +Katherine received him brightly and immediately put him at ease. For the +time he forgot that Mr. Porter and he were nominal enemies. Mr. Porter +talked entertainingly of the people about them, a subject which Harvey +could continue with intelligence; and he was gratified to note the +interest in the daughter's eyes as he commented on the oddities of human +character. + +They were looking at a party of Germans, who sat listening to the music +with the stolid interest of the race, when Mr. Porter rose and beckoned. +Katherine nodded to some one behind Harvey. A moment later he was +shaking hands with Mr. McNally. + +“We've been watching for you for some time,” said Mr. Porter, as McNally +took the vacant chair. + +“Have you?” McNally smiled easily. “I wish you had said that, Miss +Porter.” + +“Oh, Mr. McNally, you know I was hoping for you.” + +Harvey's eyes betrayed him, for she added in a bantering tone,-- + +“We must say such things to Mr. McNally, Mr. West; if we don't, he gets +simply unbearable.” + +McNally looked at her with an amused expression. Evidently they +understood each other. As the banter continued, Harvey began to feel +uncomfortable. He tried to listen to the orchestra, which was playing a +lively march. + +“Good, isn't it?” said Miss Porter to Harvey. + +“Splendid,” he replied. + +“Do you think so?” observed Mr. McNally. “Seems to me Bunge's a little +off to-night. Too much drum. Queer motions, hasn't he?” + +Herr Bunge's motions were queer. He was very tall and spare, with an +angular, smooth-shaven face, and with a luxuriant growth of hair that +waved and flopped in the gentle breeze. His long arms were principally +elbow, and they swayed and crooked and jerked as though he were pulling +the music down out of the air. At times when he turned to the belated +second violins, his gaunt profile would appear in silhouette against a +glare of electric light. + +“Do you know,” said McNally, fingering his programme, “Bunge ought to +stick to this kind of stuff. Last week I heard him play some of the +Queen Mab music, and it was wilful slaughter. Poor old Berlioz would +have sobbed aloud if he had heard it.” + +Harvey felt awkward. He could not follow McNally's comments, and it +humiliated him. Miss Porter was quick to observe his silence, and +endeavored to draw him into the conversation, while Mr. McNally seemed +determined to hold the reins. There was some good-natured fencing, then +Mr. Porter rose. + +“You'll excuse us, Mr. West,” he said pleasantly. “We have an engagement +for the latter part of the evening.” + +“Yes,” added his daughter, “we promised to go out to Edgewater--the +Saddle and Cycle, you know.” + +Harvey bowed and stood immovable, as father, daughter, and Mr. McNally +left the garden. She had given him a quick glance, and he wondered what +it meant. He sat down and absently broke the straws in his glass. The +orchestra had stopped, and a buzz of conversation floated into the +foliage. White-clad waiters bustled about with trays piled high. + +After another number he started for home, blue and angry. As he left +the elevated and walked down Ashland Avenue, he saw that Jim's house +was lighted up, and he crossed over. Jim and he were better friends than +their relative positions indicated. Neither had family ties, and +Jim's interest in the younger man was perhaps the nearest approach to +sentiment he had felt for years. He seldom openly showed his regard, but +Harvey was perfectly conscious of it, and he valued it highly. + +Jim was sitting alone at the table in the library. He greeted Harvey +by tipping back and waving toward a seat. The table was littered with +papers. + +“How are you?” said Jim. “We've stolen a march on you.” + +Harvey smiled, and threw himself wearily into a chair at the other end +of the table. + +“What is it?” he asked. “C. & S.C. again?” + +Jim nodded, and drawing out his cigar case, he took one and tossed the +case down to Harvey, then said:-- + +“Yes, and I think we've got 'em down. We've issued some more stock.” + He leaned on the table and spoke in a confidential tone. “And I reckon +Porter'll be doing a hornpipe when he finds it out.” + +“Who took it?” asked Harvey. + +“Spencer, Myers, and I. The books haven't been closed, you know.” + +Harvey blew out a thin cloud of smoke, and looked at it meditatively. + +“Nine thousand shares,” continued Jim, “If there's anything he can do +now, he's welcome to try.” + +“Do you think he will try?” + +“Oh, yes, he'll come at us with something or other. But he can't do a +thing.” + +There was a long silence, then Harvey said,-- + +“You didn't pay cash for the stock?” + +“Ten per cent,” Jim replied. + +Harvey fingered his cigar. Every new move of Jim's bewildered him. Jim's +imperturbability, and his eagerness for a fight where some men would +be discouraged, were qualities that Harvey was slow in acquiring. His +admiration for Jim amounted almost to reverence. Perhaps had he realized +the bitter fighting that was yet to come, if he could have foreseen the +part that he was to play with zeal and judgment, he would have been even +more bewildered, but Harvey was plucky enough; it needed only the right +circumstances to develop him. + +“If he does fight,” said Jim, breaking the silence, “if he succeeds in +landing on us, why, then, look out for war. I'll put my last cent into +M. & T. before I'll give him a chance at it.” + +“Is he likely to grab the road?” + +“Maybe he'll try. But I'll have five hundred men with guns in his way. +I'll tell you, West, I'm not going to give in. I never have yet.” + +“No,” said Harvey, thoughtfully, “I don't believe you have.” And he +added, “I saw Porter to-night.” + +“Where?” + +“Up at the Bismarck. McNally was with him.” + +“Anybody else?” + +“His daughter.” + +“Pretty girl, I hear.” + +“Yes,”--Harvey spoke slowly,--“she is. A very pretty girl. Her father +seems to be a gentleman.” + +“Oh, Porter's all right. He's doing what 'most any man in his place +would do. It's business. There's nothing personal in it.” + +“I suppose not,” Harvey replied. “It's still a little odd to me. I'm +afraid I'd want to break his head.” + +Jim laughed. + +“You'll get over that. I reckon you haven't got anything against his +daughter.” + +“Perhaps not,” said Harvey; “but that's different.” + +“Oh, is it?” + +Harvey sat for a moment without reply, then he tossed his half-smoked +cigar into the ashtray and rose. + +“Don't go, West. I shall be up for a long while.” + +“I'm tired,” Harvey replied. “I need sleep. Good night.” + +Harvey walked home slowly. Once in his room, he did not light up; +instead he drew an easy-chair to the window and stretched out where he +could feel the breeze. It had been a strange evening. He went back over +the conversation in the Bismarck. Katherine had seemed even prettier +than usual; but before every picture of her rose the calm, smiling face +of McNally--McNally with his pudgy hands and his cool blue eyes, his +ease and his well-placed comment. Harvey rested an elbow on the sill and +looked out the window. The crowds were gone now. No sound came save the +rustle of the leaves and the occasional rumble of the elevated trains. +The moon was clouded, but over the trees the stars were out, as clear +and soft as on other evenings that had not seemed so dreary. He turned +away and walked over to the mantel, where Katherine's picture leaned +against the wall. He found it without striking a light, and brought it +to the window. By the dim light from the street and the sky, he could +see her face in faint outline. + +“Well, Miss Katherine,” he said, looking into the shadowy eyes, “I guess +Jim Weeks isn't the only fighter here.” + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +JUDGE BLACK + +There are two kinds of business men: those who make their business at +once work and play, a means of acquiring wealth and a most exciting +game whose charms make all other games seem flat and unprofitable; and +another class who, though they may enjoy work, turn for recreation to +whist or philanthropy or golf. Porter belonged to the latter class. He +went into the fight against Jim Weeks simply because he hoped it would +make him richer, and it did not occur to him that he could enjoy the +action. On Wednesday morning he sat in his office wondering if he could +not get away to the Truesdale golf links for a match that afternoon. + +He looked over the ground carefully, and could see no way by which Weeks +could save himself from defeat, for the control of Tillman City gave C. +& S.C. a majority of the stock. Weeks's allies were deserting him, +so that he now had a bare majority in the Board of Directors. Anyway, +McNally would be on the ground in case Jim should try to do anything. + +“Well,” thought Porter, “I'll go. I guess it's safe enough.” He had +closed his desk when the door opened and an office boy came in with a +telegram. Porter tore it open listlessly, but his indolence vanished as +he read the first line. The message was from Manchester, and it read as +follows:-- + + M. & T. subscription book stubs show issue of nine thousand shares + new stock to Weeks, Myers, and Spencer, ten per cent paid, dated + yesterday. + + POWERS. + +When a man finds himself in an ambush, or when an utterly unexpected +attack is made upon him, he shows what he is. It was characteristic of +Porter that after the moment of dazed unrealization had passed he began +almost mechanically to plan a break for cover; he wished that he had +not gone into the fight, and berated his stupidity in not foreseeing the +move; it had not occurred to him that the subscription for the stock had +not closed long ago. After a few minutes of vain search for an avenue +of retreat, he saw that it was too late to do anything but fight it out; +Jim Weeks was not likely to let an antagonist off easily. + +He called to his secretary: “Telephone Shields to come over here, will +you, as soon as he can? And ask McNally to come too.” While he was +waiting for them he sat quite still in his big chair and thought hard, +but he could see no way of countering the blow. + +The two men he had sent for came into the office together. Porter +did not rise. With a nod of greeting he handed the yellow envelope to +McNally, who whistled softly as he caught its import, and passed it on +to Shields, an attorney for the C. & S.C., an emotionless, noncommittal +man. + +“Hm--it looks as though that beat you,” he said slowly. + +Porter lost his nerve and his temper too for a moment. He rose quickly +and took a step toward the lawyer. + +“Hell, man!” he exclaimed angrily. “We can't be beat. We've got to get +out of this some way. That's what you're here for.” Then he recovered +himself. “I beg your pardon, Shields. Sit down, and we'll talk this +business over.” + +For nearly an hour the three men sat in earnest consultation; then the +secretary was called in. + +“Find out if Judge Black is in Truesdale,” said Porter. “If he is, I +want to talk to him.” Then he turned to Shields. + +“That's our move,” he said. “We can allege fraud on the ground that +the stock was issued secretly and with the purpose of influencing the +election. Black's the man for that business.” + +“It isn't much of a case, mind you,” said Shields. “I'm afraid that +Weeks's action is not illegal, and that a court would sustain it, but +it's possible to raise a question that it will take time to decide.” + +“That's all we need,” said Porter, with a sigh of relief. “If we raise +the question, Black will do the rest.” + +It was several minutes before the secretary came back from the +telephone. + +“Well, did you get him?” asked Porter. + +“No,” said the secretary; “he isn't in Truesdale.” + +“Where is he?” + +“I couldn't find out. His stenographer wouldn't tell me.” + +“Wouldn't tell you, eh?” said Porter. “Just get Truesdale again; I'll +talk with that young man myself.” + +When he began talking his voice was mild and persuasive, and Shields and +McNally listened expectantly. As the minutes went by and he did not get +the information he wanted, it became evident that the cocksure young +man at the other end of the line was rasping through what was left of +Porter's patience as an emery wheel does through soft iron. As might be +expected, the process was accompanied with a shower of sparks. Porter's +voice rose and swelled in volume until at last he shouted, “You don't +care who I am? Why, you damned little fool--” and then he stopped, for a +sharp click told him that he was cut off, even from the central office, +and he was not angry enough to go on swearing at an unresponsive +telephone. + +For a moment he stood biting his lip in a nervous effort to control +himself, then he joined feebly in the laughter the other two men had +raised against him. A moment later he pulled out his watch, and turning +to McNally said:-- + +“Keep your eye on Weeks, will you? I'm going to Truesdale on the +eleven-thirty to find Black. Good-by.” + +Katherine was not surprised when twenty minutes later her father +appeared and told her his plans. That was the train she had expected +they would take. + +“I'm going along too,” she said. “You're going to play golf this +afternoon, aren't you?” + +“No,” replied her father, shortly, “I'm not going to play golf. I'm +going to play something else.” + +The five-hour ride to Truesdale was for the most part a silent one. +Katherine knew that her father was worried about something, and when he +was worried he never liked to talk, so she asked no questions and made +no attempt to draw him away from what troubled him. Only when they +reached Truesdale and her father was about to help her into the cart +that stood waiting she stopped long enough to kiss him and say:-- + +“Don't bother too much about it, dad. And don't plan any business for +this evening; I want you to take me out on the river.” As she turned +the cart around and started up the broad smooth street toward home she +frowned, and thought, “I wish he would tell me more about things. I +believe I could help.” + +Porter went straight to Judge Black's to continue his conversation with +the stenographer, but it needed no more than a glance to convince him of +the futility of trying to get any information from that source. + +The new stenographer was a boyish-looking person who tried to convince +one that he was much older than his appearance would indicate. He +had big feet and a high voice; he used only the bottom notes for +conversational purposes save when in unwary moments Nature would assert +herself in a hoarse falsetto. He patronized Mr. Porter. He said that the +Judge had left town the week before, and that he would probably be back +in about ten days. He would send him no messages whatever, from anybody: +those were Judge Black's orders. + +The young man seemed willing to go on talking at great length, and he +doubtless would have done so had not Porter suddenly left the room. The +Vice-President had thought of a possible clew. He walked rapidly to the +railroad ticket office and spoke to the agent. + +“Did Judge Black leave town a few days ago?” he asked. + +“Yes, sir,” answered the agent. “I don't remember just what day, but he +went up on twenty-two.” + +“Oh, he went east then. Do you remember where?” + +“His ticket read to Chicago.” + +Porter walked away thoroughly disappointed. The chance had looked like +a good one and there seemed to be no other. But he must in some way find +the Judge; he could not wait for him. The first thing he did was to call +up McNally by telephone and repeat to him what the agent had said. He +told McNally to find out at what hotel the Judge had stayed, if at any, +and to look for anything which might prove a clew to his whereabouts. +“It's a wild-goose chase, I know,” he concluded; “but then you may +manage to turn up something.” He knew that McNally would do everything +that could be done in Chicago toward finding the missing Judge, so he +went to work along other lines. + +Judge Black was a member of two fishing clubs, one at Les Chenaux +Islands, near Mackinac, and the other about forty miles north of +Minneapolis, so Porter sent long and urgent telegrams to both these +places. Then he began making long shots, working through a list of more +or less likely places, which his knowledge of Black's tastes and habits +enabled him to get together. Just before dinner a message came from +McNally:-- + + Black at Sherman House Friday. Clerk says he took three-thirty train + on Northwestern for Lake Geneva. Can run him down in morning. + +Thursday morning the two little telegraph boys at Lake Geneva and the +one at William's Bay had a busy time of it, for Porter and McNally +between them kept the wires hot; but neither hide nor hair of Judge +Alonzo Black could they discover. From ten o'clock on through an +interminable day the messages kept coming back, 'not delivered.' At +half-past four Porter telephoned his lieutenant to go to the lake and +continue the search in person. + +At seven Katherine and her father sat down to dinner. She had known all +day that something was going wrong with her father's affairs, and she +could read in his silent preoccupied manner that he had not yet been +able to see a way out of the difficulty. She knew that she could not +make him forget his troubles. Many vain attempts had taught her that, +so she waited. The long dinner wore on Porter's nerves; once he rose +suddenly and walked toward his library, but stopped short when he +reached the door and came back to the table. Then he drummed on the arm +of his chair. + +“Two days more of this,” he said, with a nervous laugh, “and that man +Black will have my life to answer for.” + +“Judge Black?” asked Katherine. “What has he done?” + +“Done? He's disappeared off the face of the earth just at this +particular moment when I've got to have him here.” + +“Why,” cried Katherine, “I know where he is. He's at the Grand View +Hotel--” she paused and leaned forward, her elbows on the table and her +hands clasped before her. “It's some place up in Wisconsin that sounds +like alpaca. Waupaca--that's it. Grand View Hotel, Waupaca, Wisconsin.” + +“Are you sure that's right?” he asked. “How do you know?” + +“Mr. West told me,” she answered. “There was such a good joke on him in +the paper. I meant to tell you about it.” + +But Porter was smiling over something else. After a moment he said:-- + +“We'd have been swamped long ago in this M. & T. business if it hadn't +been for the kind services of that wise and valuable young man, West. I +think I'll pay him a regular salary after this to keep him on the other +side in all the fights I get into. Lord, what a fool he is!” + +He left the room so abruptly that he did not see how Katherine's cheeks +reddened, nor how her lips pressed together in vexation. If he had he +would not have known the reason for it any more than Katherine did. + + + +Rainbow Lake is pretty in the daytime, but it is beautiful under the +moonlight when you can stretch out distances and imagine that the lights +at Bagley's Landing are those of a city twenty miles away, and when the +solid pine groves on Maple and Government islands loom up big and black. +The Judge was enjoying his vacation the better for its lateness. He had +bolted his supper early enough to secure his favorite chair in the best +part of the piazza: a mandolin orchestra was playing a waltz from “The +Serenade,” and playing it well, the Judge thought. He threw away +the match with which he had lighted his third cigar--to keep off the +mosquitoes, he blandly told his conscience--and leaned back in the +Morris chair, thinking how congruously comfortable it all was, now that +he had his own clothes and the 'bus man could work without soiling his +other suit. + +A clerk came out of the office, peered about in the half light for a +moment, and approached the Judge, touching him on the shoulder. + +“Judge Black,” he said, “Truesdale wants to talk to you on the 'phone.” + +Five minutes later the legal luminary came out of the telephone box. +He was swearing earnestly, but softly, out of deference to the +candy-and-cigar girl. He walked slowly across the office. + +“There's a train for Chicago at 8.30, isn't there?” he asked. + +“Yes,” said the clerk. “Do you want to take it?” + +There was another pianissimo interlude, at the end of which the clerk +was given to understand that he should order the 'bus for that train. +Then the Judge went back for his chair, but it was occupied by a little +girl who was just too old to be asked to sit somewhere else. + +As Jim Weeks had said, Thompson wouldn't fight, and Porter realized this +quite as well as Jim. The recalcitrant Vice-President played no part +in Porter's calculations except as a somewhat blundering and obstinate +tool. But on Friday morning Thompson's office boy announced Mr. Porter. +Porter stated his case clearly. It was his plan to remove Weeks and +Myers by judicial order from the Board of Directors. That would leave +the opposition a majority of the board. Then Thompson was to call a +meeting and assume control of the books. That done, the battle would be +decided, and the election a mere formality. Thompson was badly rattled, +for he hadn't a grain of sand in his composition, but in the end he +conquered his fears and agreed to play the part Porter assigned to him. + +At half-past two a disjointed-looking train panted into the Harrison +Street Station, and Judge Black climbed disconsolately out of the +smoker. There was a coating of cinders on the top of his derby hat; +there were drifts of cinders in the curl of the brim; there were streaks +of cinders along the lines where his coat wrinkled; and there was one +cinder in his left eye which gave him so leery and bibulous an aspect +that an old lady who narrowly escaped colliding with him turned and +looked after him in indignation, being half minded to go back and plead +with him to lead a better life. + +It was fifteen minutes later when the Judge reached Porter's office, but +before three o'clock he had signed an order enjoining James Weeks and +Johnson Myers from acting as directors of, or from interfering in any +way with, the affairs of the corporation known as the Manchester & +Truesdale Railroad Company, and from voting the nine thousand shares of +stock in that company which had been issued September 25th. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +BETWEEN THE LINES + +On Friday afternoon Harvey closed his desk with a feeling of relief. +There had been plenty of work for the past few days, and Harvey's +thoughts had acquired such wandering habits that his work seemed harder +than usual. He had not seen Katherine since Tuesday evening, but +another note, dated Thursday evening, was in his coat pocket. He read it +again:-- + + MY DEAR MR. WEST: As you have inferred from the postmark I am back at + Truesdale; we returned Wednesday. I have about despaired of seeing + you here, at least of your own free will, so I have decided to kidnap + you. Will you come to a coaching party Saturday afternoon--or rather + a brake party? We shall start from our house, weather permitting, at + four o'clock, and drive out to Oakwood, returning by moonlight. + Please don't let any stupid business interfere with your coming down + and having a jolly time. + + Cordially, + + KATHERINE PORTER. + +Harvey slowly folded the note and replaced it in his pocket. Then he +spoke to Jim. + +“Mr. Weeks, will you need me to-morrow?” + +Jim looked up pleasantly. Since the recent issue of M. & T. stock, Jim's +eyes had smiled almost continuously. + +“Guess not,” he replied. “Going away?” + +“Just over Sunday.” + +“You aren't going anywhere near Truesdale, are you?” + +“Why, yes.” + +Jim whirled around to his desk and rummaged through some pigeonholes. + +“I want to get word to a man down there,” he said,--“some fellow that +Fox talks about, who has a good team to sell. I thought I had his card. +Well, never mind, I'll call up Fox in the morning and get his name and +address. Then if you have time”--Jim smiled--“you might talk with him +and see what they are. Don't commit yourself; just size things up.” + +Harvey bowed. + +“I don't believe you need come around in the morning. I'll call you up +or wire you. But don't lose any dinners on account of it.” + +The next morning Harvey went to Truesdale. + +The Oakwood Club House stands on a knoll some eight miles up the river +from Truesdale. Giant elms shade the wide veranda, while others droop +over the white macadam drive that swings steeply down to the bridge +and vanishes in a grove of oak, hickory, and birch. If you stand on the +steps and look west, you can see, through the immediate foliage, the +Maiden County hills, their blue tops contrasting with the nearer green +of the valley. To the left, an obtruding wing checks the view; on the +right, leading straight down to the river, is a well-worn path. + +After dinner the party strolled up and down the veranda, gradually +separating into couples. The twilight creeping down found Harvey and +Miss Porter alone by the railing. She stood erect, looking out over the +valley, her scarlet golf jacket thrown back, her hair disordered by the +long ride and curling about her face. Harvey watched her in silence. He +was glad that she was tall; he liked to meet her eyes without looking +down. He had often tried to remember the color of those eyes. Presently +she turned and looked at him. + +“They're gray,” he said, half to himself. + +“No,” she replied; “sometimes they are brown and sometimes green. They +are not gray.” + +Harvey leaned forward. + +“I'm sure they are.” + +For a moment they stood looking into each other's eyes, then she turned +away with a little laugh and removed her sailor hat, swinging it from +her hand. + +“Look,” she said, with an impulsive gesture toward the west. Harvey +followed her gaze. The dark was settling into the valley. There were +splotches of foliage and waves of meadow, with a few winding strips of +silver where the river broke away from the trees. “And to think that we +have only a few more such days.” + +“Yes,”--he spoke softly,--“we don't see things like that in Chicago.” + +“Why don't you come to Truesdale?” + +“So long as Mr. Weeks stays in Chicago, I am likely to be there too.” + +“You are fond of Mr. Weeks?” + +“Yes, I am.” + +“I never met him--I've heard a great deal about him.” She sat upon +the railing and leaned back against a pillar, her eyes turned to the +foliage. “Father says he is a good business man.” + +“He is.” + +“Mr. West,” she threw her head back with a peremptory toss--“I want you +to tell me something.” + +“Wait,” he replied, “come to the river. Then I'll tell you anything.” + +She smiled, but acquiesced, and they went down the path. Harvey drew +up a cedar boat and extended his hand, but she stepped lightly aboard +without his aid. Harvey pushed away from the bank and began slowly to +paddle against the current. + +“Now,” he said, “the Sister Confessor may proceed.” + +She looked up at him. He thought she was smiling, but she spoke +earnestly. + +“I want you to tell me about this M. & T. fight.” + +“I don't believe there is anything to tell.” + +“You think I am not interested.” + +“No--not that.” + +“You men are all alike. You think a girl can't understand business.” She +seemed to be musing. “You like a girl who is helpless and fluttery, who +can be patronized.” + +“No,” said Harvey, “not that either.” + +“I wish you would tell me.” + +“How much do you know?” + +Before replying she looked out over the water for several moments. +Harvey rested his oars and waited. She turned to him, still musing. + +“I'll be frank,” she said. “I am not going to say how much I know, but I +want you to tell me all about it.” + +Harvey began to row. + +“Of course,” she went on, “I have heard father's friends talking.” + +Harvey smiled. + +“You puzzle me,” he remarked. + +“Why should any one wish to get control of your road?” + +“Because there is coal on the line.” + +“Is Mr. Weeks firmly in control?” + +Harvey leaned over the oars. + +“I wish I knew--” he hesitated. “Are we good friends?” + +“I can speak for myself.” + +“Why are you interested in this business?” + +“Because--well, I will tell you the truth. Of course I know that father +and Mr. Weeks are--I suppose you would call it fighting. Father doesn't +understand how I could ask you down to-day.” + +“I am glad you did.” + +“I wanted you to feel that--you see we have been good friends, and it +would be too bad to let a thing like this--don't you understand?” + +Harvey leaned forward and impulsively extended his hand. She drew back. + +“Just shake hands,” said Harvey. He clasped hers firmly, releasing it +with a quiet “Thank you.” + +They were drifting down stream under the trees with no sound save a +faint rustle from overhead. Strands of moonlight sifted through the +foliage, blurring the east bank into shadow. + +“Do you know what I am thinking of?” Harvey asked in a low tone. She +smiled faintly and shook her head. They swung into a patch of moonlight, +and for a moment their eyes met; then she looked away and said,-- + +“We must go back.” + +“It isn't late,” Harvey remonstrated. + +“We must go back.” + +Harvey obediently took up the oars, then hesitated. + +“Please don't stay here,” she said. + +They went up the path in silence. The brake stood at the steps, and the +other members of the party were laughing and talking on the veranda. +Harvey stopped before they left the shadow. Miss Porter walked a few +steps, then turned and faced him. + +“What is the matter?” he asked. “Can't you trust me? Are you afraid of +me?” + +She came forward and laid her hand upon his arm. + +“Don't misunderstand me,” she said with hesitation. “If I were as sure +of myself as I am of you--Come, they are watching us.” + +An hour later they stood at Mr. Porter's door. + +“Good night,” said Harvey, but she lingered. + +“Shall I see you to-morrow?” + +“Do you think I had better come?” + +“Why not?” + +“Perhaps your father--” + +“I want you to. Anyway,” smiling, “father is in Chicago.” + +Harvey smiled too. + +“I'll send the trap for you, and we'll drive--at ten, say. I suppose you +are at the hotel.” + +“Yes,” said Harvey. “Good night.” + +Mr. Porter's summer home was located on the river bank, something less +than a mile from the Truesdale Hotel. The walk was somewhat lonely, and +it gave Harvey time to think. At first he was bewildered. She had seemed +to be mistress of the situation, but at any rate he had told her nothing +about M. & T. affairs. There came into his mind a suspicion that she +knew more than she had led him to believe, for she would naturally not +let a man who had no claim upon her sway her loyalty to her father. And +yet, those eyes were honest. They had looked into his with an expression +that would charm away graver doubts than his. “I'll make her tell me,” + he thought. “I'll find out to-morrow just what she means, and if--” + In spite of himself, Harvey's heart beat fast at thought of the +possibilities which lay behind that “if.” From doubt, he drifted back +into a review of the evening. He called up pictures of her on the brake, +on the boat, or on the shaded path. When he reached the hotel he sat +down on the veranda and lighted a cigar. “Yes,” he repeated to himself, +“I'll make her tell me.” But in the morning, after a more or less steady +sleep, Harvey looked out at the calm sunlight and changed his mind. +“I'll wait,” he thought, “and see what happens.” + +At ten, the Porter trap stood in front of the hotel, and Harvey climbed +into the trap and took the reins. As he started, a telegraph boy ran +down the steps calling to him. Harvey took the yellow envelope and with +a thought of Jim's errand he thrust it between his teeth, for the horses +were prancing. Later he stuffed it into his pocket until he should reach +the Porters'. The drive was exhilarating, and by the time he pulled up +in the porte-cochere he had himself well in control. She did not keep +him waiting, and they were soon whirling down the old river road. + +Katherine was in a bright mood. For a space they talked commonplaces. +Harvey thought of the telegram, but dared not take his attention from +the horses until they should run off a little spirit, so he let them go. + +“Isn't it splendid,” she said, drawing in the brisk air and looking at +the broad stream on their right. “Do you know, I never see the river +without thinking of the old days when this country was wild. It seems +so odd to realize that Tonty and La Salle paddled up and down here. They +may have camped where we are now. Sometimes in the evenings when we are +on the river, I imagine I can see a line of canoes with strange, dark +men in buckskin, and painted Indians, and solemn old monks, with Father +Hennepin in the first canoe. So many curious old memories hover over +this stream.” + +The horses were slowing. Harvey said abruptly,-- + +“Will you mind if I open a telegram?” + +“Certainly not.” She reached out and took the reins. Harvey opened the +envelope with his thumb. He read the message twice, then lowered it to +his knees with a puzzled expression. + +“Bad news?” asked Miss Porter. + +“I don't know. Read it if you like.” + +She handed back the reins and read the following:-- + + Mr. Harvey West: + + You are receiver M. & T. Come to Manchester at once. + + Weeks. + +“Well,” he said, “what do you think?” + +She slowly folded the paper and creased it between her fingers. + +“Can you make it?” she asked. + +Harvey looked at his watch. “Train goes at eleven. I've got thirteen +minutes.” + +“Turn around. It's only three miles. We can do it.” + +Harvey pulled up and turned. Then he hesitated. + +“How about the team?” he said; “I can't take you home.” + +“Never mind that. Quick; you can't lose any time. I'll get the team +back.” + +Harvey nodded and gripped the reins, and in a moment the bays were in +their stride. Harvey's hands were full, and he made no effort to talk. +Miss Porter alternately watched him and the horses. + +“They can do better than that. You'll have to slow up in town, you +know.” And Harvey urged them on. + +As they neared the town, Harvey spoke. + +“Will you look at my watch?” + +She threw back his coat and tugged at the fob until the watch appeared. +“Three minutes yet. We're all right.” + +But a blocked electric car delayed them, and they swung up to the +platform just at train-time. Harvey gripped her hand:-- + +“Good-by. I shan't forget this.” + +But though her eyes danced, she only answered, “Please hurry!” + +As Harvey dropped into a seat and looked out the car window, he saw +her sitting erect, holding the nervous team with firm control. And he +settled back with a glow in his heart. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +JUDGE GREY + +On Friday, after Jim Weeks had told Harvey that he was free to go to +Truesdale, he followed the young man almost fondly with his eyes and he +did not at once resume the work which awaited him. For Harvey's request +had set him thinking. During years that passed after the day when he +took his last drive with Ethel Harvey, he had not dared to think of her. +Later when he heard of her death, he did not try to analyze the impulse +which led him to offer a position to Harvey. As he grew to know the +young fellow he gradually admitted to himself his fondness for him, and +now that he believed that Harvey was in love, he allowed himself for the +first time the luxury of reminiscence. + +The old Louisville days came back to him when he and Ethel rode together +through country lanes and he loved her. The wound was healed; it had +lost its sting a score of years ago, but his mood was still tender, and +as he stared at the pile of papers on his desk, thoughts of C. & S.C. +were far away. At last, however, the consciousness of this came upon +him and he thought, “I reckon I need exercise,” and then a moment +later, “It'll be quite a trick, though, to find a horse that's up to my +weight.” + +He had hardly taken up his work when Pease appeared and told him that +a man wanted to see him. The man was a deputy sheriff, and he came to +serve on James Weeks the injunction which Judge Black had signed in +Porter's office two hours before. + +It may be that his earlier mood had something to do with it; for as Jim +laid the paper on his desk, his thoughts went back half a century to one +of his boyhood days. It was a summer afternoon, and Jim and some of his +friends had been in swimming; somehow it became necessary for him to +fight Thomas Ransome. Jim had never been in a fight before, and he had +no theories whatever, but he found that he could hit hard, and it never +occurred to him to try to parry. Thomas was forced to give back steadily +until his farther retreat was cut off by the river and he saw that more +vigorous tactics were required. With utter disregard of the laws of +war he drove a vicious kick at Jim's stomach. Had it landed, its effect +would probably have been serious, but Jim, for the first time since the +fight began, stepped back, and with both hands gave additional impetus +to the foot, so that Thomas kicked much higher than he had intended, and +losing his balance, he toppled into the river with a very satisfactory +splash. + +Jim smiled at the recollection and then read the injunction again to see +if it were possible to catch Porter's foot. His eye rested long on the +sputtery signature at the bottom, and he thought, “I might have known +that Porter wouldn't go into this business without owning a Judge.” + +He put the paper in his pocket, then locked his desk, and with a word +to Pease he left the office. Jim dined down town, and not until after +dinner did he think of Harvey and his leave of absence. He would need +his secretary to-morrow, and it would not do to have him out of reach. +But the moments of reminiscence that afternoon came to Harvey's rescue, +and Jim in the most unbusinesslike way decided to get on without his +secretary. “He can't go through that but once,” thought Jim. + +He left the restaurant and walked rapidly to the Northern Station, +and for the second time that week the Northern Limited took Jim to +Manchester. + +Jim was going to see Judge Grey. He had already decided what he wanted +the Judge to do; whether he could get him to do it was another question, +which Jim was going to put to the test as soon as possible. + +The trains on the Northern in coming into Manchester run down the middle +of one of the main business streets, and engineers are compelled by city +statutes to run slowly. As the Limited slowed down, Jim walked out on +the rear platform and stood gazing at the brightly lighted shop windows. +At an intersecting street he saw a trolley car waiting for the train to +pass; the blue light it showed told Jim it was the car he wanted, so +he swung quickly off the train and stepped aboard the car as it came +bumping over the crossing. It was evidently behind its schedule, for +once on clear track again it sped along rapidly. A man was running to +catch the car, and Jim watched him with amused interest. At first he +gained, but as the speed of the car increased he gave up the race; but +he had come near enough for Jim to recognize him as the man who had +dined only a few tables from him that evening in Chicago and who had +sat a few seats behind him on the Limited. Jim smiled. “They're mighty +anxious to know what I'm doing,” he thought. + +Judge Grey did not go away on vacations. He was a homely man, with a +large family, and he took serious views of life. He was country bred, +and he had never outgrown a certain rusticity of appearance. It was said +that his wife always cut his hair, and the concentric circles made by +the neatly trimmed ends lent verisimilitude to the tale that she began +at the crown with a butter dish to guide her scissors, then extended the +diameter of her circle by using next a saucer, and last a soup bowl. + +The Judge greeted Jim warmly, invited him into the library, and sat down +to hear what he had to say. Jim told him almost without reservation the +story of the fight for the possession of M. & T., beginning with his +large investment in the road and his election to the presidency of it. +He did not try to make a good story; he told what had happened as simply +and briefly as possible, and he interested Judge Grey. Part of it was +already known to him, and part filled in gaps in his knowledge. To him +it was the story of an honest struggle for something worth struggling +for. When it came to the latest move, and Jim without comment handed him +Black's injunction, the Judge's wrath flamed out. + +“That's an outrage!” he exclaimed. “It's just a legal hold-up.” + +“Possibly,” said Jim. “It was the best move they could make, though. +But,” he went on after a short pause, “I've got the right in this +business, and I want you to help me.” + +“You want me to dissolve the injunction, I suppose,” said the Judge, +cautiously. + +“No,” said Jim. “I don't. Just the other way. I'd like you to issue an +injunction that will go a little farther.” + +There was another short pause, and then Jim began explaining his +plan. As he explained and argued, the fire, which had been crackling +cheerfully when he came in, flickered more and more faintly, and it was +but a fading glow when that most informal session of the Circuit Court +in chancery sitting came to its conclusion. + +“That's all right, then,” said Jim at length, rising as he spoke. + +“Yes,” said the other. “We'll do it that way. Are you going right back +to Chicago, Mr. Weeks?” + +“No,” said Jim. “I shall be here for some time. From now on this fight +will be along the line of the road.” + + + +Mr. Wing was oppressed by a sense of his office boy's superiority. He +read disapprobation in the round-eyed stare, and even the cut-steel +buttons, though of Wing's own purveying, seemed arguslike in their +critical surveillance. He would have abolished them had he not felt that +the boy would understand the change. If the boy had only forgotten to +copy letters or had manifested an unruly desire to attend his relatives' +funerals, his employer would have been a happier man. As it was, he felt +apologetic every time he came in late or went out early. + +The directors' meeting which Porter and Thompson had decided upon +on Friday was to take place the next afternoon in Wing's office; so, +contrary to the little man's custom on Saturday afternoons, he returned +thither after lunch. + +Porter and Thompson were already there, and the former was giving +the Vice-President his last instructions, with the evident purpose of +stiffening him up a bit. For Thompson seemed to need stiffening badly. +One by one, and two by two, the directors came straggling in, and +presently Porter, with a parting injunction to Thompson, left the room +and crossed over to McNally's office, where his lieutenant was waiting +for him. There they plotted and planned and awaited the result of the +directors' meeting across the hall. + +In Wing's office the meeting was about to begin. It was easy to +distinguish between Jim's friends and the C. & S.C. people; for the +former, a doleful minority, were crowded in one corner doing nothing +because there was nothing they could do, while on the other side of the +room were the gang, with Thompson in the centre, talking in low tones +over the programme of the meeting. There seemed to be no hope whatever +that the President would be able to save himself, for his opponents +had a clear majority of two, and they were met to-day to press this +advantage to the utmost. Had Jim been there at hand, his cause would +not have seemed to his friends so desperate, for it was hard, looking at +him, to imagine him defeated; his very bulk seemed prophetic of ultimate +victory. But Jim was not there; he was not even in Chicago. + +There was one man in the minority group who seemed somewhat less +cheerless than his companions. When they asked him what hope there was, +what way of escape he saw, he could not answer, but he still professed +to believe that the President's downfall was not so imminent as it +seemed. And the thought that perhaps this one man knew more than he +could tell kept the minority from becoming utterly discouraged. The +foundation for his hopes lay in a telegram he had received that morning +from Jim, which read, “_Don't get scared, everything all right._” + Evidently Jim was not submitting tamely, but whatever was going to +happen must happen soon if it was not to be too late, for Thompson was +already calling the meeting to order. As the directors seated +themselves about the long table and listened to Thompson's opening +remarks,--Thompson liked to make remarks,--it seemed that for once in +his life Jim was beaten. + +At that moment, in the arched entrance to the Dartmouth, a man whose +damp forehead and limp collar bore witness that he was in a hurry, +turned away from the wall directory he had been scrutinizing and entered +the nearest elevator. + +“Six,” he said. Once on the sixth floor he looked about for a minute +or two and walked into the outer office where Buttons was on guard, +demanding audience with Mr. Wing. + +“Mr. Wing is in,” said the boy, “but he is engaged and can't be +disturbed.” + +“They're here, are they?” said the man. “Well, I want to see Mr. Wing +and Mr. Thompson and Mr. Powers.” + +“But you can't see them,” was the answer. “There's a directors' meeting +in there.” + +“In there, eh?” said the man, and without further parley with Buttons, +he entered the room indicated, closing the door behind him. + +Meanwhile Porter and McNally in the other office were discussing +probabilities and possibilities and thinking of a good many others which +neither of them cared to discuss, though all were in their way pleasant. +Suddenly they were interrupted by the apparition of Buttons. His eyes +were rounder than ever, and his white hair looked as though some one had +tried to drag it out of his head. + +“Please, sir,” he gasped, “Mr. Thompson wants to see you right away.” + +Porter jumped to his feet and fairly ran out of the room. As he turned +into the hall a muffled uproar greeted his ears, and it made him hurry +the faster. But McNally stayed where he was. He, too, heard the strange +noise, but he felt that he would not be able to do any good by going in +there. McNally did not “come out strong” amid scenes of violence. His +heart troubled him. + +It was not more than five minutes before Porter came back. His face was +a study. + +“They're raising hell in there,” he said. “Weeks's judge has just served +an injunction that kicks Thompson and Wing and Powers off the board. +Thompson just curled up,--he was almost too scared to breathe,--and Wing +seemed to be having some sort of a fit. There was one idiot up on the +table yelling that the meeting was adjourned and trying to give three +cheers for Weeks.” (It was the man with the telegram.) + +“Well,” said McNally, “what's going to happen next?” + +“I don't know,” said Porter, breathlessly. “I don't see that anything +can happen. As things stand now there isn't a quorum of directors and +all the officers are suspended. The road can't do business.” + +Suddenly he leaned forward in his chair and exclaimed:-- + +“By George, if that road doesn't need a receiver, no road ever did. +Telephone Judge Black quick. We'll get in ahead of Weeks this time.” + +There was no delay in finding the Judge. Porter had indicated to him +the advisability of keeping himself on tap, as it were, and he was now +prepared to settle with neatness and despatch the legal affairs of his +employers. Before dark that afternoon he had regularly and with all +necessary formality appointed Frederick McNally to be receiver for the +Manchester & Truesdale Railroad Company. + +But it was significant of Jim Weeks's foresight that the road already +had a receiver, for at that very moment he had in his pocket an order +from Judge Grey appointing Harvey West to that position. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +THE MATTER OF POSSESSION + +The M. & T. terminal station at Manchester was in reality two buildings. +From the street, it looked like an ordinary three-story office building, +except that there were no stores on the street level. Instead, the first +floor was taken up by two large waiting rooms, the ticket office, and +a baggage room. Entering through the big doorway in the centre, you +ascended a few steps, passed through the waiting room, then up some more +steps and across a covered iron bridge which spanned a narrow alley. +This bridge connected the station proper with the train shed. + +The offices of the company occupied the two upper floors. The same +stairway that led to the bridge doubled on itself and zigzagged up the +rest of the way. As you reached the second floor, the office of the +Superintendent was before you, across the hall. To your right were large +rooms occupied by various branches of the clerical force, while to +your left the first door bore the word “Treasurer,” and the second was +lettered “President.” The Treasurer's office was a large room, cut +off at the rear by a vault which contained the more valuable of the +company's books and papers: the main vault was downstairs. A narrow +passage between the vault and the partition led to a small window which +overlooked the train shed and the alley. On one side of this passage was +the vault entrance, on the other was a door which had been cut through +the partition into the President's private office. + +Early on Monday morning, after a brief survey of the various officers +and a few words with the Superintendent, Harvey assumed the direction +of the road and established himself in the President's room, while a +big deputy sat at the desk in the outer office. The night before, at the +Illinois House, Jim and Harvey had talked until late, discussing every +detail of the situation. Jim had gone over the fight of Saturday, +winding up with a few words of advice. + +“We'll have trouble,” he said. “Porter isn't going to let things slip +away any easier than he has to. The safe plan is to suspect everything +and everybody. Keep everything in sight. I'll be here to help, but from +now on you represent the road.” + +Harvey arranged the desk to suit him, then he opened the small door +behind him and crossed the passage. The vault door was open, but a steel +gate barred the way. A key hung by the window, and as Harvey unlocked +the gate and swung it open, a bell rang. He examined the shelves, and +noted that the books were in place. He knew that the possession of those +books meant practically the possession of the road. + +Reentering his office he found the deputy standing in the other doorway. + +“Gentleman to see you, Mr. West,” said the deputy. “Won't give his name. +Says it's important.” + +“Show him in,” Harvey replied. + +The deputy stepped back and made way for a quiet-looking man who was +even larger than himself. The newcomer closed the door behind him. + +“Mr. West,” he said, “Mr. Weeks ordered me to report to you. I'm +Mallory, from the Pinkerton agency. I have three men outside. Have you +any instructions?” + +Harvey checked a smile. It reminded him of the stories of his boyhood. +But in a moment it dawned upon him that if Jim thought the situation so +serious, he must be very careful. + +“Yes,” he answered slowly. “Put one man near the vault--here”--he opened +the small door--“let no one go into the vault without my permission. +Then you might put one man in the hall--somewhere out of sight--and one +outside the building. You understand that there may be an attempt to get +possession of the books. Do you know any of the C. & S.C. men--William +C. Porter, or Frederick McNally?” + +The detective shook his head. + +“Well, then, just keep things right under your eye, and report every +hour or so.” + +The detective nodded and left the room. A little later Harvey opened the +side door, and saw a man lounging in the passage, looking idly out the +window. + +Shortly after ten Jim came in to talk things over. He told Harvey that +the C. & S.C. people had a counter move under way, but he was unable to +discover its nature. He had seen McNally in company with a number of +men who did not often leave Chicago. “He'll be up here, yet,” Jim added +prophetically; and he went out without leaving word. “Don't know how +long I'll be gone,” was all he would say; “but you'll see me off and +on.” + +Ten minutes after Jim's departure McNally appeared. Harvey heard his +voice in the outer office, then the deputy came to Harvey's desk. + +“Mr. Frederick McNally,” said the official. “He asked for the +Superintendent first, and I sent him in to Mr. Mattison, but he sent him +back to you. Will you see him?” + +“Yes,” replied Harvey. “And you may stay in the room.” + +The deputy held open the door, while McNally entered. + +“How are you, West?” he said brusquely. “There seems to be some +confusion here. The Superintendent disclaims all authority, and refers +me to you.” + +“Sit down,” said Harvey, waiting for McNally to continue. Evidently +McNally preferred to stand. + +“I wish to see some one in authority, Mr. West.” + +“You may talk with me.” + +“You--are you in authority?” + +Harvey bowed, and fingered a paper-weight. + +“I don't understand this, West.” He glanced at the deputy. “I wish to +see you alone.” + +For a moment Harvey looked doubtful, then he smiled slightly, and nodded +at the deputy, saying,-- + +“Very well.” + +“Will you tell me what this means?” asked McNally, when the door had +closed. + +Harvey looked gravely at him and said nothing. + +“Well?” McNally's coolness was leaving him. “Are you in control of this +road, or aren't you?” + +“I am.” + +“In that case”--he produced a paper--“it becomes my duty to relieve +you.” + +Harvey looked at the paper; it was an order from Judge Black appointing +McNally receiver for M. & T. Harvey handed it back, saying, coolly,-- + +“Sit down, Mr. McNally.” + +“I have no time to waste, West. You will please turn over the books.” + +“They are in the vault,” said Harvey, pointing to the side door. + +McNally looked sharply at Harvey, but the young man had turned to a +pile of letters. After a moment's hesitation McNally opened the door and +pulled at the steel gate. As he was peering through the bars, a heavy +hand fell on his shoulder. + +“Here!” said a low voice. “You'll have to keep away from that vault.” + +“Take your hand away!” McNally ordered. + +“Come, now! Move on!” + +“Mr. West, under whose orders is this man acting?” + +“His superior officer's, I suppose,” Harvey called through the door +without rising. + +“Call him at once, sir.” + +The detective beckoned to a boy, and sent him out of the room. In a +moment his chief appeared. + +“This man sent for you, Mr. Mallory,” said the detective. + +“What is it?” asked Mallory. + +McNally blustered. + +“I want to know what this means. Do you understand that I am the +receiver of this road?” + +“Oh, no, you aren't.” Mallory stepped to the door. “Is this true, Mr. +West?” + +“No,” said Harvey, “it isn't.” + +“You'll have to leave, then, my friend.” + +“Don't you touch me!” McNally's face was growing red. For reply each +detective seized an arm, and the protesting receiver was hustled +unceremoniously out of the room. + +An hour later McNally returned. He greeted the deputy with a suave +smile, and requested an interview with Mr. West. + +“I'm not sure about that,” said the deputy. + +“That is too bad,” smiled McNally. “Kindly speak to Mr. West.” + +With a disapproving glance the deputy opened the door. Harvey came +forward. + +“Well,” he said brusquely, “what can I do for you?” + +McNally stepped through the door and seated himself. + +“I've been thinking this matter over, Mr. West, and I believe that we +can come to an understanding. If your claims are correct, the road has +two receivers. You are nominally in possession, but, nevertheless, you +are liable for contempt of court for refusing to honor my authority. +Whichever way the case is settled, I am in a position to inconvenience +you for resisting me.” + +He waited for a reply, but Harvey waited, too. + +“In the interest of the road, Mr. West, it would be very much better +for you to recognize me, even to the extent of having two receivers. It +could not affect the outcome of the case, and it might avoid trouble.” + +“I can't agree with you,” Harvey replied. “I shall retain control of the +road until the case is settled.” + +McNally rose. + +“Then, I warn you, you will have a big undertaking on your hands.” + +“I suppose so.” + +“Very well; good morning.” + +“Good morning, Mr. McNally.” + +At noon Harvey went out to lunch. He met Jim at the hotel, and told him +what had happened. Jim smiled at Harvey's seriousness. + +“The fight hasn't begun yet,” he said. “When you've been through as many +deals as I have”--he stopped and drew out his watch. + +“It's one-thirty. You'd better get back. I'll go with you and look over +the field.” + +As they walked through the waiting room Harvey fancied that he heard a +noise from above. However, the noon express, out in the train shed, was +blowing off steam with a roar, and he could not be positive. But Jim +quickened his pace, and ran up the steps with surprising agility. + +As they neared the second floor the noise grew. There was scuffling and +loud talking, culminating in an uproar of profanity and blows. The first +man they saw was McNally. He stood near the stairway, hat on the back of +his head, face red but composed. Before him was a strange scene. Mallory +and the big deputy stood with their backs to the Treasurer's door, +tussling with three burly ruffians. Beyond the deputy, one of the +detectives was standing off two men with well-placed blows. The two +other detectives were rolling about the floor, each with a man firmly +in his grasp. There was a great noise of feet, as the different groups +swayed and struggled. In the excitement none of them saw Jim and Harvey, +who stood for a moment on the top step. + +A stiff blow caught the deputy's chin, and he staggered. With a quick +motion Mallory whipped out a pair of handcuffs. There was a flash of +steel as he drew back his arm, then the maddened rough went down in +a heap, a stream of blood flowing from his head. One of the others, +a red-haired man, gripped the handcuffs and fought for them. It all +happened in an instant, and as Harvey stood half-dazed, he heard a +breathless exclamation, and Jim had sprung forward. + +Some persons might have thought Jim Weeks fat. He weighed two hundred +and forty pounds, but he was tall and wide in the shoulder. On ordinary +occasions his face was so composed as to appear almost cold-blooded, but +now it was fairly livid. Harvey drew in his breath with surprise; he had +seen Jim angry, but never like this. In three strides Jim was behind the +red-haired man. He threw an arm around the man's neck, jerking his chin +up with such force that his body bent backward, and relinquishing his +hold on the handcuffs he clutched, gasping, at Jim's arm. But the +arm gripped like iron. While Mallory was pulling himself together and +turning to aid the deputy, Jim walked backward, dragging the struggling +man to the head of the stairs. On the top step he paused to grip the +man's trousers with his other hand, then he literally threw the fellow +downstairs. Bruised and battered, he lay for a moment on the landing, +then he struggled to his feet and moved his arm toward his hip pocket, +but Jim was ready. The breathless President started down the stairs with +a rush. For an instant the man wavered, then he broke and fled into the +train shed. + +On his return Jim had to step aside to avoid another ruffian, who was +walking down with profane mutterings. This time Harvey had a hand in the +fighting, and he leaned over the railing to answer the man's oaths +with a threat of the law. Jim and Harvey stood aside while the four +detectives and the deputy led the remainder of the gang downstairs to +await the police. + +From the various offices frightened faces were peering through +half-open doors. A few stripling clerks appeared with belated offers +of assistance, but Jim waved them back. Already Jim was cooling off. He +could not afford to retain such a passion, and he mopped his face and +neck for a few moments without speaking. His breath was gone, but he +began to recover it. + +“Hello,” he said, at length, “where's McNally?” + +Harvey started, then ran down the hall, glancing hastily into the +different offices. When he returned, Jim had vanished. While he stood +irresolute, two stalwart brakemen appeared from the train shed and stood +on the landing. One of them called up,-- + +“Can we help you, sir?” + +“Wait a minute,” said Harvey. + +A door opened down the hall. Harvey looked toward the sound, and saw Jim +backing out of the wash-room, followed by McNally, whose arm was held +firmly in Jim's grasp. They came toward Harvey in silence. + +“He was hiding, West,” said Jim, a savage eagerness in his voice. “He +hadn't the nerve to stick it out. Corker, isn't he?” + +McNally stood for a moment looking doggedly out through the window over +the roof of the shed. + +“You've got yourself into a mess, Weeks,” he said, speaking slowly in an +effort to bring himself under control. “This'll land you in Joliet.” + +For reply Jim looked him over contemptuously, and tightened his grasp +until the other winced. Then he suddenly loosened his hold, stepped +back, and calling, “Catch him, boys!” kicked McNally with a mighty +swing. + +Harvey laughed hysterically as the flying figure sailed down the +stairway, then he heard Jim say to the brakemen,-- + +“Take him to Mallory, and tell him to put him with the others.” + +“Well,” said Harvey, nervously, “I guess that's settled.” + +“No,” said Jim, “it's only just begun. He'll be on deck again before +night.” The next sentence was lost in the mopping handkerchief, but +as he turned into the office, he added, “We'll have to lose the books +to-night, West.” + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +SOMEBODY LOSES THE BOOKS + +When Harvey went to dinner in the evening he left a force of ten +detectives guarding the offices. Jim, who had spent the afternoon with +Harvey, superintended the placing of the men. Mallory, the lieutenant +in charge, was ensconced in the Superintendent's office, and six of his +assistants were with him, privileged to doze until called. One man stood +in the hall, in a position to watch the stairway and the windows at each +end; one patrolled the waiting room; and the ninth man strolled about in +front of the building, loitering in the shadows and watching the street +with trained eye. Before leaving the station Jim had a short talk with +Mallory. + +“Watch it awful close,” he said. “There's no telling what these people +will do.” + +“Very well, Mr. Weeks. They won't get ahead of us. But I should feel a +bit safer if you'd let me put a man by the vault.” + +Jim shook his head. + +“There's such a thing as doing it too well, Mallory. And by all means I +hope that you won't do that.” + +He looked closely at the detective, who glanced away with a cautious +nod. + +That evening after dinner, Jim telephoned for Mattison, the +Superintendent, and a long talk ensued in Jim's room at the hotel. +Neither he nor Harvey wasted time in recounting the experiences of the +day; they had too many plans for the night. As Jim had said, it was +necessary to lose the books, and to lose them thoroughly. It was +equally important that the action should not be confided to any ordinary +employee. The fewer men that knew of it, the safer Jim would be, and +so he finally decided to confine the information within its original +limits. + +“You two are lively on your feet,” he said. “And it is a good deal +better for you to do it.” + +“How about the detectives?” asked Mattison. + +“You'll have to keep out of their way. Mallory won't trouble you so +long as you keep still; but remember, every man, detective or not, that +catches you, makes one more chance for evidence against us.” + +“But isn't the building surrounded?” + +“No. There's only one man outside, and he is in front. You can go +through the alley and climb up to the window--it's only the second +floor. Mallory has orders to keep out of the vault room. He's over in +your office, Mattison.” + +“I suppose,” suggested Harvey, “that unless we are actually caught with +the books, we can throw a bluff about a tour of inspection or something +of that sort.” + +“And if we are caught,” said Mattison, “I suppose we can run like the +devil.” + +“You'll have to trust the details more or less to circumstances,” was +Jim's reply. + +“How about the books?” asked Harvey. “What shall we do with them?” + +“Mattison had better take care of them. We can't bring them to the +hotel, and anyhow, it is just as well if you and I, West, don't know +anything about them. Then, when we want them again, it is a good +deal easier for Mattison to find them than for any one else. Sort of +accident, you know.” + +It was finally agreed that before attempting to get the books, Harvey +and Mattison should make a _bona fide_ tour of inspection, by this means +finding out where each man was located. Mattison reminded them that the +watchman in the train shed was not to be overlooked, but they decided to +chance him. + +“There's one thing about it,” said Mattison, smiling. “If Johnson +doesn't catch us, I can discharge him for incompetency.” + +Shortly after midnight Harvey and Mattison started out. They found +the station dark. As they tiptoed slowly along, edging close to the +building, everything was silent. They reached the arched doorway, and +were turning in when the glare of a bull's-eye lantern flashed into +their eyes. Mattison laughed softly. + +“That's business,” he said. + +“What are you up to?” growled the man behind the lantern. + +“Where's Mallory?” was Mattison's answer. + +The man hesitated, then whistled softly. The whistle was echoed in the +waiting room. In a few moments the door opened and a voice said, “What's +up?” + +“Two chaps want Mallory.” + +Harvey and Mattison still stood on the stone step, looking into the +lantern. They could see neither door nor man. After a short wait, +evidently for scrutiny, the door closed. When it opened again, Mallory's +voice said, “Close that light,” adding, “Is anything the matter, Mr. +West?” + +“No,” replied Harvey. “We're keeping an eye open. I see your men know +their business. Have you had any trouble?” + +“Everything is quiet. Do you care to come in?” + +Harvey responded by entering, with Mattison following. As they crossed +the waiting room, Mallory drew their attention to a shadow near a +window. + +“One of our boys,” he said in a low tone. “I put out all the lights. It +makes it a good deal easier to watch.” + +Up in Mattison's office the detectives were lounging about, some +dozing, some conversing in low tones. The gas burned low, and the window +shutters were covered with the rugs from the President's office, to keep +the light from the street. + +The two officials, after a glance about the room, returned to the hall. +Harvey tried the door of each office, then returned to Mattison and +Mallory. While they stood whispering,--for at night sound travels +through an empty building,--there came the sound of a window sliding in +its sash, apparently from the Treasurer's office. + +Mallory paused to listen, then coolly turned and continued the +conversation. + +“What was that?” muttered Harvey. + +The lieutenant affected not to hear the remark. + +“Some one is getting into the building,” Harvey whispered. Mattison +stepped lightly across the hall and, bending down, listened at the +keyhole. He returned with an excited gesture. + +“Don't you hear it?” he asked. + +“No,” said Mallory. “I don't hear anything.” + +“Are you deaf, man?” + +“No, but I think I know when to hear.” + +It occurred to Harvey that Jim had done his work well. But then, Jim's +orders, however brief, were always understood. Harvey motioned the +others to be silent, and tiptoed across the floor. He listened as +Mattison had done, then passed on to the President's door. Cautiously he +drew a bunch of keys from his pocket, and feeling for the right one +he slipped it into the lock, threw open the door, and darted into the +office. Mattison and the detective followed, stumbling over chairs, +and colliding with the door to the inner office, which had closed after +Harvey. In the dim light they could see two figures struggling in the +passage by the vault. While Mattison sprang forward, Mallory quickly +lighted the gas. + +The light showed that Harvey had crowded the fellow up against the vault +door. The newcomer was a medium-sized man, rough-faced, and poorly clad. +On the floor was a small leather grip, which evidently had been kicked +over in the scuffle, for part of a burglar's kit was scattered about the +passage. + +Mallory jerked the man's wrists together, slipped on the handcuffs, and +led him out into the hall. In a moment the detective returned. + +“I left him with the boys, for the present. Case of common +safe-cracking.” + +“Do you think so?” said Harvey, adjusting his cuffs, and moving the +strange tools with his foot. “If he wanted money, I should think he +would have tackled the vault downstairs.” + +Mallory stooped, and replaced the kit in the bag. Suddenly he said,-- + +“Raise your foot, Mr. West.” + +Harvey did so, and the detective arose with a dirty paper in his hand. +He looked it over, and handed it to the others. It was a rough pencil +sketch of the station building, showing the alley, the window, the +Treasurer's office, and the vault. + +“What do you think of it?” asked Mallory. + +Harvey turned it over. A second glance showed it to be the front of an +envelope, for part of an end flap remained. The upper left-hand corner +had been torn off, evidently to remove the return card, but so hastily +that a part of the card remained. Straightening it out, and holding it +up to the light, Harvey read:-- + + ----esleigh, + ----ster, Illinois. + +Mallory looked over his shoulder, and exclaimed:-- + +“That's easy. Hotel Blakesleigh, Manchester, Illinois.” + +“How does that help you?” asked Mattison. + +Harvey lowered the paper. + +“Don't you see,” he replied. “There are two good hotels here, the +Illinois and the Blakesleigh. McNally is not at the Illinois.” He turned +to the detective. “You'd better let the fellow go, Mallory.” + +“Why?” + +“Because it is the easiest way to handle it. Keep the tools, though.” + +“But I don't understand, Mr. West.” + +“Well, there is no use in discussing it. We won't prefer charges.” + +“But the man was caught in the act.” + +“He didn't get any thing, poor devil. No; we're after bigger game than +this. We have enough for evidence. And don't sweat him.” + +“This is too deep for me, Mr. West. Surely there's no harm in +questioning him, now that I've got him.” + +“Can't help it, Mallory. When that man reports to his employer, I want +him to say that we suspect nothing beyond his attempt to crack the +safe.” + +The detective turned away with a frown. + +“I suppose you know your business, Mr. West.” + +Harvey and Mattison followed him to the hall, closing the door after +them. They said good night, and left the building. + +“See here, West,” said Mattison, when they were fairly around the +corner, “wasn't that a little hasty? It wouldn't hurt to keep the man +out of the way.” + +“No, I don't agree with you. What McNally has done so far will be upheld +by his judge. And another thing, Mattison; just at present, it isn't to +our interest to get an investigation under way. We're going to do the +same thing ourselves.” + +Slowly and cautiously they slipped around the next square, and, by +returning through the alley, brought up in the shadow of a building, +across the street from the train shed. Here they waited to reconnoitre. +The night was clear, and the arc-lamp at the corner threw an +intermittent glare down the street. As they looked, a long shadow +appeared on the sidewalk. Mattison gripped Harvey's arm, and drew him +back into the alley. They crouched behind a pile of boxes. + +“It's like stealing apples,” whispered Harvey. “When the old man gets +after you with a stick.” + +“Ssh!” + +The footsteps sounded loud on the stone walk. Then a helmeted figure +passed the alley, and went on its way. + +Waiting until the sound died in the distance, the two stepped to the +walk, looked hastily toward each corner, and ran across the street. Once +in the station alley, they paused again. + +“Look!” said Harvey, pointing; “he left the ladder.” + +Sure enough, a light ladder reached from the ground nearly to a +second-story window, which stood open. + +“Well, here we are,” Mattison whispered. “How do you feel?” + +“First-class. Better let me go,--I know the combination.” + +Mattison stood at the foot of the ladder, and steadied it while Harvey +stealthily climbed to the window. Drawing himself into the passage, the +receiver set to work on the vault lock. He turned the knob very slowly, +guarding against the slightest noise, but the faint light that came +through the window was not enough to bring out the numbers. Harvey +leaned back and considered. The scratching of a match would almost +surely be heard by the detectives. He leaned out the window, and +beckoned. Mattison came creeping up, and Harvey explained in a few +whispered sentences. “Go back and look up the street,” he concluded. +“We've got to light it outside the building.” + +While Mattison was gone, Harvey felt his way through the Treasurer's +office and paused to listen; then he drew up a chair which stood near +the door, and climbing up, slipped off his coat and hung it over +the half-open transom. Then he closed the transom, and the room was +practically light proof. With the same caution he reached the floor, +and tiptoed back to the window, where he found Mattison waiting on the +ladder. + +“All right,” whispered the Superintendent. “Are you ready?” + +“Yes.” + +Mattison struck a match on his trousers leg, shielded it with his hands, +then handed it to Harvey, who kneeled at the door and began to whirl the +knob. Before he was through the light was close to his fingers, and he +held another match to the flame, taking care to light the wrong end. At +last the lock clicked, and Harvey opened the door a few inches, then +he whispered to Mattison, “If I whistle, you get down and I'll drop the +books.” + +He swung the door open, but stopped bewildered. Before him was the steel +gate with the clanging bell. However, the risk must be run, so motioning +Mattison to climb down he drew out his keys, and with a match ready in +his hand he jerked the gate open and dashed into the vault. Striking +the match, he quickly located the books he needed, carried them to the +window and pitched them out. Then he heard a thud on the door. He threw +one leg over the sill, but stopped--his coat was still on the transom. +Some one was struggling to break in the door now, for it shook. Harvey +sprang back, mounted the chair, and tore down his coat, tumbling to the +floor, chair and all, with a clatter. A voice shouted, “Open the door, +or I'll shoot!” but Harvey gave no heed. He ran to the window and +literally fell down the ladder, filling his hands with slivers. There +came a crash from above, and a muttered oath, and Harvey knew that the +door had given way. He gave the ladder a shove, and as it fell upon the +cobblestones with a great noise, he turned and sped up the alley after a +dark figure that was already near to the corner. + +He caught up with Mattison in the next block, and relieved him of half +the load. Then for a long time they ran and doubled, fugitives from +half a dozen detectives and a few lumbering policemen. At last Mattison +turned up a dark alley in the residence district. Coming to a board +fence, he threw the books over, then climbed after. Harvey followed, and +found himself on a tennis court. Mattison led the way through the yard, +past a dark house, and across the street to a roomy frame residence. + +“Come in with me,” he said to Harvey. “You can't go back to the hotel +now.” + +Harvey laughed nervously and nodded. Mattison opened the door with his +night key, and with the heavy books in their arms the two burglars stole +up to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +A POLITICIAN + +Any man whose interests are extensive and diverse has sooner or later to +master the art of making other men work for him, and he must be content +to trust the management of a great part of his affairs to other hands. +Jim Weeks loved to keep a grasp even on the comparatively insignificant +details of his business, but he showed wonderful insight in the +selection of his lieutenants, and he could impart such momentum to his +projects that they moved forward as he meant them to, though his own +hand was not guiding them. Like other men accustomed to giving orders, +he took it for granted that his directions would be carried out. + +Bridge, the Tillman City alderman to whom he had intrusted the task of +watching Blaney, had worked for Jim long enough to know that this affair +was in his own hands, and that something more than obedience and zeal +was expected of him. Though Jim's words had been brief, it was easy to +see that the matter was important; important enough to give Bridge +a great opportunity. He wanted to make the most of it, and, in the +excitement of laying his plans, the design for the stable was forgotten. + +As the day wore on and his scheme crystallized, he fluctuated between a +sort of exalted confidence and the depths of nervous depression. He was +naturally a steady, humdrum sort of man, but he was planning to do an +audacious thing. His chance had come, and he meant to take it. At last, +just before supper time, he resolutely locked his office, and started +out to see Blaney. He hesitated a second or two before the contractor's +house; then he ran up the steps and rang the bell. + +The door was opened by a little girl, who peered up at him through the +dusk with a child's curiosity. Bridge knew her, but he was of that kind +of bachelors who are embarrassed in the presence of children. + +“Good evening, Louise,” he said. “Is your father home?” + +“No, sir, he isn't,” she answered. + +There was a moment of awkward silence, and then he stammered,-- + +“Well--good night.” He bent down and gravely shook hands with her, and +turned to go down the steps, but at that moment Blaney himself appeared. + +“How are you?” he said. “Did you want to see me?” + +“If you've got the time,” said Bridge. + +Blaney led the way into the house, and motioned Bridge to a seat in the +parlor. He himself paused in the hall to swing Louise up to his shoulder +and down again. + +“What's the matter with you to-night?” he asked. “You don't seem to want +to play. Are you sick?” + +“A little,” answered the child. “I'm kind of tired, and my head hurts.” + +He ran his thick hand through her red curls, and looked at her anxiously +for a moment. Then he followed Bridge into the parlor. + +“What can I do for you, Bridge?” he asked gruffly. + +Bridge hesitated a moment; then he said, “Jim Weeks was in town this +morning.” + +Blaney looked up sharply, and asked, “Did you see him?” + +“Yes,” answered the other. “That is, he came down to see me. You know +the M. & T. election is coming pretty soon now, and he got the idea that +our stock was going to be voted against him. He wanted me to fix it up +so things would go his way in the Council, and I told him that I'd do +what I could. I came around to you to see if your crowd were going to do +anything about it.” + +The coolness of the inquiry almost stupefied Blaney, but he managed to +speak. + +“I'd like to know,” he said, “what business that is of yours, anyway.” + +“It's my business, right enough,” said Bridge, easily. “I could ask the +same question in Council meeting, but I thought it was best to talk +it over with you quietly. There isn't any good in trying to fight Jim +Weeks, and I should think you'd know it. If ever a man had a cinch--” + +“What are you up to, anyhow?” demanded Blaney, now thoroughly +exasperated. “Did you come around here to try to bulldoze me? Well, I'll +just tell you you may as well save your breath. Do you understand that? +Weeks thinks he can come his old bluff down here, but he's going to get +fooled just once. We've got the backing that'll beat him. That's all +I've got to say to you.” + +“Well, I've got a little more to say to you,” said Bridge. “I came +around here on my own hook to find out whether you were just making your +regular bluff or whether you meant to fight, and I've found out. And +now I'm going to give you your choice. I'll either give you the hottest +scrap you ever had, and make what I can out of Weeks by it, or I'll go +in with you so you can get your deal through quietly. You can take your +choice.” + +“What the devil do you mean?” + +“I mean just this. That if there's any possible show of kicking that +damned bully out of here so that he'll never come back, I'd like to be +in it. And I guess my services would be valuable.” + +“Look here,” demanded Blaney, sharply. “What have you got against +Weeks?” + +“What have I got against him?” repeated Bridge. His face was flushed and +his shining eyes and clenched hands testified to his excitement. “Hasn't +he made me pull his hot chestnuts off the fire for the last two years? +Hasn't he held me up and made me pay a good rake-off from every deal +I've been lucky enough to make a little on? And hasn't he loaned me +money until I don't dare sign my own name without asking him if I can +do it, and--” He stopped as though knowing he had gone too far; then he +laughed nervously. “It's all right what I've got against him; that's my +business, I guess, but--” + +Again the unfinished sentence was eloquent. + +This time it was Blaney who broke the silence. “I guess,” he said +cautiously, “that if you want to tip Weeks over, you'll find there'll be +some to help you.” + +Bridge laughed bitterly. “There are plenty who'd be glad enough to do it +if they could. He's had his grip on all of us long enough for that; but +I'm afraid it's no good. We can't beat him. He's got us in a vise.” + +“I don't know about that,” said Blaney. + +“Why, man,” exclaimed the other, “what can we do? And if we try to buck +him and get left, he'll squeeze the life out of us. You know that.” + +Blaney did know that, and Bridge's words brought certain unpleasant +consequences plainly before his mind. All the while Bridge was talking +Blaney had been trying to find out what his motive was. He had always +believed that Bridge was hand and glove with Weeks, and at the +beginning he had suspected a trap. But what Bridge had said was entirely +plausible; he had given himself away without reserve, and had frankly +confessed that Weeks had been driving him. Bridge would be a valuable +ally in the scheme Blaney wanted to put through. Jim was popular in +Tillman, and if he were to be sold out to a corporation like C. & S.C., +it would, as Bridge had hinted, be well for all parties concerned in the +transfer that it should be accomplished as quietly as possible. Bridge +was at the head of a compact and determined minority, and if he opposed +the deal, he could make matters very uncomfortable for Blaney and his +henchmen. But with Bridge on his side the field was clear and there +could be no doubt as to the success of the scheme. The one thing that +troubled Blaney was that Bridge might demand money; but there was no +need of facing that issue yet, for Bridge had apparently not thought of +it. “He's just getting even for something,” thought Blaney. + +There was a long silence, which Blaney broke at last. + +“We don't have to buck him all by ourselves,” he said. “We're well +backed. C. & S.C. are behind us. Are you with us?” + +Bridge answered him steadily. “I've been waiting for a chance like this +for a year,” he said. “You can count me in for all I'm worth.” + +He rose to go and held out his hand to Blaney. “Good night,” he said, +“and good luck to us.” + +“So long,” was the answer. “I'll come around in a day or two, and we can +arrange details.” + +The interview had been a hard one for Bridge, and it left him weak and +nervous. When he sat down to supper at his boarding-house table that +evening he had no appetite. He went to bed early, but he did not sleep +well, and the next morning found him exhausted by the interminable hours +of dozing, uneasy half-consciousness. He spent the next day in hoping +that Blaney would come, though he had no reason for expecting him so +soon, and by night he was in worse condition than ever. He would +have gone again to see Blaney had he dared, but he felt that such a +proceeding would imperil the whole affair; he must wait for Blaney to +make the next move. + +Day followed day with no variation save that Bridge found the delay +more and more nearly unbearable, and the week had dragged to an end and +another begun before anything happened. On Sunday afternoon he started +out for a walk, but he had not gone far when he met Blaney. To his +surprise, the contractor looked as though the past week had been as hard +for him as it had been for Bridge. His face looked thin and his eyes +sunken and there were bristling uneven patches of sandy beard on his +face. When he came up to Bridge he stopped. + +“I suppose you've been looking for me,” he said. “I've been staying +right at home taking care of my kid; she's had the scarlet fever.” + +“Louise?” asked Bridge, with real concern. “I hope she's better.” + +“I guess she'll pull through all right now,” answered Blaney, “but she's +been pretty sick, and it's kept me busy night and day. You see my wife +can't do much at nursing. But I tell you scarlet fever is no joke.” + +“I never had it,” was the answer, “but I'm glad it's come out all right. +By the way,” he went on, as Blaney started to walk away, “when will you +be able to talk over that business with me?” + +“Why, now as well as at any time, I suppose,” said Blaney, after a +moment's hesitation. + +The contractor had an office near by, and at his suggestion they went +there for their conference. + +“How many men can you count?” he asked when they were seated. + +Now that the period of forced inaction was over, and there was something +important to do, Bridge forgot that his head was burning and his +throat dry, and for the first time in three days he was able to think +consecutively. For half an hour they figured their united strength and +talked over the individual members of the Council. But at last Bridge +said:-- + +“Before we go any further, I want to know more about this business. I've +taken your word so far that we would be backed up all right, and I hope +we are. But I can't afford to be beaten, and if Weeks isn't clean busted +up, he'll hound me to death. I've got to know more about this business.” + +Blaney looked out of the window. “Seems to me you're pretty late with +that talk about not going in,” he said. + +“I know I've committed myself to some extent without knowing just what +I was getting into,” answered Bridge, “but I won't go any farther till +some things are cleared up.” + +“What do you want to know?” asked Blaney. + +“I want to know what you're going to do. Voting that stock against Weeks +won't do any good. We can't get him out all by ourselves.” + +“We aren't all by ourselves. C. & S.C. are with us.” + +“That's what I'm trying to get at. To what extent are they with us?” + +Blaney hesitated. It had not been a part of his plan to tell of the +prospective sale of the stock. He had meant to have the Council direct +the voting of the stock for C. & S.C. faction, and then when they had +committed themselves by this act, to urge upon them the necessity of +selling out and to tempt them with the offer of par. But a glance at +Bridge's set face convinced him that the new ally meant what he said, +and he knew too much already for the safety of the scheme unless he were +furthering it. + +“They're with us to this extent,” said Blaney, slowly. “They're going to +buy our stock.” + +“That's all rot,” said Bridge. “We can't sell. M. & T.'s a good +investment now, and it's getting better every day.” + +“Wait till I get through,” interrupted Blaney, bent now on making an +impression. “Don't you think the Council would vote to sell at par?” + +“What's that got to do with it?” + +“C. & S.C. are going to pay par, that's all.” + +Bridge looked at him incredulously. “Then we're to vote the stock as +they dictate, just on the strength of their telling us they'll pay par +for it afterward. I'm afraid it'll be a long time afterward. How do you +know they aren't playing us for suckers?” + +“How do we know?” repeated Blaney. “I'm not quite as green as you think. +I know because I've got it down in black and white. They can't get +around a contract like that.” + +Unlocking a drawer in his desk, he drew out a sheet of paper which he +thrust into Bridge's hands. “Read it,” he said. + +Bridge read it through once and then again; it was briefly worded, and +he had no difficulty in remembering it. As he laid the paper down he was +conscious of a violent throbbing in his head, and he shivered as though +an icy breeze had blown upon him. He rose uncertainly from his chair and +moved toward the door. + +“What's the matter?” demanded Blaney. “Where are you going?” + +“I don't feel very well,” said Bridge. “I think I'll go home and go to +bed.” + +When he reached the foot of the stairs, however, he turned not toward +his room, but toward the railway station; for in his mind there was a +confused purpose of going to Chicago immediately and telling Jim Weeks +exactly what he had found out. + +Scarlet fever is not ordinarily a man's disease, but it had fallen upon +Bridge. He had exposed himself to it on the evening when he went to +Blaney's house to make the preliminary move in his game; and now after +the five days of tense inaction it attacked him furiously. + +He was in a raging fever when he left Blaney's office, but he did not +realize it, borne up as he was by the excitement of winning. There could +be no doubt that he had done as good a stroke of work for himself as for +Jim Weeks, for Jim was not the man to let the merit of his lieutenants +go unrecognized. He felt sure that Jim would win the fight, even with C. +& S.C. against him, and though he had not recognized the worthlessness +of the contract Blaney held, he was confident that Jim could use his +knowledge of the existence of such a contract with telling effect. + +As he walked on, the exhilaration of his triumph died out of him, and +his steps faltered and his sight became untrustworthy. He realized that +he was not fit for travelling, and reluctantly he turned back to his +room. He was a long time in reaching it, and when he staggered in and +dropped into an easy-chair he knew that he was a very sick man. With a +foreboding of the delirium that was coming upon him he gathered himself +together for a final effort and scrawled a copy of the contract upon a +slip of paper. With shaking hands he folded it and crammed it into an +inner pocket; then he rose and moved slowly toward the bed. He fell +twice in the short distance, but he kept on, and his head sank back in +the pillows before consciousness forsook him. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +KATHERINE + +As Katherine drove home alone on Sunday morning she was troubled. In +aiding Harvey to catch the train for Manchester she had acted upon the +veriest impulse, and Katherine liked to imagine herself a very cool and +self-possessed young woman. Slowly it dawned upon her that by helping +Harvey she had set her hand against her own father. In an impersonal way +she had realized this, but Harvey's presence had filled her thoughts, +and she had not allowed herself time to consider. And now that the +cooler afterthoughts had come she was almost as indignant with herself +for showing such open interest in Harvey as for hurting her father's +cause. Then she grew startled to realize that even in her thoughts she +was placing this man before her father. Harvey was not a fool. He would +see that she had been disloyal, and he would cease to respect her. She +wondered if she was disloyal. + +On reaching home she hurried to her room and sat down by the open +window, looking out over the lawn that sloped down to the road. Harvey +would think her weak, and would feel that he could sway her from her +strongest duty. + +The day was bright. Far in the distance she could see a bend of the +river. There was no sound, no life; the rolling country stretched away +in idle waves, the checkered farms lay quiet in the sun, over all was +the calm of a country Sunday. Her eyes wandered and she closed them, +resting her fingers on the lids. Life was serious to Katherine. Since +her early teens she had lived without a mother, and the result of +her forced independence was a pronounced and early womanhood. She had +learned her lessons from experience and had learned them with double +force. She had never been in love, and save for a very few youthful +flutterings had never given the idea a concrete form; and now that she +should manifest such weakness before Harvey partly alarmed her. She +suspected that he loved her, but would not permit herself to return it. +She knew too little about him, and, besides, her first duty was with +her father. She had yielded to impulse, but it was not too late to +reconsider. She had aided the enemy by a positive act; she would do as +much for her father. With firm eyes she rose and went downstairs, fully +decided to investigate the matter until she could discover a means of +throwing her energy against Weeks and Harvey. + +During the next two days her determination grew. Mr. Porter was in +Chicago and Manchester, and was not expected home immediately, so +Katherine had plenty of time for thinking. She drove a great deal, went +around the links every morning, and tried to read. It did not occur to +her that her effort was not so much to side with her duty as to +crowd down the thoughts of Harvey that would steal into her mind. She +permitted herself no leeway in the matter, but kept resolutely to her +decision. + +Tuesday afternoon she drove until quite late, and returning found her +father and McNally awaiting dinner. Although she was quicker than +usual in her efforts to entertain their guest, the meal was hurried +and uncomfortable. When in repose McNally's face was clouded, and the +occasional spells of interest into which he somewhat studiously aroused +himself could not conceal his general inattention. Her father, too, was +preoccupied, and was so abrupt in his conversation as to leave small +trace of the easy lightness of manner that Katherine had always known. + +After dinner Katherine excused herself, and stepped out through the long +window that opened on the veranda. Evidently a crisis had come, and +she wished that an opportunity would arise through which she might join +their discussion. Just outside of the library window she sat down on a +steamer chair and gazed up at the dark masses of the trees, the thinning +tops of which were at once darkened and relieved by the last red of the +western sky. + +“Yes, Porter, they kicked me out. My men and I made a stiff fight for +it, but they outnumbered us.” + +At the sound of McNally's voice Katherine started guiltily. It had not +occurred to her that the matter would be discussed downstairs; usually +her father's private conversations were held in his den on the second +floor. She wondered whether she ought to make herself known. + +Then she heard McNally again, answering a low-spoken question from her +father. + +“He was a good man, or perhaps you would call him a bad one. He was +just getting down to work on the vault door when West and his gang of +Pinkertons broke in on him and nailed him.” + +Another question from Porter. + +“No, Porter, they are on to us now. You see, the books are gone, and +there's no use in trying to get hold of that end of the road; but we can +seize it from this end and get everything except their building.” + +With cheeks burning and with conscience troubling, Katherine rose and +stood before the window. + +“I didn't intend to put myself in your way,” she said, laughing +nervously, “but I couldn't help hearing.” + +Looking in through the dim light Katherine thought she saw McNally +start. After a brief but embarrassing pause Porter spoke, using the tone +Katherine associated with the stern but kindly rebukes of her childhood. + +“Did you hear all we said, Katherine?” + +“Most of it, I'm afraid.” + +“You understand, dear, that this is very confidential business?” + +“Yes, dad.” With an impulsive start Katherine seated herself on the low +sill of the window and clasped her hands in her lap. “I wish you would +let me talk it over with you. You know I am interested in your affairs, +dad. And,” hesitatingly, “maybe I can help you.” + +For a space all three were silent. Katherine was leaning back in a pose +that brought out all her unconscious beauty. The waning light fell full +upon her, and the sunset seemed to be faintly reflected in her face. Her +hair was coiled above her forehead in easy disorder. + +McNally, sitting back in the shadow, looked fixedly at her, and as he +looked it seemed to him that her beauty spiced the atmosphere. He found +himself drawing in his breath keenly and almost audibly, and gripping +the arms of the easy-chair: with a sudden half-amused feeling of +boyishness he relaxed his grip and leaned back comfortably. It was +some time since the introspective Mr. McNally had found it necessary to +reprove himself for such a slip of demeanor. + +“I couldn't help seeing what was going on,” continued Katherine. “And +you told me the other day that I had helped you some.” She turned +appealingly toward her father, who sat with head lowered, scowling at +the carpet. McNally broke the pause. + +“There is very little we can tell you, Miss Katherine. A business matter +of this importance is too complicated for any one who has not grown up +with the problems. It would involve the history of two railroads for +years back.” + +“Why is it,” asked Katherine, earnestly, “that a man never credits a +woman with common sense? I am not blind. I know that the M. & T. is a +feeder to C. & S.C., that it supplies us with coal, and that we could +earn and save money by making it a part of our system. Mr. Weeks is +fighting us for some reason, and we are planning to force the question. +Isn't that so?” + +“Where did you learn this, Katherine?” asked her father. + +“From no one particular source. You have told me a great deal yourself, +dad.” + +“The question is, Miss Katherine,” McNally said, “what good could you +possibly do? Without implying any doubt of your ability, you see our +course is already mapped out for us by circumstances. In fact, there +is only one way open that leads to a logical outcome. If we were in a +position where we needed tactful advice, you could undoubtedly be of +help, but just now what we want is a force of strong, aggressive men.” + +“Mr. McNally is right, dear,” said Porter. “Everything is decided, and +all we can do is to tend to business. This Weeks is following rather a +dishonorable course, and we are prepared to meet him; that is all.” + +Katherine leaned forward and twisted the curtain string around her +finger. + +“Is he really dishonest?” she asked. + +“Well, dear, that is a hard question. No man has a right to condemn +another without careful deliberation; but it happens that many business +dealings savor a little of underhand methods, and it looks to us as +though Mr. Weeks were not over particular.” + +“What has he done?” + +“Well, you see, dear--” + +Katherine broke in with unusual warmth. “Oh, I know what you are going +to say. Some more complications that I couldn't understand. Why won't +you tell me?” + +Porter arose. + +“We'll talk this over at some other time, Katherine. I have an +appointment with Judge Black for this evening, but I will be back before +long.” He added to McNally, “He came in on the 8.25. I'll leave you with +Katherine.” + +When he had gone there was a silence. Katherine felt that her father's +absence should alter the tone of the conversation, but she waited for +McNally to take the initiative. + +“What a glorious night,” he said at length, rising and coming to the +window. “Did you ever see such a lingering afterglow? Suppose we sit +outside.” + +Katherine rose and made room for McNally to step through the open +window. Together they walked across the veranda, McNally seating himself +on the railing, Katherine leaning against one of the stone columns. + +“How long have you been ambitious to be a business woman, Miss +Katherine?” + +“I hardly wish that. Only I like to share father's interests.” + +“Do you know, I like it. I like to see a woman show an independent +interest in important affairs. Nowadays not only young girls but women +of position seem to care for nothing but the frivolous. I don't know but +what our pioneer ancestors got more out of life, when the woman and her +husband worked side by side.” + +“Will you tell me about the M. & T. business, Mr. McNally?” + +“I hardly feel that I can, Miss Katherine. To my mind that rests with +your father.” + +“Probably it does, but father still thinks me a child. He thinks I +cannot grasp the situation.” + +“Even if I felt at liberty to discuss it, I don't know what I could tell +you beyond a mere recital of dry detail. Personally, I should like to do +so, Miss Katherine; I honestly admire your independence, and I believe +that you might even be able to suggest some helpful ideas, but business +does not concern itself with the personal equation.” + +Katherine looked thoughtfully at McNally's shadowed face. She was a +little surprised with herself that she should so persist, but it did +not occur to her to stop. Deep behind her desire to be honest with her +father was a desire to prove that Harvey was, after all, in the right. +She did not recognize this, she did not even know it, but Harvey's +personality had taken on hers a vital grip that was as yet too strong, +too firm, too close at hand to be realized. As for McNally, his +intention to evade was too evident to be overlooked. He was dodging +at every turn, and it was becoming clear to her that he was concealing +facts which it would not do to disclose. And this suggested that her +father was doing the same. The bit of conversation she had overheard +came back to her, and as she thought it over it sounded odder than when +she had first heard it. Why should her father wish to seize the road? If +it belonged to Mr. Weeks, and if he did not care to sell, what right had +her father or any one else to take it by force? She had been looking +out over the lawn, but now she turned and fixed her eyes intently on +McNally's plump, smooth-shaven face. He was looking toward her, but +seemed not to see her. Instead there was the shadow of a smile in his +eyes which suggested air-castles. + +“Mr. McNally,” she said abruptly, “if we want the M. & T. road, why +don't we buy it and pay for it?” + +McNally started. During the long silence he had been feasting on +Katherine's beauty. He was not a young man, but as he gazed at the +earnest young face before him, and at the masses of shining hair, +half in shadow, half in light, he felt a sudden loneliness, a sudden +realization of what such a woman could be to him, what an influence she +might have upon his life. And losing for the moment the self-poise that +was his proudest accomplishment, Mr. McNally stammered. + +“Oh,” he said, “we couldn't--it wouldn't do--” + +From the change in every line of Katherine's pose he knew that he had +said enough. She had turned half away from him and was standing rigid, +looking out into the night. Glancing at her dimly outlined profile, +McNally could see that her lips were pressed closely together. He pulled +himself together and stood up. + +“Why not go in and have some music?” he asked. “This conversation is too +serious for such an evening.” + +Katherine bowed and led the way into the house. As they passed through +the library toward the piano she paused to turn the electric-light +key. With the flood of light Katherine's ease returned, and she laughed +lightly as she pointed to a gaudily decorated sheet of music on the +piano. + +“Shocking, isn't it?” she said. “That's the kind of music we play down +here in the country. We need your influence to keep us from degenerating +musically. Play me something good.” + +McNally glanced at her with a laugh. + +“Coon songs, eh?” he replied. “Well, some of them aren't so bad.” He sat +down at the instrument and let his hands slip over the keys. Katherine +sank upon the broad couch in the corner. She was apparently her old +self, friendly and interested in Mr. McNally and his music, but there +was nevertheless a distinct change. McNally felt the difference and +tried to throw it off, but the force of the situation grew upon him. +Slowly he realized that in spite of her pretensions she was not really +in sympathy either with him or with her father. He struck into a Liszt +rhapsody with all the fervor he could muster. + +McNally was a good musician. He possessed the power, lacking in many +better pianists, of using music as a medium to connect his own and his +listener's moods; but to-night he fell short, and he knew it. He stole a +glance at Katherine. She looked exactly as usual, but still there was +a difference that baffled him. He threw all his art into the music. He +labored to color it with sincerity and strength. But all the while he +knew that the ground was lost. What he did not know was that Katherine +was passing through a crisis, and that her thoughts were miles away from +him and his rhapsody. He ended with unusual brilliancy, and she smiled +with pleasure and thanked him simply, but still he felt the change. +Then Porter came in, and after a brief general conversation Katherine +withdrew. + +She did not go at once to her room. Instead, she slipped out on the +little second-floor balcony and sat down to be alone and to think. She +had made an honest effort to throw her interest with her father and with +what she believed to be her duty, and now that the evening was gone she +had nothing to show for it. For a very few moments she wondered at it +all, and at the fate which seemed to draw her toward Harvey. Then, as +the thought of him again took concrete form, and as the last two days +with him came back to her mind, her whole heart went out to him, and +she was startled, frightened at the strength of his hold upon her. For +a moment she gave herself up to dreams, dreams of a better, sweeter +existence than any she had dared to imagine, then came the thought of +her father, and Katherine broke down. + +Downstairs, McNally and Porter sat for a long time with only a desultory +conversation. Then McNally said,-- + +“Porter, I envy you a daughter like that.” + +“She is a good girl,” Porter replied. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +TRAIN NO. 14 + +The fight for the possession of the Manchester and Truesdale Railroad +divides itself naturally into two acts. During the first week, while it +would be absurd to say that the acts of either side were legal, all the +proceedings had worn the cloak of law. But now matters had come to a +deadlock. Judge Grey was both able and willing to undo any or all of the +acts of Judge Black, and conversely. The last event of the first act was +the attempt on Tuesday morning of the C. & S.C. people, armed with writs +from Black, to seize the books of the company. They were courteously +received and the vaults were thrown open to their inspection; but as the +books had been spirited away the night before, the search was fruitless. +Porter and McNally had been beaten at their own game, and they withdrew +their forces to Truesdale. The fight was to be kept up on other lines. + +Wednesday morning, No. 7 on the C. & S.C. brought down a much larger +number of passengers for Truesdale than ordinarily came on that train. +They climbed down to the station platform from different cars, and +regarded each other with studied indifference, but there was something +homogeneous about the crowd that drew upon it the frankest stares of +the station loafers. There were no women or children among them, they +carried no baggage, and there was an air about them, carefully repressed +but still discernible, which suggested that if any one were looking for +trouble they were the men to whom to apply. They seemed to be trying to +attract as little attention as possible, but they were followed by +many curious glances, as they straggled in a long irregular line up the +street toward the Truesdale Hotel. + +Katherine had driven into town that morning, and from her high trap she +watched the spectacle with amused interest. Seeing McNally coming out +of the hotel office she pulled up her horses and nodded to him with a +peremptory cordiality which left him no escape from coming to speak to +her. + +“So war is declared,” she said laughingly, nodding toward the rear guard +who were disappearing in the hotel entrance. “I see you are massing your +troops. Is that the entire army, or only a division?” + +McNally tried to utter a protest, but she went on unheeding. “I think +they're too absurdly comical for words. They try so hard to look as if +they weren't spoiling for a fight.” + +“Miss Porter,” said McNally, seriously, “your father's interests are at +stake now and we must be discreet.” + +“I suppose so,” she said; “but really those men are irresistibly funny.” + +She gathered up the reins and the horses started, but as they moved away +she turned and called back to him,-- + +“Be sure and come out to luncheon--that is, if you don't go to the +front.” + +The words troubled McNally. Only two days before he had been dragged +out of his hiding-place in the Manchester station and kicked downstairs. +This experience still occupied a large place in his thoughts, and he +took Katherine's remark as a reflection on his personal courage. Though +he had no idea of “going to the front,” he decided not to go to the +Porters' for luncheon. + +All that morning new people kept streaming into Truesdale. No. 22 +brought in McDowell, a division superintendent on the C. & S.C. and +other less important employees of the same road came in on every train. +All over the city was the exciting premonition that something was going +to happen. The army, as Katherine had called it, was reenforced by two +fresh detachments brought in on the C. & S.C. from no one knew just +where, but they were carefully guarded from being too much in evidence, +and there was not the least disorder. When noon came and nothing had +happened the tension relaxed a little, and the town returned to its +accustomed quiet. + +At the M. & T. station, however, the excitement increased, manifesting +itself in many ways. The trains came in and went out on their scheduled +time, and the routine work went on without variation, but there was a +nervous alertness evident everywhere. Train crews stood in little knots +about the platform and yards, speculating about the fight whose issue +meant much to each of them, but in which they had not as yet been able +to take a part. At one forty-five No. 14, which leaves Truesdale at two +o'clock for Tillman City, St. Johns, and Manchester, backed down to the +station to take on its passengers. Carse, the conductor, stood near the +cab talking to the engineer and the fireman, keeping all the while an +eye on the passengers. + +“We're getting a big crowd to-day,” he observed. “That's McDowell of the +C. & S.C. getting in the rear coach there. He's a mean brute. Ain't you +glad we ain't under him, Downs?” + +The engineer nodded emphatically, and climbing down from the cab, stood +beside the conductor. “Seems to me,” he said, “there are a lot of C. & +S.C. boys taking this train. I've spotted three or four already.” + +“Say,” exclaimed Carse, “do you suppose they're going back to Manchester +to have another shot at the old man? I brought them back from there +yesterday on No. 5, and they were the sickest crowd you ever saw. The +old man can give them just about all they want.” + +He paused and glanced at his watch. “We pull out in thirty seconds,” he +said. And at two o'clock No. 14 started northward on what was to prove +a most eventful run in the history of the M. & T. The train rattled over +the yard switches, slid creaking under the brakes down to the river, +rumbled across the bridge, and then toiled up the first of the long +grades between Truesdale and Sawyerville. + +Carse was collecting tickets in the second car when suddenly it thrilled +and trembled, and the train, with grinding squealing brakes, came to a +stop. The conductor was all but thrown from his feet, but he staggered +to the platform, and leaping down ran toward the engine, followed by an +excited crowd of passengers. + +“What's the matter?” he demanded of Downs, whom he found clambering out +of the cab. + +“That's what I want to know,” answered the engineer. “Didn't you pull +the signal cord?” + +“No,” said Carse, looking puzzled. “I wonder what's up.” + +At that moment a man came forward from the group of passengers: it was +McDowell. “I signalled you to stop,” he said. + +Carse waited an instant for him to go on, and then asked impatiently, +“Well, what's wrong?” + +“Nothing that I know of,” said McDowell, easily. “I wanted the train to +stop.” + +Carse stepped toward him angrily. “I don't know whether you're drunk +or not,” he said, “but that's a damned poor kind of a joke. You'll find +that out as soon as we get to Sawyerville.” + +“Oh, no, I won't,” said McDowell. “I'm superintendent of this road, and +the first thing I'm going to do is to fire you. Haven,”--he called to +one of the group behind him,--“you can take this train to Manchester.” + +Another man pushed into the circle. He was Stewart, the sheriff of +Evelyn County. “Mr. McDowell is quite right. Mr. Frederick McNally, the +receiver of the road, appointed him this morning. And I now serve on you +a writ from Judge Black--” + +“See here,” interrupted Carse, “are you sheriff of Evelyn County or +of the whole United States? You'd better keep out of this; the county +line's about half a mile back.” + +“We're wasting time,” said McDowell, shortly. “James and Mangan, take +the engine. We'll take charge of this train, sir, county or no county.” + +“Not if I can help it,” said Carse, under his breath. Then shouting, +“Get away, boys; don't mind me,” he sprang upon McDowell, hitting out +swift and hard, and in a second the two men were clinched and rolling in +the sand. Downs took the hint and, leaping into the cab, let off the +air brake and seized the throttle, while Berg, his big fireman, wrenched +free from the two men who tried to hold him and rushed toward the cab. +For a moment it looked as though No. 14 was going to get away. + +But the first detachment of Mr. McNally's army was not at hand for +nothing. Berg was pulled down from the step he had succeeded in +reaching, and a blow from behind stretched him unconscious beside the +track. Downs caught up the shovel which lay at his feet, and brought +it down hard on a man who was climbing over the tender; then without +turning he drove the handle squarely into the face of another who was +standing on the step and trying to clutch his legs. But the odds were +too great, and in a moment he was rushed back against the fire-box, and +his arms were pinioned fast. McDowell had been freed from his assailant +by two of his brawny supporters, and he rose to his feet with some +difficulty; the blood was streaming down his face, but he was quite +cool. Seeing that resistance was at an end, he called to the men in the +engine:-- + +“Let up on that man; we don't want to kill him. Bring him down here.” + +A moment later, he said: “Put bracelets on all three of them and take +them into the smoker. Some of you stay around and see that they don't +do any more mischief.” Then turning to the men he had already ordered to +take charge of the train, he said: “All right, boys, let her go. We're +nearly ten minutes late.” + +McNally's plans were well laid; so well laid that McDowell's mistake in +not stopping the train soon enough did not prevent their being carried +out successfully. The sheriff of Malden County had been told what was +expected of him, and he was waiting on the platform of the Sawyerville +station when No. 14 pulled in. There had been no warning, there was +no possibility of resistance, and everything moved as smoothly as +clockwork. The writs were served, the telegraph office seized, and the +M. & T. employees about the station replaced by McDowell's “boys” almost +before the dazed incumbents knew what was happening. The new telegraph +operator wired to McNally, who had already taken possession of the +Truesdale terminal, telling him briefly of the fight for the train and +the capture of Sawyerville. McNally sent back brief instructions for the +conduct of the rest of the raid. They were told to make no attempt +to keep schedule time, but to go slowly and cautiously, and to use as +little violence as possible. Altogether McDowell had reason to feel well +satisfied when he came out on the station platform ready to take his +train on its unique journey up the road. + +There stood near him a number of passengers gathered in an excited +group, discussing the fight, the delay of the train, and the somewhat +remote chance of getting to Manchester. One of them, a very stout man +with deep-set, watery eyes and a florid complexion, recognized the +Superintendent and turned to him. + +“Are we likely to have to wait as long as this at every station?” he +asked. + +“I guess so,” answered McDowell, shortly. + +“This is an outrage,” exclaimed the other, angrily. “I took this train +for the purpose of getting to Manchester.” + +“You'd better get aboard then,” said McDowell. “We're going to start +now.” + +His coolness exasperated the stout man, and he shouted after the +Superintendent, “I won't submit to this. I tell you, you'll be sorry for +it before I get through with you.” + +McDowell paid no heed to the threat, and nodded Haven to go ahead; but a +young telegraph operator, whose services were to be required further up +the road, heard the words and shouted to the angry man:-- + +“If you don't want to take the train, there's probably a livery stable +here, or else you can go to the hotel. It's a gold cure, but I guess +they'd take you in.” + +McDowell laughed and went into the car. He did not hear what his former +passenger answered, and he did not care. He would probably have been +less amused if he had known that the man was none other than State +Senator “Sporty” Jones. It does not pay to enrage any man wantonly, +and especially not a man who makes it his main principle in life to get +even. And as any of his circumspect associates could inform you, Senator +Sporty Jones was just such a man. + +It was nearing six o'clock when No. 14 slowed down in the southern +outskirts of Tillman City. The army, though depleted, was jubilant, and +more than made up in _esprit du corps_ what it had lost in numbers. The +raid had so far been completely successful: all the stations had been +seized, and the south-bound trains they had met had been held up and +placed in charge of C. & S.C. employees. There had been no resistance +worth mentioning, and they had prevented any warning of their coming +from going up the line ahead of them. Tillman City was lying an +unsuspecting prey, though fairly in their clutches. + +Bill Stevens, the agent at Tillman, knew that something had gone wrong, +for No. 14 was later than usual, and had not been reported from the last +two stations; so when the drooping semaphore told him that she was in +the block, he went out on the platform to find out what had happened. As +the train came panting up to the station he saw two strange men in the +cab instead of Downs and Berg, and this puzzled him more than ever. + +The sheriff was the first man off the train; he walked straight up to +the agent, and in two minutes the formalities were over. Stevens and his +subordinates were discharged, and the ticket office and baggage room +put in charge of the new employees with a celerity born of practice. +A number of deputies under McDowell's orders scattered out to take +possession of the roundhouse, the freight depot, and the yards. + +Still standing on the platform in an excited crowd of raiders, former +employees, and station loafers, was the agent. He was thinking fast, +for he saw the importance of getting word to Manchester of what was +happening along the line. The telegraph line was in the hands of the +enemy, but a locomotive--It was worth a trial, anyway. There were three +at Tillman: 33 that had just brought in No. 14, 7 on a siding waiting to +take the train to Manchester, and 10, the regular yard engine. The two +passenger engines were out of the question, for they were already well +guarded, but the little switching locomotive lay at the northern end +of the yard, and had not as yet been seized by the deputies. In the +confusion, and aided by the gathering dusk of the early October evening, +something might be done. + +Glancing around, Stevens saw Murphy, the hostler, standing at his elbow. +Without turning toward him he spoke softly. + +“Murphy,” he said, “slip out of this crowd and follow me. I'm going to +try to get away on 10. I want you to throw a switch for me.” + +The hostler nodded without a word, and threaded his way after the agent +to the edge of the platform. Once out of the glare of the station lights +there was less need for caution, and the two men set out at a rapid walk +toward the north end of the yards. + +Suddenly a deputy came out from behind a freight car and laid a +detaining hand on the agent's arm. + +“What are you up to?” he demanded. + +There was no word of reply, but Murphy's fist shot out, landing dully on +the man's jaw, and without an outcry he sank inert on the sand. + +The agent darted forward, keeping out of the heavy sand by bounding +along the irregularly laid ties, and in a moment he was climbing into +the cab of the switch engine. + +“Thank God! there's steam and water,” he thought, and throwing over the +reversing lever he grasped the throttle and came backing rapidly down +the siding. + +It was too dark for the men at the station to see perfectly what had +happened, but they saw enough to excite their suspicion, and No. 33, +which had already uncoupled from the train, ran up the main track to +investigate. James and Mangan and a couple of deputies were in the cab. + +Murphy had already thrown the switch and was standing beside it, holding +a coupling pin in his hand, awaiting developments. The two locomotives +were running right at each other, and unless somebody changed his mind +very promptly a collision was inevitable; but the agent was in such a +frame of mind that a smash-up was rather to his liking than otherwise, +and he pulled the throttle a little wider open. He would waste no steam +whistling, but grasping the hand rail he swung out from the cab and +waved his free arm. + +“Look out!” he yelled, “I'm coming.” + +Furthermore it was obvious to the men in 33 that he meant to keep on +coming, and as none of them had any wish to try conclusions, even with +little No. 10, the big locomotive stopped short and went backing down +the track, the deputies shouting to their comrades at the station for +reenforcements. + +No. 10 slowed down as she backed on to the main track, and as Murphy +threw the switch she stopped and then moved forward. Stevens waited for +Murphy, who left the switch open and climbed into the cab. Then with a +clear track before her No. 10 went tearing down the long grade as fast +as her dumpy little drivers would carry her. + +Halfway to Byron is a milk shed with a short siding, and when they +reached it Stevens shut down and stopped with a jerk. + +“Get out,” he said to Murphy, “and throw over that switch and put out +the lamp.” + +As they started on again he said dryly, “When they strike that, it may +teach 'em to go slow for the rest of the run.” + +It was just six-seventeen by the station clock when Mason, the operator +at Byron, heard No. 10 coming in. He ran out on the platform, but +Stevens waved him back. + +“Get in there,” he said as he dropped from the cab. “I want you to send +a message quick.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +A CAPTURE AT BRUSHINGHAM + +On the same Wednesday morning Jawn Donohue was oiling the old switch +engine preparatory to making up a train of coal cars. Since his ride +with the President, Jawn had been even more silent than before. His +work had been done with the same gruff independence, and his fireman had +received the usual quota of stern rebukes; in fact, Jawn was outwardly +so like his old self that none suspected him of emotion, but Jawn knew +how thin was the veneer. It is hard upon a man to lose ground in the +great struggle. Conscious of his ability, proud in his experience, Jawn +grew daily more bitter at the prospect before him, and more hostile to +his superiors. For a few days after the ride he had hoped for some word; +he had felt that such an appeal as the one he had made to Jim Weeks +should be productive of some notice, if not of a definite result. But +as the week wore away, and no word came, his heart sank. Every day he +rattled the dumpy little engine about the division yards, chewing the +stem of his pipe, and hardening his heart against the world. He spent +Sunday in his room at the boarding-house, for he had no family. Monday +and Tuesday passed in worse than solitude, and when Wednesday morning +came, and with it a message from the division superintendent, Jawn, in +spite of his hopes, was taken by surprise. The message was addressed to +the agent, and was very brief:-- + + Send J. Donohue and fireman to Manchester at once. + +Jawn and his fireman took 16 for Manchester. Beyond a brief word Jawn +had said nothing, but his heart was disturbed. He was sure that it +couldn't mean discharge, for they would not call him north for that--a +word and a check would have settled it. It was hardly likely that one +of the passenger engineers was to be reduced in his favor; Jawn knew the +inside history of every man's connection with the road, and he could see +no reason for a change. No, as he worked it over and over in his mind +during the three-hour ride, he began to suspect that there was special +work to be done. + +If Jawn had been present at the brief scene in Mattison's office that +morning, or if there had been a friend at court to tell him of it, he +would have been a happy man. For while Jim Weeks, aggressive as ever, +was organizing his forces for the defence of the road (Jim foresaw what +Porter's next move in the natural course of events would be), Mattison +had turned to the division superintendent, and said: “Who can you put +on the engine, if we have to come to rough work? The nerviest man +we've got.” And before the other could reply, Jim had turned from a +conversation with Harvey to say: “Donohue's got to take out that train. +He's on a switch engine at Tillman.” + +Jim was continually surprising his subordinates with his intimate +knowledge of the details of management. Mattison had long been +accustomed to his ways, but he gave Jim a glance of wonder before he +repeated the order to the division chief. And so Jawn was called to +Manchester as the nerviest man on the road. + +In the meantime a scene not unlike that at Truesdale was being enacted +in and about the Manchester station. There was the same reticence, and +the studied quiet and perfect discipline were even more pronounced; for +with Jim and Harvey to issue orders, and with Mattison and Mallory to +execute them, the chance of a slip or a misunderstanding was too slight +to be considered. A long train of tourist cars was made up shortly after +noon and backed into the train shed, where it lay awaiting orders. Jim +had no very definite idea of using it, at least until force was the only +expedient; but he had been through too many fights to be caught off +his guard. Instructions were wired from the despatcher's office to +the operators all along the line, ordering them to report promptly any +irregularity or suspicious circumstance. Meanwhile the regular trains +for Truesdale pulled out through the yards and went on their way. + +When Jawn came into the Superintendent's office at two o'clock he found +a group of men standing in nervous attitudes, all evidently awaiting +orders. A boy stopped him and asked his business. + +“I want to see Mr. Mattison,” said Jawn, removing his pipe and holding +it awkwardly: Jawn, though at home on an engine, was ill at ease in an +office. + +“Can't see him,” snapped the boy; “he's busy.” + +“He sent for me.” + +“Name, please.” + +“Donohue.” + +“Sit down, Mr. Donohue.” + +Jawn sat down in a corner and the boy disappeared. In a short time he +returned and led Jawn to Mattison's desk. Mattison wasted no time, but +told him the situation in a few sentences. “Now, Donohue,” he said, +in conclusion, “you understand, do you, that we are putting a big +responsibility on you? Mr. West will be in command, and you will be +subject to his orders without question; but if for any reason you should +have to act rapidly, or should be thrown on the defensive, I shall +expect you to do what is best for the road. Run no unnecessary risks, +but remember, we must hold the line at any cost--if we lose an engine +doing it. Do you understand?” + +Jawn, standing beside the oak desk, looked down at the Superintendent +and nodded gravely. Mattison returned the look with a brief searching +gaze, then he turned to his work, saying, “Very well, you may go.” + +Harvey was all over the station. The strain of the last two days had +told upon his nerves, but the prospect of a conflict buoyed him up. +He had a long talk with Mallory, in which a campaign was mapped out as +fully as was possible in the circumstances. It had been decided to hold +the men ready to board the train at a moment's notice; but Harvey, as +three o'clock came, ordered them aboard, for he realized that the longer +the delay the greater would be the need of prompt action. So the long +line filed out across the platform to the waiting cars, and the men made +themselves comfortable for a long wait. Mallory stationed two of his +own men in each car with orders to maintain strict discipline. In the +baggage car were stored extra chains, hawsers, coupling links, crowbars, +patent frogs, and every other device which, in Mattison's estimation, +could be used in case of extreme circumstances, and there were chairs +for Harvey and his lieutenants. + +Later Harvey walked up to the engine, where Jawn and his fireman were +oiling and polishing. + +“Everything all right, Donohue?” he asked. + +Jawn growled and looked back at the coal in the tender. + +“She ain't much of an engine,” he replied. + +Harvey looked her over. She was an ordinary light yard engine with a +footboard in place of the pilot and with a sloping tank. He called to +the yard master who stood near. + +“Haven't you got a better engine than this, Pratt?” + +Pratt came across the platform. + +“I understood you wanted an old one,” he said. + +“We do,” replied Harvey; “but we want one that will hold a little water, +and one that can make time if necessary.” + +“Shall I change, sir?” + +“It rests with the engineer. Donohue, can you do anything with this +engine?” + +Jawn leaned against the cab and slowly shook his head. + +“Get another, then,” said Harvey, and as the change was effected Jawn's +heart was won. In an unreasoning way he promptly attributed his changed +condition to Harvey; for in spite of his gruff shell the kernel of +Jawn's nature was keenly susceptible to kindness, and to him a good +engine and plenty of authority was the greatest kindness in life. + +For two hours the train waited. Then, at five o'clock, a detail was +sent into the restaurant, and the men were supplied with sandwiches and +coffee, eating without leaving their seats. In half an hour all were +fed, and they stretched out on the cane seats as comfortably as their +crowded condition permitted. The long wait did not improve tempers, and +it was a sullen, weary train load that counted the minutes on into the +dusk. Jawn sat on his high seat and dozed. + +The suspense was even more tense in the offices on the second floor +of the station. Jim and Harvey spent most of the time in the private +office, going over every possible combination of circumstances, Jim +giving Harvey explicit directions for each case--when to use force, when +not, when to call on the law, and when to send for aid. Occasionally Jim +would call in Mattison to ask a question concerning some detail of the +road, or he would send for Mallory to explain more fully his directions. +It was plain that Jim desired to leave nothing to chance, now that the +real struggle was on, but to throw all his available resources into +the conflict. Mattison had a map drawn for Harvey, which showed every +station, curve, switch, and siding; this Harvey studied during the lulls +in the conversation, and as he already was familiar with all but the +minor details of construction, he soon had his information upon a +working basis. At six-fifteen Mattison came in. + +“Mr. Weeks,” he said, “the despatcher reports something the matter. For +two or three hours, he says, the local reports have been confused and +unsatisfactory. A few minutes ago he called up Tillman City and hasn't +yet succeeded in getting any reply. The local men are sending in train +reports, but something isn't right. He's got a notion that they aren't +our old men.” + +“Tell them to try again,” said Jim. “Ask them something a new man +wouldn't know.” + +Mattison left the office and hurried to the stairway. On the landing he +met a newsboy who was running up, calling:-- + +“Shcago Even' Papers! Extry! All about big railroad war!” + +Mattison seized a paper and glanced at the headings. “Fight for M. & +T.,” he read. “Trunk Line Gobbles Small Road.” His eye ran over the +article; it was dated that afternoon from Truesdale. He turned and ran +up the stairs, dashing into Jim's office and spreading the paper on the +table. + +“It's up to us,” he said. “They've been at work all the afternoon.” + +As he spoke a boy came running into the office. + +“Message from Byron, sir.” + +Mattison snatched the paper and read aloud,--- + + C. & S.C. train leaving Tillman north seizing road. + + STEVENS. + +“That's the Tillman agent,” said Mattison. “What's he doing at Byron?” + +“Probably had to run for it,” responded Harvey, putting on his hat +and buttoning his coat. “That means fast work. Clear the track for me, +Mattison.” + +“Wait a minute,” said Jim. “Have we any trains north of Byron?” + +“No.” + +“Then don't send any orders. They would warn the other side. No, go +ahead and beat them if you have to break their heads.” + +As Harvey dashed out of the office Jim's eyes sparkled. He liked to +do his own fighting, and it was half regretfully that he turned to the +Superintendent. + +[Illustration: HARVEY'S MAP OF THE M. & T.] + +“If they're as near as that, Mattison, it means trouble. You'd better +collect another gang and send it out after West. Take men off the +trains, out of the yards, anywhere you can get them.” + +The wheels were soon in motion again, and another train backed under the +iron roof and slowly filled with brawny men. + +Harvey swung aboard his train and it started with a jerk, rolling +rapidly over the network of tracks, past the switch tower, under the +signal bridge, and out toward the open country. The little army was not +sullen now. Figures sat erect, eyes flashed, young men spoke eagerly, +older ones gruffly, and through the train ran a steady murmur of +inquisitive wonder. Apparently, save for a few dozen sticks and clubs, +the men were not armed, but many hip pockets bulged suspiciously. + +In the baggage car Harvey and Mallory were talking earnestly. Mallory +was for travelling slowly lest they should encounter a loose rail or an +open switch, but Harvey disagreed. He spread the map out on a box and +rested a finger on the dot marked Tillman City. + +“There they are,” he said, “or were a few minutes ago, and they're +coming right toward us. Now, to keep us from getting word they have to +stop at every telegraph station, and that takes time. We've got a clear +track and can travel fully twice as fast as they can. Here”--he moved +his finger up the line of the road--“here at Brushingham is a long +siding. I want to make that siding before they do.” + +“Why?” + +“Because we must pass them there.” + +“They aren't going to lie up and let us run by.” + +“Yes, they are,” said Harvey. “Wait a moment.” He called to a brakeman +who stood at the door, “Go up to the engine and tell the engineer to get +to the siding at Brushingham at full speed.” + +The man nodded and ran forward. Another moment and those in the baggage +car felt a jerk and a lift, and soon they were rattling over the rails +with sway and roll. Harvey, meantime, was explaining to Mallory a plan +which made that veteran chuckle merrily. His eyes wandered to the heap +of chains, ropes, and iron piled on each side of the rear door, and he +chuckled again. But Harvey's face was serious. + +“It's something of a question whether we can get there in time, Mallory. +It's a sixty-five mile run for us to thirty-eight for them. We have all +the advantage, of course, but there won't be any time to spare.” He drew +out his watch and timed the clicks of the rails. “He's hitting it up in +good style.” + +“What are we making?” + +“About fifty, and pulling up all the time. It won't take us much over an +hour at this rate, and I don't believe that they can make it in anything +like that time. There are a lot of little stations north of Tillman, and +they've got to stop at every one.” + +Nevertheless, as the minute hand crept around the watch, the two men +began to peer out through the side window. It was dark now, and as the +landmarks were not too familiar either to Harvey or to Mallory, they +were unable to get their bearings. + +“Where are we?” Harvey called to the brakeman. + +“Getting into St. Johns,” was the reply. + +Sure enough, in another moment colored yard lights were whizzing by. +There was a great clatter as they took the switches, then a row of +streaked electric lights, a dim impression of streets and of clanging +bells, a shriek from the locomotive, and again they were in the open. +A few minutes later Harvey gave orders that a brakeman climb forward on +the engine ready to throw the Brushingham switch. Soon the car jarred +and struggled under the air brake, and then slowed down, grinding and +pounding, almost to a stop. The brakes were released, and the train +rolled easily out beyond the station on to the long siding. Harvey +pulled the signal cord. + +“Now, Mallory,” he said, as the train came to a standstill, “we can go +ahead.” + +Mallory picked up a patent frog from the floor, and with Harvey and the +brakeman swung out of the car and ran down the track. From the windows +projected a long row of heads, but no questions were asked as the three +men ran forward. A short distance ahead of the engine they stopped. Away +to the south a small bright light rounded into view. + +“Here she comes,” said Mallory. + +Harvey made no reply, and the frog was adjusted to the east rail of the +main track. Then they went back and clambered aboard the engine. Mallory +ordered a squad of men forward, and stationed some on the pilot and +running board, others on the tender and front platform. The light grew +slowly larger, sending out pointed rays and throwing a shine on the +rails. There was the sound of a bell and of the exhaust, and the train +pulled slowly toward the bleak little station. Suddenly, when within +speaking distance, the approaching engine struck the patent frog and +left the rails with a jar and a scrape, ploughing her nose into the +slag. + +“Go ahead,” said Harvey. + +Jawn pulled the throttle lever, and the long train moved slowly +southward. No. 14 was not full now. The process of dropping men at every +station had left only about half the employees, who clustered in the +forward cars and looked curiously at the passing train. At a shouted +order from Mallory, one of his men dropped off with a squad at his back +and took possession of the wreck, while Harvey, flushed with victory, +moved on to undo the work of the afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +DEUS EX MACHINA + +As Senator Sporty Jones stood on the Sawyerville platform and watched +No. 14 vanishing round a curve, his rage against the Superintendent +cooled somewhat and hardened into a determination to make somebody pay. +The more he thought of it the clearer it grew that the “somebody” should +be a bigger man than McDowell, though Sporty meant to get even with him, +too, some day. He knew, as did every one who had read the newspapers, +the broad outlines of the fight between Weeks and Porter for the road. +As he thought it over, the problem seemed to grow more complicated. The +Senator hated the two men about equally and had a long score against +each of them; for though both were lobbyists on a large scale, neither +of them had thought him worth conciliating. He was afraid lest in trying +to hurt one he might help the other. + +He was capable of quick, clear thinking, and as he ran over in his mind +what he knew of the fight, he saw that what encouraged these men so +openly to resort to violence was a judicial deadlock. There was just one +force which could profitably be appealed to now, the State Executive. + +He walked slowly down the rickety wooden steps and across the +road; then, after looking about irresolutely, he turned toward the +weather-beaten little hotel. + +Before he had gone far the deposed station agent overtook him. He was +smoking a cigarette with short, nervous puffs, and he fell in step with +the Senator, evidently relieved at having a chance to talk. + +“What did you think of that?” he asked. “Pretty sudden, wasn't it?” + +The Senator grunted a savage assent, and the agent went on:-- + +“Well, all I say is, these fellows needn't think they've got any cinch +until Jim Weeks has had his innings. He's going to have it, too. This +kind of a scrap is right in his line.” + +The Senator seemed to be listening, and the agent was encouraged to try +his hand at prophesying what would happen when Jim Weeks should come +down the line. When they reached the hotel both men paused, and the +Senator said affably,-- + +“Come in and have something.” + +“All right, if you mean ginger ale,” laughed the agent. “It's a +temperance house, with a gold cure on the side.” + +The disgust of Senator Sporty Jones was expressed with such blasphemous +force that the agent was moved to add,-- + +“You can get anything you want down in the next block.” + +“All right,” grunted the Senator. “Wait a minute, though; I want to +telephone.” + +“There ain't a telephone in town,” said the agent. “The line goes up +the other side of the river to Tillman. I don't believe you can find a +'phone nearer than Truesdale.” + +“How far's that?” asked the Senator, after an expressive pause. + +“'Bout fifteen miles by the river road. You have to go round by way of +Oakwood. It's going to rain, too,” he added, glancing at the clouded +sky. + +The look of annoyance on the Senator's face settled into one of +determination, and the agent began to fear lest the invitation to “have +something” had slipped from the great man's mind. + +The Senator asked slowly, “Is there such a thing as a livery stable in +this”--he gulped--“in this town?” + +“I guess old man Barnes could let you have some sort of a horse. He's +got a place just the other side of Hogan's. I'll go down there with you +if you like.” + +The parley with Barnes took only a few minutes, and at half-past three +the Senator drove down the main street and turned west toward the river +road. His vehicle was a light delivery wagon with a canopy over it, and +was drawn by a ragged old white horse, which, according to the livery +man, was an exceptional animal. + +“The General's an aristocrat, he is,” said Barnes. “I might say a +thoroughbred. I hate like poison to let him out to a stranger, but I let +you take him because I see you understand a horse.” + +There was no flicker of intelligence in the agent's face as he heard the +words, but when the Senator asked him to accompany him on the drive he +declined. “I want to be on hand,” he explained, “when Jim Weeks comes +down the line.” So Senator Jones started out alone on his drive to +Truesdale, and the agent watched him from the door of Hogan's saloon. +“Go along with him!” he thought. “I guess not. It'd be a circus, though, +to see what happens when they get to the river bridge.” Then, as Barnes +joined him on the steps, he added, “What do you suppose the General will +do to him?” + +“Oh, he won't hurt him,” answered Barnes. “He'll just turn around and +come home when he gets good and ready. Come in and have something.” + +The General took a violent dislike to the Senator. It annoyed him to +have people try to make him go whither he would not, and he shook his +head angrily in response to the impatient jerks at the reins. When the +Senator tried to accelerate the pace by whacking his toughened flanks +with the whip, he kicked up his heels derisively and then stumbled along +more wearily if possible than before. + +The miles crept by as slowly as he could wish, and he was pleased when +they passed a fork of the road and he knew he was being driven to the +river. He disliked rivers, and had long ago decided that he would never +cross one. That his resolution had once been broken was not his fault, +for they had dragged him over the Oakwood bridge at the end of a stout +rope; but this only made him firmer in his determination, and people who +drove him were wont to stay on the west side of the river. + +Old man Barnes had given the Senator no hint of this prejudice of the +aristocratic animal he was driving, so he had no foreboding of what was +going to happen. Now that he had made up his mind that it was worse than +useless to try to interfere with the General, he was jogging along in +comparative comfort, regardless of the rain which had grown from a fine +drizzle to a steady downpour. He thought the chances were in favor of +his reaching Truesdale and a telephone by midnight. He smiled at the +thought, for he had evolved a scheme that would disconcert both of the +contestants for the M. & T. alike, and would show them that he, State +Senator Sporty Jones, was not a man to be sneezed at. + +About a half a mile above the Oakwood Club House and in full view of it +the road crosses the river, and the Senator noticed the big, rambling +building on top of the hill, and wondered if they had a telephone there. +“I'll try and see, anyway,” he thought. + +The General turned willingly up the approach to the bridge, increasing +his speed to an almost respectable trot. When he reached the top he +stopped in his tracks and stared with disfavor at the worn planks before +him. The Senator snatched the whip from its socket and beat upon the +General until his arms were tired. At every blow the horse would kick +feebly, and then resume a droop-eared attitude, as though grieving over +the depravity of man. The Senator looked around helplessly, but there +was no aid in sight, so he climbed down from the wagon and walked +around to the bridle. The General may have suspected another attempt at +dragging, for a vicious snap of his yellow teeth caused the Senator to +step back out of reach, completely baffled. He stared an instant at the +solemn face before him and then shaking the whip he said,-- + +“You've got me down this time, damn you, but I'll--” + +The Senator stopped, his favorite threat unuttered, threw the whip into +the river and turning, walked slowly across the bridge, and as he went +the story he meant to tell over the 'phone to the Governor grew to +fearful proportions. As for the General, when he saw that the victory +was won, he turned about and sauntered back to Sawyerville. + +In the party of golfers whom the rain had driven from the links to the +shelter of the Oakwood Club was Katherine. She had gone once around the +short course and perversely enough her score was unusually good; but she +could not get her mind off the more exciting game which she knew must +be in progress along the railway line west of the river. Altogether she +welcomed the rain, and was glad when its increasing violence drove +them to the shelter of the club house. There at least she was near a +telephone. She had no disposition to make one of the merry group of men +and girls who were drying out before the crackling log fire, but after a +moment of hesitation she joined the circle. + +One of the men was standing by a window, peering through a field-glass +at the more ardent and impervious enthusiasts who were still following +the ball. + +“The rain's letting up a bit,” he said at length. “You can really see +things--hello!” + +The group before the fire turned toward him, attracted by the long +silence which followed the exclamation. They saw a look of puzzlement on +his face which gradually gave place to a broad grin. + +“What's up?” asked somebody. + +“By George,” he exclaimed, lowering the glass, “that's funny.” He raised +the glass again and this time his shoulders shook. + +“I didn't know anybody out on the links could be as funny as that,” one +of the girls observed. + +“He isn't on the links,” answered the man with the glass, “he's on +the bridge. And the horse is turning round and going back.” With which +singularly lucid preface, the young man told what he had seen of the +General's victory at the Oakwood bridge. + +It was about fifteen minutes later when Sporty appeared, dripping and +mud bespattered, but kept warm by glowing fires of indignation, and +vigorously demanded of the attendant the use of the telephone. At the +sound of his voice one of the older men turned quickly and approached +him with a word of greeting. “But what's the matter with you, man?” he +added, noting the Senator's sorry condition. + +“They're having a riot on the railroad,” answered Sporty. “Can I use +your 'phone?” + +“Sure,” answered the other. “Right this way,” and the two men crossed +the hall and disappeared in the office. A few minutes later the man came +back and rejoined the group. + +“He's State Senator Jones, Sporty Jones, you know. He says they're +having no end of a time over on the railroad. When I left him he seemed +to be trying to telephone all over the State at once.” + +“I've heard of him,” said Katherine, “but I've never met him. I wish +you'd bring him here after he gets through telephoning.” And the man +with some surprise said he would. + +The Senator did not reappear from the office for nearly an hour, and +in that time he worked fast. He began by calling up Representative Jim +Cleary of the Seventh District, a man with influence who happened to +be in the capital on business. The Senator wasted no oratory on him, he +simply told him what it was necessary to do. After that he talked with +other men about the State, and repeated what he had said to Jim +Cleary, suggesting to them the proper way for putting “pressure” on +the Governor. Then, having prepared his avalanche, he telephoned to +the executive mansion and asked for the Governor. He learned from the +Secretary that the Governor was busy, but would be at liberty in a few +minutes. + +“All right,” said Sporty. “Let me know when he's ready to talk to me.” + +He rang off and rose from his chair, stiffly, for the damp and the cold +had struck through. The man he knew appeared at his elbow, and leading +him in to the fire introduced him to those who were still grouped about +it, to Katherine last of all. + +“You must have had an afternoon full of experiences,” she said. + +“Yes,” answered the Senator. “I enjoyed my drive over from Sawyerville +immensely. The weather was somewhat unpleasant, but I had an excellent +horse and we made very good time, until we got a hot-box. I was obliged +to leave the vehicle with a farmer, and walked the last two miles.” + +“Indeed?” said Katherine. “But please tell me about the riot. It must +have been very exciting.” + +“I hardly think it would interest a lady,” said Sporty, uneasily. + +“Senator Jones,”--Katherine was speaking with much severity,--“I did not +think when I first saw you that you could prove so disagreeable.” + +Sporty beamed. “It wasn't very much of a riot,” he said. “They just +hit the fireman behind the ear and put handcuffs on the engineer, and +started out to grab the road. They'll have to fight for it.” + +“Was what they did legal?” she asked. + +“Oh, no; not at all. It's just a hold-up.” + +The Senator was saying rather more than he meant to, and he was glad +that the telephone bell broke off the conversation at this point. He +excused himself abruptly and went to have a talk with the Governor. + +Katherine walked to a window and stood staring out with unseeing eyes. +At last she turned to a man who stood near her and said:-- + +“I don't believe it's going to rain any more. Will you have them bring +up my trap, please?” + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +McNALLY's EXPEDIENT + +Katherine's casual acquaintances thought of her as a cool, unemotional +young woman, and when asked for their estimate of her would give it with +confidence that it was accurate. The few who knew her better were less +sure what they thought of her, and there was considerable diversity in +their opinions. She had a strong will and plenty of confidence in it. +Until she had found herself standing between Harvey West and her father, +she never had the least doubt that in any situation she would be able to +do what she wanted. But without knowing it she liked to let her impulses +direct her, and her confidence that her will could, if necessary, +overrule them gave them freer play than they would have had in a weaker +personality. She was keenly sensitive--and this she recognized--to the +atmosphere of her immediate environment. + +To-day the gray of the dripping sky and the sullen river and the +pasty macadam road seemed to have got into her thoughts and to pervade +everything. There was a feeling of eternity in the gathering twilight +as though there had never been anything else and never would be. But she +knew there had; it was only three days since she and Harvey had driven +along this road. She recalled the glisten of the sunlight on the river, +and the crimson of the hard maples stained by the first early frost, +and she knew it was not the sunshine nor the tingle in the air nor the +beautiful way in which Ned and Nick flew along stride for stride over +the hard white road, but something else, something quite different, +which had made her glad that Sunday morning. She looked straight ahead +and tried to imagine that not the wooden English groom, but Harvey, sat +beside her. Then realizing whither her imaginings were drifting, she +pulled herself up sharply. + +“You sentimental idiot!” she thought. + +The groom spoke. “Beg pardon, Miss Katherine?” and she knew she must +have thought aloud. + +Just then a black tree stump at the roadside seemed to spring out of the +ghostly twilight, and Nick, who never had the blues, amused himself by +shying at it. Ned caught the spirit of the lark and over the next mile +these two good friends of Katherine's supplied her with just the kind of +tonic she needed. + +It was late when she reached home and she had but a narrow margin of +time left in which to dress for dinner; but telling the groom not to +take the horses to the stable she hurried into the house and came out +a moment later with a handful of sugar. The two beautiful heads turned +toward her as she came down the steps and Nick gave a satisfied little +whicker. She fed them alternately, a lump at a time, talking to them +all the while in the friendly bantering way they liked. She was quite +impartial with the sugar, but while Ned with lowered head was sniffing +at her pockets for more, she laid her cheek against Nick's white, silky +nose and whispered to him:-- + +“I think I like you best to-night. You did just right to shy at that +stump. No, Ned, it wouldn't be good for you to eat any more sugar just +before dinner. Good-by. If it wouldn't shock father and dent the floor, +I'd take you into the house with me. But I don't suppose you'd like it, +though.” + +Katherine was glad she was late and that she had to dress in a hurry. +What she dreaded was being left alone with nothing to do but think. She +had gone over the ground again and again until she had lost her sense +of proportion. She had tried to believe that the raid was right and that +her father's methods were above reproach; she had tried to be unwavering +in her loyalty to his cause, but in spite of herself McNally's allusions +and the fragmentary conversations she had overheard raised doubts which +her father's evasions did not set at rest. In spite of herself her +sympathies swung to the square, straightforward, courageous young fellow +who had got into her heart without her knowing it. She had tried to +make herself believe her father's insinuations about Jim Weeks; but what +Harvey had told her, in his undiscriminating, hero-worshipping way, had +made too deep an impression for that. + +When she had finished dressing, as she stood before the mirror to take +a final survey, she addressed a parting remark to the figure in the +glass:-- + +“It won't do you any good to go on bothering this way. You haven't +anything to do now but go down to dinner and be as charming as possible, +particularly to Mr. McNally, whom you cordially detest. When the time +comes to do something, I hope you'll do it right.” + +It was just seven o'clock when she came down the stairs to be informed +by the butler that the gentlemen had not come home yet, and should he +serve dinner at once? + +Katherine waited nearly half an hour, trying to amuse herself with a +very pictorial magazine, and, finding that tiresome, by playing coon +songs at the piano. But the piano reminded her of Mr. McNally, and she +didn't want to think of him; so giving up trying to wait she ordered +dinner. + +Dining alone when you have made up your mind to it beforehand is not +an unmixed evil; but in Katherine's frame of mind it was about as +irritating as anything could be. When it was over she called for her +coffee in a big cup, and she drank it, black and bitter, with a relish. +The frown which for the last hour had been contracting her level brows +disappeared, for she had thought of something to do. As she rose from +the table she said to the butler:-- + +“Will you order the carriage, please, right away. I'm going out.” + +Porter was with McNally in one of the offices of the M. & T. station. +The two had been sitting there ever since the building had been seized +by the deputies, getting satisfactory reports from station after station +as the raiders moved up the line. Porter was on the point of starting +home for dinner when the reports began coming in from Tillman City. The +first of the yellow sheets the boy brought them simply repeated the news +that had come in so many times that afternoon. The station was in the +hands of the C. & S.C. men, and there had been no resistance. But the +second sheet was less satisfactory, for it told of Stevens's escape on +the yard engine. + +Porter read it and exclaimed petulantly, “McDowell must have been asleep +when he let a man get away like that.” + +“Do you think there's much harm done?” asked McNally. + +“I'm afraid so. Weeks will hear all about it in a few minutes, if he +hasn't already, and he's sure to hit back. He moves quick, too.” + +“We can wire McDowell to stay right where he is, and rush through +another train with re-enforcements,” suggested McNally. “We may not be +able to get the rest, but we can at least keep what we've got.” + +“You'd better make up another train, anyway. We can fill it up with men +from our carshops. McDowell had better keep right on up the line. If +we have to fight, it'll be better to do it at some small place than at +Tillman. We're less likely to be interfered with. Tell McDowell to go +slow and not too far.” + +The order to McDowell with the promise of reeforcements was sent out in +time to catch him before he left Tillman, and then McNally turned his +attention to massing his reserve. At the end of an hour and a half +of hard work he saw the last files of the rear guard march down the +platform and into the train. His frown expressed dissatisfaction, for +these men were not so good fighting material as those McDowell had +captained. Their manner was sheepish; they did not finger lovingly the +clubs they had been provided with, and altogether they seemed to feel +a much greater respect for law and order than was appropriate to the +occasion. + +They were the best men available, however, and there were several +hundred of them, and McNally was about to give the order which would +send them up the road to the succor of McDowell, when Porter came +hurrying toward him from the telegraph office. + +“Don't send those men out yet, McNally,” he said. “There's something +wrong here. I think they've bagged McDowell.” + +The train despatcher came into the waiting room, and seeing them walked +rapidly toward them. + +“Something has gone wrong, gentlemen. We've been talking to Gilsonville +and he's all balled up. He isn't the same man who was there fifteen +minutes ago.” + +“They've got past McDowell then,” said McNally. “And they couldn't have +done that without catching him. We'd better get that train away as fast +as possible then, hadn't we?” + +“I don't think so,” said Porter. “Have them ready to start at a minute's +notice, and we'll plan out what's the best thing to do.” + +Back in the little office again Porter explained his plan. “You see,” he +said, “these fellows are not likely to be very much in a fight. We don't +know how many men Weeks has got, but the farther down the line he comes +the weaker he'll be. If we let him come far enough we can do the same +trick to him that he must have done to McDowell; but if we meet him +halfway, he may beat us. That leaves us at his mercy.” + +“Do you think Weeks is on the train himself?” asked McNally. + +“Can't tell. It would be like him. If he isn't, that young West is. Most +likely West is, anyway.” + +“He's the man that blocks our game, if he is a fool. If anything should +happen to him, there wouldn't be any question as to who was receiver of +the road.” + +Porter said nothing and there was a long silence. Then McNally went on, +speaking slowly and guardedly:-- + +“If there is anything of a mix-up such a thing would be likely enough to +happen. He's young enough and cocky enough to get hurt quite naturally.” + +Then Porter spoke quickly, for he read the unsaid meaning in the words. +“That's going too far. I want the road, but not that way.” + +McNally's drooping lids quivered, but otherwise his face was +expressionless. He made no pretence that Porter had misunderstood him. +He spoke as though unheeding the interruption. + +“If we bring about his disappearance for a day or two,--it needn't hurt +him any,--we'll control the road, fight or no fight.” + +He had meant to say something more, but he stopped, his eyes fixed on +the opening door. Following his gaze Porter turned. + +“Katherine!” he exclaimed. + +With automatic courtesy, McNally rose and drew up a chair for her, but +Katherine did not take it. She had worn a high-collared black velvet +cloak over her house dress, and she drew it off and threw it over the +desk. Then coming up behind her father she touched his forehead lightly +with her cool hands. + +“Keeping everlastingly at it,” she said, trying to speak lightly, +“without any dinner or anything. Is business getting so very, very +serious?” + +The tenderness of it touched Porter, and though he felt that she should +not be there he could not send her away. + +“We're right in the thick of it now,” he said. + +“It will all be over one way or the other in a day or two.” + +“And then,” said Katherine, with a little laugh, “and then I'll have +somebody to play with again.” + +She stooped and kissed him, and then noticing that McNally was still +standing she addressed him for the first time. + +“Please don't wait for me to sit down. I'm going to stay right here.” + +Porter yielded to the restfulness of having her there and sat with +closed eyes, while she stroked the trembling lids with the tips of +her fingers. Neither of the men spoke, and at last Katherine broke the +silence. + +“Don't you think,” she said to her father, “that everything would go +just as well if you came home with me now and took a little rest? You'll +feel lots better to-morrow, if you do, and there's a to-morrow coming, +you know. It isn't likely that anything more will happen tonight, is +it?” + +“I'm afraid it is,” said McNally. “You see we think Weeks is coming down +the line now, with a trainful of armed men, and he may force us into a +fight before morning.” + +“I see,” said Katherine. “That is, when his army meets the one you sent +up the line this afternoon.” + +Porter moved his head free from her hands and asked sharply,-- + +“What do you know about that, dear?” + +“Just what Senator Jones told me,” she answered. “He got off the train +at Sawyerville and drove over to the Club to telephone.” + +“Do you know which Senator Jones it was?” asked McNally. “Was it the one +they call 'Sporty'?” + +“Yes,” laughed Katherine; “I'm very sure it was that one.” + +McNally turned quickly to Porter. “He's got it in for your people, +hasn't he?” + +“Yes,” the other answered; “but he can't do much harm. Nobody pays any +attention to him. Do you know, Katherine, whether his telephoning had +anything to do with us?” + +“I'll tell you everything I know about it,” she said, and she recounted +what she knew of the doings of the Senator on that afternoon. + +“Is that bad news?” she asked, when she had finished. + +“We can hardly tell till we see what happens next,” said McNally. + +Katherine seated herself in the chair McNally had placed for her, +and listened while her father and McNally talked over their plans and +speculated upon the probable import of the messages which kept coming +in. There was no attempt to keep Katherine in the dark as to what their +plans were, and for the time she had given up looking at the perplexing +aspects of the situation, and was enjoying the action and excitement of +it. But as the clock ticked off one hour and then another, she noted +her father's increasing weariness, and she determined to make another +attempt to get him home, where he could, at least, have a few hours' +rest. + +She rose, and walking around behind him, as she had done before, she +clasped her hands over his eyes, and said:-- + +“You're completely worn out, dad. Please come home. I don't believe +anything is going to happen after all.” + +Porter sighed wearily; but he said, “My dear, if Jim Weeks is coming +down the line, something is sure to happen.” + +“Do you think he's on the train himself?” she asked. + +McNally looked up quickly. It was not the question, but something that +the question suggested to him, that made him say:-- + +“Probably not. We think young West is in charge of the gang.” + +Katherine's hands were still clasped over her father's eyes, and McNally +took the opportunity this afforded him to accompany his words with a +meaning look that was insolent in its intentness. In spite of herself +Katherine felt the blood mounting into her cheeks and forehead, +and McNally, seeing the blush, made no effort to conceal his smile. +Katherine did not flinch from his gaze, but returned it squarely. +Dropping her hands to her father's shoulders, she said steadily:-- + +“I suppose he is on the train. He likes that sort of thing. Of course +Mr. McNally will lead our forlorn hope when it starts out.” + +She smiled as she said it, for he winced under the thrust. + +He rose hurriedly, and as he moved toward the door he spoke to Porter. + +“I've got some business to attend to with Wilkins. I'll be back soon.” + +When he had left the room Porter turned to Katherine. + +“You'd better go home now. I can't go until we know what is going on out +on the road. I'll come as soon as I can, but you must go now.” + +He had spoken gently, but with a finality that left Katherine no hope +of persuading him. He took up her cloak and threw it over her shoulders, +and kissed her. + +“Good night. I'll come along by and by.” + +“If you don't, I'll come back after you.” + +Without waiting to hear her father's dissent, which she knew would +follow this declaration, she fled from the room and down the steps to +her carriage. + +As she settled herself among the robes and cushions she heard McNally's +voice:-- + +“Can you find the right men to do it?” + +The door slammed and the carriage clattered away with Katherine +wondering what “it” was. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +IN THE DARK + +After leaving Brushingham, Harvey and his crew merely duplicated the +enemy's performance of the afternoon. The C. & S.C. employees were +thrown out before they had become thoroughly settled, and with each new +capture messages flew back to Mattison at Manchester, giving him and Jim +Weeks a detailed account of the progress of the train. The greatest care +was exercised to keep news of the train from Truesdale. Wherever there +was a possibility of the ejected men reaching a telephone, they were +actually taken in custody and placed under guard. The operators were +instructed to answer all messages from the Truesdale despatcher as +intelligently as possible, in order to continue the deception. + +It was a long, hard ride. Harvey was called upon constantly to exercise +ingenuity in the handling of his forces, and though Mallory was of great +assistance, the strain of responsibility rested upon Harvey. He was +tired when he started, but as the night wore on toward morning, nothing +but his sound nerves kept him on his feet. At two-thirty o'clock they +were within twenty miles of Truesdale, and Harvey and Mallory were +both in the engine, anxiously looking for obstructions. From Mattison's +despatches they knew that reenforcements were flying down over an open +road, but the collecting of a second force had taken time, and it was +nearly midnight before the second train was on its way, a hundred and +sixty-five miles from Harvey's present location. + +Nearly all Harvey's men had been dropped along the line, and he was in +no position for a conflict, particularly as he had no knowledge of the +enemy's location or preparedness. Mallory was for pausing until the +other train should reach them, probably about daylight. He argued that +they had nothing to gain and everything to lose. Harvey, undecided, +referred to his map, spreading it out on the fireman's bench while +Mallory lighted matches and held them over the paper. Harvey ran his +finger down the line to Sawyerville. + +“Just north of the Sawyerville station,” he said, “there is a curve and +a deep cut. I am inclined to think that if they try to block the road +they'll do it there. The quarries are right at hand, and all they need +to do is to roll a few rocks down.” + +“Do you think they would try that?” asked Mallory. “It would block them +worse than it would us.” + +“I don't know about that, but I'll feel a lot easier when we're through +that cut with open country between us and Truesdale. Run slow, Donohue, +and put out your headlight. Mallory, you see that the train is perfectly +dark. We might as well try a little bluffing even if we do strike them. +They won't know but what we've got five hundred men aboard, and the +others will reach us before they find it out.” + +Mallory clambered over the coal in the tender, while the fireman crawled +out on the running board and extinguished the headlight. The night was +very dark, and Jawn leaned out of the cab window, his left hand gripping +the throttle lever. The fireman was badly in need of sleep, and showed a +tendency to grumble in a half-incoherent way, but Jawn was as silent as +at the start. To Harvey, who even in the excitement was afraid to +sit down for fear of falling asleep, the engineer was a marvel in his +machine-like self-control. + +Slowly the line of empty cars rolled along. Jawn's eyes were glued +to the track in front, which to Harvey seemed a constantly resolving +confusion of shadows. The tall gray telegraph poles crept by with +monotonous regularity until Harvey turned away and looked out at the dim +meadows on the left, over which was spread a ghostly film of mist. + +“There's the cut,” said Jawn. + +Harvey looked forward, but could see nothing. Jawn, however, gradually +slackened speed until they were barely moving. Mallory appeared on the +tender and came over the coal to the apron, where he stood leaning out +with one arm around the cab door-post. The fireman heaped a shovel with +coal, and staggering wearily into the cab he knocked open the door of +the fire-box from which a dull glow tempered the darkness. Harvey seated +himself on the fireman's seat, holding himself stiffly erect and trying +to distinguish the track before. Jawn slowly brought the train to a +stop. + +“What is it?” asked Harvey. “See anything ahead?” + +“No. We're about two hundred yards from the curve.” + +Harvey turned to Mallory. + +“We'd better throw out a few men ahead, Mallory, to see that the track +is clear.” + +“Haven't got many left, not more than half a dozen altogether.” + +Harvey stepped down and stretched his tired limbs. + +“I'll go myself,” he said. “Call one of your men up here.” + +Mallory climbed back on the tender and whistled. A man who had been +sitting on the steps of the first car came forward. + +“You wait here, Donohue,” said Harvey. “If everything is all right, +I'll come back.” He struck a match and looked at his watch. “We've been +taking time enough. It's three-fifteen now. I'll walk along the top of +the cut on the left-hand side, and you “--to the detective--“you take +the other side. Keep within easy hail--” He paused abruptly. Through the +crisp night air came the roll and snort of an engine. There was a long +silence in the cab. + +“She's running slow,” said Jawn, at length. + +Harvey stood breaking the match into bits. The noise of the other train +came slowly nearer, but so slowly that all listened breathlessly. After +a little they could hear the rumbling of an exhaust, and Jawn muttered, +“She's stopped.” + +“We'd better wait,” said Mallory. “It's more than likely that they have +another gang ready for us. They probably will be coming this way before +long.” + +Harvey stepped up to the fireman's seat again, and fixed his eyes on +the black cut ahead. It was still dark, but he could now distinguish the +deep shadow which marked the spot where the track bent sharply to the +left between its rock walls. For some time all were silent, listening to +the noise of the other engine. Jawn sat on his bench, which he had not +left for hours, ready either for going ahead or for backing, as the +circumstances should dictate. Mallory moved to the step and swung out as +before, watching and listening. The fireman swung his arms and shifted +his feet in an effort to keep awake. + +Occasionally they could hear men shouting, then there would be no sound +save the subdued hiss of steam. After a long wait a bell rang, and +Jawn's grasp tightened, but the other engine gave only a few coughs and +stopped again. The ensuing silence was broken by Harvey stepping to the +tender and beckoning to the detective, who had been sitting on the coal. + +“All right,” said Harvey. “We'll go ahead and see what they're up to. +You take the right bank, and keep close to the edge where I can talk +to you if necessary.” He swung out of the cab and began laboriously to +climb up the seamed sloping rock, which reached a man's height above the +cab roof. + +Excepting the occasional cracks and jagged projections there was no +foothold, and it was at the expense of cut and scraped hands that he +scrambled up the soft limestone and reached the top. He sat for a moment +on the ground to recover his breath and to pull himself together. The +detective was standing on the opposite bank and Harvey rose and +stumbled forward. They crept along, climbing fences and tripping through +underbrush. As they rounded the curve the ground began to slope away, +and soon they could see the headlight of an engine. Behind it, at the +Sawyerville platform, stretched a train of lighted cars. + +Harvey and the detective had been talking across the cut, but now for +the sake of caution they went on in silence. Harvey slipped around a +farmyard that backed up to the track, and struck into the woods that lie +north of Sawyerville almost up to the station and its lonely cluster of +houses. Stepping quietly along a bridle path he soon came within earshot +of the station. + +Little knots of men stood on the platform talking excitedly. The new +station agent and operator was running about in his shirt sleeves with +his hand full of papers. Within the cars were crowds of men; Harvey +estimated that there were several hundred. Standing near the engine, +the centre of a small group, was a large man whom Harvey thought +was McNally, but he could not be certain at that distance and in the +uncertain light of flickering station lamps. + +Harvey's sporting blood was up, and with entire forgetfulness of his +exhaustion he crept slowly forward, worming through the brush and long +grass behind a snake fence. Slowly he progressed until only a muddy +road intervened between him and the north end of the platform. Taking +advantage of a noisy blow-off from the engine, he piled some brush up in +front of him and stretched out at full length with his chin on his arm, +viewing the scene through the opening between the two lowest rails of +the fence. Now he could easily recognize McNally, and without being +able to distinguish words could even hear him talking. Suddenly McNally +stepped out from the group and called down the platform,-- + +“Blake, are Wilkins and the boys back yet?” + +The reply was lost to Harvey, but McNally shouted,-- + +“If they aren't here in five minutes, go ahead.” + +That told Harvey just what he wanted to know, and slowly turning he +began crawling back. But before he had gone very far, he heard a sound +which suggested possibilities. It was the wheezing of his own engine at +the other end of the curve. Now that he stopped to think, he realized +that it must have been perfectly audible to McNally's party. From this +it was naturally to be inferred that “the boys” had been sent out on a +mission similar to his own. It occurred to him that he and they might +have passed, and that the repassing might not so easily be accomplished. +He increased his efforts and soon was deep enough in the woods to get to +his feet and run. When he drew near the farmhouse he took a detour and +passed it with fifty yards to spare. He could not afford to rouse any +dogs. He was getting into the open when three or four men appeared +directly in front of him, walking slowly from a strip of woods toward +the track. Harvey dug his heel into the ground and dodged back, but the +men saw him and without a word started in pursuit. + +The chase was not a long one. Harvey was completely hemmed in, and +exhausted as he was and spent with running, he was soon overhauled. He +tried to call out, but one of the men gripped his mouth. + +Mallory, as soon as Harvey was out of sight, settled down to await his +return with more or less impatience. The fireman leaned against the +forward end of the tender and promptly fell asleep, but Jawn waked him +with a growl, whereupon the exhausted man stood erect, struggling to +bring his rebellious nerves under control. As the minutes slipped by +Jawn's eyes shifted from track to bank and back to the cut again. The +clouds that lingered from the afternoon rain hid every star save one +near the horizon, which struggled to announce the coming dawn. + +Ten minutes passed, and fifteen. Then came the warning bell of the other +locomotive, followed by a quick succession of puffs as the big drivers +gripped the rails. Jawn leaned far out the window and scanned the banks +of the cut. No one was in sight. He ducked in and seized the throttle +lever. + +“Hold on,” said Mallory. “Are they coming this way?” + +“Yes.” + +Mallory seized his arm. + +“Back up, then. We can't meet them.” + +Jawn jerked his elbow from Mallory's grasp and opened the throttle. + +“Are you crazy, man!” Mallory shouted. “Stop her! You'll kill us!” + +Jawn opened her a little wider. For an instant Mallory looked at him in +wonder, then he sprang forward and jammed the lever close to the boiler. + +“Reverse!” he ordered. + +For reply Jawn turned on Mallory and crowded him back. Weak-nerved from +the long strain, suffering for lack of sleep, the two men broke down +for the moment, and struggled about the cab. The fireman stumbled back +against the boiler with a dazed face, but after a moment he recovered +and rushed between the two men. + +“This ain't right!” he screamed. “If you two fight, we're ditched.” + +As he spoke, the detective who had gone with Harvey came slipping and +tumbling down the cut, and clambered aboard the engine. Jawn and Mallory +fell back against the opposite benches and glared at each other. Jawn +suddenly reached for the throttle. + +“Wait a minute,” gasped Mallory; “she's stopped.” + +Half reluctantly Jawn listened. Sure enough, the other train had paused, +evidently just around the curve. + +“The man's right,” Mallory went on. “We haven't got any business +scrapping; we've got to pull together. Now tell me what you were trying +to do.” + +Jawn looked out ahead before he replied,-- + +“I ain't going to leave Mr. West down there.” + +“Isn't Mr. West back?” asked the detective, in a startled tone. “He's +had time enough to go clear to the station and back. I went pretty near +to it myself. They've got a train full of men. It looks like business.” + +“Hear that, Donohue?” said Mallory. “What do you think we can do against +a gang like that?” + +“That don't make no difference, Mr. Mattison says, 'Hold the line if you +lose an engine doing it,' and I'm going to hold it.” + +“But stop to think, man. There isn't a possible chance of holding it. +We'll do more good by dodging back and keeping them guessing until the +relief comes. As it stands now we are perfectly helpless.” + +“Now look here,” said Jawn. “You go back and fetch every man you got.” + +“What are you up to?” + +“No difference what I'm up to. You fetch your men.” + +Mallory looked sharply at Jawn, then he motioned to the detective, who +dropped to the ground and hurried back. + +“What's your plan?” Mallory asked again. But Jawn shook his head and +watched the cut. + +In a moment the detective reappeared followed by five others. All six +came crowding upon the apron. Without leaving his seat Jawn gave his +orders,-- + +“Get on the tender, as high up as you can, and when we go at 'em, yell +like hell.” + +With startled, wondering faces the men clambered back, Mallory among +them, taking positions on the tank and on what was left of the coal. +From around the curve another succession of puffs drew Jawn's eyes to +the front, and his grip tightened. + +“Hold on, back there,” he called, “and don't yell till I holler. Fire +up, Billy.” + +Billy fired up and the engine moved slowly forward. She crept cautiously +toward the curve, foot by foot. On the rock wall dead ahead a yellow +light flashed, and then crept around toward them. Jawn waited until it +was almost full in his eyes. + +“Whistle, Billy,” he said. + +The hoarse whistle shrieked, and the other engine seemed to start, then +hesitate. + +“Now,” said Jawn, without looking around, and he let out a tremendous +yell of “At 'em, boys!” The men on the tender promptly raised an uproar, +the fireman shouted as he jerked the whistle cord, and Jawn sat with one +eye on the indicator, the other on the approaching headlight, his bass +voice all the while roaring out a fiery challenge not unmixed with +profanity. + +The engineer of McNally's special had received no orders to sacrifice +his engine, and had no desire to sacrifice himself. He wavered, stopped, +then tried to back. But Jawn let out another notch, and rammed his +bull nose into and through the other's pilot with such force that both +locomotives left the track. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +THE COMING OF DAWN + +The collision occurred at the southern end of the cut. It had for the +men in the C. & S.C. train the additional force of unexpectedness. +It was not violent, as railway collisions go, but the shock of it was +enough to jerk the huddled, dozing men out of their seats, and to +awaken them to a full consciousness that something had happened. In the +stupefied hush which followed the crash they heard outside the train a +chorus of shoutings,--derisive, blasphemous, triumphant. That completed +their momentary demoralization; a panic swept them away, and the +frenzied men fought each other in the effort to reach the car doors. + +But the rush was checked as suddenly as it had begun. The first men to +get through the doors had hardly leaped to the ground when they saw +from the shadow of the cut the vicious spit of revolvers and heard the +bullets singing unpleasantly over their heads. Where they stood the gray +dawn made them perfectly visible, but the blackness of the cut screened +their assailants and made it impossible to guess their numbers. About +twenty men had got out of the C. & S.C. train when the volley was fired, +and the celerity with which they scattered brought another cheer from +Mallory's men intrenched in the cut. + +Some of the fugitives scurried to the woods, while others struggled back +into the cars. The shots had been heard inside the cars, and the rush to +get out of them was succeeded by the impulse to lie down. The men were +without leaders, without means of measuring the peril they were in or +the force of their opponents, without knowledge of what was expected of +them; and they lay cowering but angry in the barricaded cars, awaiting +further developments. + +There was no one to tell them what to do. Where were their leaders? +The murmur ran through the line of cars that McNally and Wilkins had +deserted them. For neither of them was on the train when the collision +occurred. + +McNally, standing on the Sawyerville platform near the rear end of his +train, had already given the signal to go ahead when a man came out of +the woods, hurried across the muddy road, ran down the platform, and +clutching his arm said eagerly:-- + +“Mr. McNally, Wilkins wants you to come over here. We've caught one of +them and he says he thinks it's the one you told him about.” + +McNally turned and shouted to the engineer, “Hold on up there a minute”; +but the cry was unheard, and the long train continued slowly toward the +curve. Smith, who had just brought the report to McNally, started up the +platform in pursuit, but McNally stopped him. + +“Never mind,” he said. “They won't go far. Now tell me about this fellow +you've caught. Where was he?” + +“Right over here in the woods; it's only a little way. Wilkins wanted +you should come over there.” + +“Go ahead,” said McNally. “Show me the way.” + +The two men crossed the road and entered the woods by the path. It was +still as black as midnight under the trees, and they felt their way +cautiously. Just north of the farmhouse they left the path and stepped +into the crackling underbrush. They had gone but a few paces when they +were stopped by the sound of a low whistle close by at their left. + +“There they are,” said the guide. + +McNally started to follow him, but hesitated and then whispered:-- + +“I'll wait here. Send Wilkins out to me, will you?” + +When Wilkins appeared McNally stepped back a little and looked around +nervously before he spoke. + +“Can they hear us?” + +Wilkins shook his head. + +“How much did you tell that young fellow of our conversation?” + questioned McNally. + +“Smith? Nothing but just what he told you. I said I thought he was the +man you told me about.” + +“What does he look like?” + +“Big man--straight dark hair. I took these out of his pockets.” + +They were a handful of papers, and McNally took them eagerly. “That's +something like,” he said. + +It was too dark to make out anything, and he struck a match. The crackle +was followed by another sound from the thicket, as though a man had +moved suddenly and violently. McNally started and dropped the match, +glancing suspiciously toward the spot whence the sound came. + +“It's only the boys,” said Wilkins. “Here, I'll give you a light.” + +As he sheltered the flickering match-light with his hands, McNally +glanced over the papers. One of them he found by unfolding to be a map +of the railroad. There were some memoranda, scrawled and unintelligible, +and last of all, what appeared to be a note in a crumpled blue envelope, +bearing a week-old postmark. He scrutinized it closely, and then rubbed +his soft hands over it. There was the caricature of a smile on his face. + +“That's all the light I need. He's the man.” + +As Wilkins dropped the match, McNally turned a little and slipped the +blue note into his pocket. Then he handed the other papers to Wilkins, +saying:-- + +“Put them back where you found them. We don't want to rob him.” + +In a moment, with lowered voice he went on:-- + +“I don't think it's necessary for me to give any further instructions. +When you go back there just tell those men what we want. It's necessary +that West shall be out of the game for the next day or two, that's all. +I'll walk along toward the train, and when you get through with them +follow me down the track. What force have they on the other train?” + +“Not more than twenty men.” + +“That simplifies--” + +As he started to speak there came to his ears a splintering crash +followed by a quick succession of shots. + +McNally smiled. “The boys are rushing things,” he said. “I hope they +aren't doing anything rash. I'll hurry along and pacify 'em. Follow me +as soon as you can, will you?” + +He turned to go, but Wilkins waited. + +“Mr. McNally,” he said, “I guess you'd better attend to that West +business yourself. I'll send one of those men to you, and take Smith +down to the train with me.” + +“What do you mean?” + +“I guess you can see what I mean all right,” said Wilkins. “I'd rather +let you be responsible for any kidnapping.” + +He did not wait for a reply, but hurried into the thicket, and nodding +to one of the men who still held Harvey he said in a low tone:-- + +“You're wanted out there. Your partners can hold this chap all right.” + Then with a gesture motioning Smith to follow, he felt his way through +the woods and down the side of the cut to the track. + +Once out of the shadow of the trees he could see plainly enough, for +dawn was breaking fast. The rear end of his train was in sight, about a +hundred yards up the track; the head of it was hidden by the curve. From +the cut he could hear derisive shouts and cat-calls, but from his own +train not a sound. Puzzled and a little alarmed, he broke into a run. +He passed the rear cars and came around the curve in sight of the men in +the cut. + +“Get back there, you damned robber!” shouted one of them, and the +command was followed by a shot. + +The bullet went high over Wilkins's head, but it had its effect none +the less. He sprang up the steps of the nearest car and threw himself +against the door. It resisted his efforts, however, and from inside the +car came another warning, for a gruff voice said:-- + +“Quit that, if you don't want to be blown full of holes.” + +Wilkins stepped out of line of the door before he answered:-- + +“Let me in, you fool. It's me, Wilkins.” + +The door opened slowly and he looked into the barrel of a levelled +revolver, which was lowered when he was recognized. He looked about the +crowded car in increasing amazement, the men shifting sullenly under his +glance. At last he said:-- + +“What in hell are you men doing here? Scared to death, too; and by half +a dozen men! Stand up now, and go out there and tie 'em up. It won't +take you but a minute.” + +There was an inarticulate growl of protest, and the man who had been +guarding the door spoke: + +“They've got us in a hole. We started to get off the train and they shot +at us from the cut. They can pick us off like rabbits.” + +Wilkins hesitated. He did not know whether or not the men in the +cut would shoot to kill, but he saw that their position gave them a +tremendous advantage in the first rush. He did not care to face the +responsibility of ordering a charge that would prove too costly. After a +moment he said:-- + +“It'll be all right if you all do it together. One of you speak to the +men in the forward cars and I'll go back and do the same thing. Then +when we give the signal make a rush.” + +Wilkins went through toward the rear of the train, as he had said, +but his object was to gain time and to wait for McNally. Then the +responsibility could be shifted to where it belonged. When he reached +the rear platform he saw McNally coming up the track. He hurried to meet +him, and in a few words laid the situation before him. + +McNally's upper lip drew away from his teeth as he heard it, but he +spoke quietly. + +“They've got us bluffed down, haven't they? But I guess it's about time +we called them. They'll be pretty careful not to hit anybody with those +guns of theirs. Have the men come through to the rear of the train and +get off from this platform where they'll be screened by the curve. Then +they can spread out through the woods and come down on 'em from the +sides of the cut.” + +Of course the odds were overwhelming; they were greater even than the +numerical disparity would indicate, for the men in the cut were utterly +exhausted. They had staked everything on their bluff and had been +sustained for a time by seeing that it was succeeding. But at last Jawn, +standing in the cab of his derailed locomotive, saw something that made +him call quickly to Mallory. + +“They've started,” he said. + +“Where are they?” + +“Comin' up through the woods.” + +Mallory glanced quickly about and said, “We're flanked. There's no good +in staying here, is there?” + +“The baggage car'll hold together for a while, and the other train ought +to be here now.” + +“Well,” said Mallory, “we'll try it. Come on, boys, get to cover.” + +The men climbed into the car, and Jawn and Mallory were discussing +methods for defending it, when the fireman thought of something. + +“How about Bill Jones?” he asked. “He's back with the flag. Ain't he +liable to get snapped up?” + +“He'll have to take his chances,” said Mallory. + +“Hold on, though. It won't do for them to find him.” + +He glanced out of the window and then ran out on the platform. + +“There's time enough, I guess,” he muttered, turning and speaking into +the car. “I'm goin' back with him.” + +He disappeared, and Jawn quietly assumed command of the defences. “Don't +do any shooting,” he said. “It won't help any in this mix-up. These are +good to hit with,” and he showed a coupling pin he held in his hand. + +When the preparations were made for the defence, and all the bulky +articles in the car had been placed where they would be most in the way +of an attacking party, the men waited. They were stupid with fatigue, +and even the prospect of an immediate attack failed to arouse them; but +they were still game, and though they lay about the floor in attitudes +of utter exhaustion their sullen determination to hold the car was +unmistakable. + +At last a shower of stones came rattling about the car, and they heard +the shouts of two hundred men who came charging down the banks into +the cut. Jawn and his men breathed more freely now that the waiting was +over, and drew themselves up with a spark of their old alertness. One +man began singing, drumming on the car floor with a stick,-- + +“There'll be a hot time--” + +And another, springing to his feet, took to balancing his loaded club, +shifting it from finger to finger, and then catching it in his hand he +struck quick and hard through the air to see where the grip was best. + +Then they heard the sound of feet on the north platform, and some one +tried the door. “Guess they're in here,” they heard him say. + +“Guess you'll find that you're dead right about that,” observed the man +who had been singing. + +Jawn said no word, but waited with blazing eyes beside the door. He +meant to strike the first blow with his coupling pin. There were two +ineffectual thuds against the door and then a crash. The hinges started +and one panel splintered inward. Another, and this time the door fell +and a giant of a man, jerked off his balance by the sledge he had swung, +staggered into the car. Jawn struck; the man's collarbone crackled under +the coupling pin and he fell forward with a yell. Then over him and +over the fallen door came the rush. The handful of defenders chose +their corners and fought in them, each in his own way; some in a sort of +hysteria, screaming curses, some striking silently, and one, the singer, +with a laugh on his lips. When the fireman was struck senseless, this +man fought over him until forced back by press of numbers, so that he no +longer had room to strike. + +The defence of the baggage car was over, and the defenders, disabled and +disarmed, were submitting to the handcuffs or to the bits of rope which +were used in securing them, when there came a sound of cheering, which +made their captors leave them hastily and clamber from the car. The +relief had come. + +It came on the run, with Mallory at the head. There was no order, no +pretence at formation; simply a stream of eager, angry men, some running +through the cut along the tracks, others stumbling through the woods +above, all animated by the desire to reach the scene of action as +quickly as possible. And waiting for them was another mob of men, the +main body of McNally's army. They were crowded in the cut on both sides +of the train they had just captured, with the knowledge rankling in +their hearts that they had been held at bay by a handful of determined +men. They were glad they had somebody to fight. + +The moment the two bodies of men came together the confusion became +indescribable. The men had no means of distinguishing between friend and +foe. They were at too close quarters to make fighting possible, and if +it had been, no one would have known whom to strike and whom to +defend. The cut was densely packed with men who strained and swayed and +struggled and swore, but who could not by any possibility fight. But +slowly the increasing weight of the new arrivals began to tell, and +slowly, almost imperceptibly, the mass began to move south. Eventually +they would push out of the cut to the open, where they could discuss +matters more satisfactorily. + +In the excitement they did not hear the long train that came clanking up +from the south and stopped just behind the C. & S.C. train. But a moment +later the uproar ceased, as sounded high and clear the echoing bugles, +“Forward, Fours left into line, March!” Looking, they saw six companies +of the National Guard come swinging across the open, the horizontal rays +of the rising sun gilding their fixed bayonets. + +There was no need for shot or bayonet thrust, the mob was quiet. +McNally, as he stood panting in the thickest of the crowd, knew what +it meant. The time for violence was over; his army had outlived its +usefulness. And he knew that however the fight for the M. & T. was to be +won, this was the beginning of the end. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +KATHERINE DECIDES + +It was some hours before definite information was to be had concerning +the present condition of affairs. No one knew whether his side had won +or lost, whether the M. & T. was a Weeks road or a Porter road, though +in the excitement each claimed control and made immediate efforts to +enforce orders relating to its conduct. Messages flew back and +forth along the singing wires, and wrecking trains started almost +simultaneously from Manchester and from Truesdale, with instructions +to clear up the muss at Sawyerville, in order that the regular train +service be resumed. + +But before matters were more than fairly under way, there came a sudden +suspension of action. The Weeks wreckers paused at Brushingham, and +contented themselves with pulling Harvey's first capture back on +the rails. That done, the conductor stuffed a bundle of somewhat +contradictory but imperative orders into his pocket, and stretched +himself on the little red bench on the Brushingham station platform; the +engineer, after a shouted order, settled down to the nearest approach +to rest known to an engineer on duty; the division car repairer and the +roadmaster curled up in the caboose, for they had been routed out at +an unseemly hour; the station agent amused himself reading the messages +that rattled through to the South and back, telling of a muddle at +headquarters. When a wrecking train is held for orders, it is safe to +assume that something has happened. + +Down the line there was a similar occurrence. The Truesdale repair crew +was caught at Sawyerville and ordered back. But before the astonished +conductor had read the message through, another came ordering him +on, subject no longer to the Superintendent's orders, but to those of +Colonel Wray, 3d N.G. + +The Governor of the State, in the conduct of routine matters, was +usually content to follow precedent, which means that the State House +clerical force was let more or less severely alone to govern the +community, while the executive directed the politics of his party with a +view to coming elections. At times an emergency occurred, miners struck, +excited citizens lynched a negro, henchmen of the other party strained +the voting laws, municipal corporations endeavored to steal State +privileges--in any of which cases he delayed definite action until +public sentiment bayed at his heels, then he acted with shrewdness and +despatch. At the time of the fight, this same noisy public was keen +on the scent of the railroads. Certain street railway corporations had +called out abuse by methods which were excusable only for their success, +and the mass saw no reason to believe that one corporation was better +than another. Discriminating freight tariffs, which had seemed to +favor a neighboring State, had thoroughly antagonized the country +districts--and the country districts' vote. From even the solid +communities had come rumors of restlessness and discontent. Ward bosses +were worried, county magnates were dodging reform committees instigated +by the traditionally conscientious minority, and the Governor knew that +certain bills which awaited his signature were not likely to increase +his following. + +So it was that the great man was watching, watching and waiting, for the +opportunity to strike a blow which should swing public sentiment around +in his favor. Up to the present the whole State had been quiet. The +miners were as orderly as the Sunday-school over which he presided when +in his native town. The great labor organizations he was so eager to +conciliate perversely gave him no opportunity. + +And so it was that when messages came pouring in upon him from bosses +and chairmen and advisers urging immediate interference in the M. & T. +fight, when the sheriff of Malden County sent in an hysterical report, +all instigated by the pungent advices from mad and muddy Senator Sporty +Jones--the Governor inclined his ear. He was a shrewd man, and he knew +that in order to make a distinct impression on The Public his blow must +be sudden and spectacular. The longer he thought on it, the more the +opportunity pleased him, and before the evening was far advanced Colonel +Wray was speeding to Truesdale. + +The Third was not a city regiment. It was made up of men from the middle +sections of the State, a company to every few counties with battalion +headquarters in three of the smaller cities, Truesdale for one. In +the city regiments was a blue-stocking element which did not fit the +Governor's present needs. + +As soon as Colonel Wray reached Truesdale, he established himself in +the inhospitable warehouse which in reports was called an armory. Before +midnight the local company was collected, uniformed, and in order. Later +special trains arrived, and squads and companies marched through the +echoing streets, to sit dozing about the armory. At three-thirty a train +came in from the southern counties bringing the second battalion, three +hundred husky farm lads who glowed with responsibility as they stacked +arms and awaited orders. + +Then came a telephone message that McNally's relief train had left +for the North. Colonel Wray waited no longer but marched over to the +station, seized the telegraph office and the telephone, placed guards at +each entrance and about the train shed, ordered the yard master to make +up another train, levied on the station restaurant for six hundred +cups of coffee, and tore fly-leaves from the news-stand books to write +special orders for the waiting adjutant. + +Meanwhile Porter was feverish. He tried to bulldoze the sergeant in +the telegraph office only to be hustled off by a corporal's guard. He +finally reached the Colonel's ear, but was heard in courteous silence. +He made an effort to call up the Oakwood Club to send a message to +McNally, but the sunburned young fellow in the 'phone box leaned on his +rifle and shook his head. The same thing happened when he tried to get +out of the building--“Sorry, sir. Captain's orders”--and the baffled +magnate paced up and down the waiting room between long files of +light-hearted boys in blue. It was humiliating to consider that he had +subscribed heavily toward fitting up the Truesdale armory, that half the +officers knew him and feared his influence. + +While he was racking his brain sudden orders were shouted through the +building. The lounging groups came up with a jerk, there was a rattle +of arms, and in ten seconds the farm boys had resolved into a machine, +a set of rigid blue lines that reached the length of the waiting room. +There was another order, and one after another the companies broke into +columns of twos and swung through the glass doors, which were held open +by a couple of scared but admiring waiters. + +Porter followed the last company and stood in the doorway behind two +crossed rifles watching the troops climb into the cars. The Colonel +stood at the track gate as the men marched through, talking with his +aids. Porter thought for a moment of calling to him, but realized the +futility of it after the treatment he had just received. Besides, even +a railroad president could hardly keep his dignity with those ridiculous +guns under his nose. So he turned and walked slowly to his temporary +headquarters in the station agent's office, but to find that the young +captain left in command by Colonel Wray had made himself at home and was +issuing orders to a snub-nosed lieutenant. + +Porter took a chair and looked out of the window. For a moment he was +too weary to be aggressive. Worry and loss of sleep had lined his face, +and the absence of news from McNally kept his nerves strung. As he +sat there gripping the arms of the chair, face a little flushed, hair +disarranged, collar dusty, he looked ten years past his age. It was a +critical moment in the fight, and he knew it, but cornered as he was, +absolutely uninformed as to his position in the struggle, or the meaning +of the military display, a sense of helplessness almost unnerved him. +Heretofore his fights had been largely conducted through deferential +employees. He was accustomed to bows and scrapes, to men who feared him, +who watched his every move in awe, and to find himself utterly at the +mercy of these tin soldiers was disgusting. It was twenty-four hours +since he had had a wink of sleep and eighteen since he had eaten a full +meal--facts which in no small measure lessened the stability of his +mental poise. And there he sat waiting through the darkness and the +dawn. + +The reds and golds in the eastern sky spread and paled. The little +green-clad city stretched down the gentle hill, now indistinct in the +haze. An early electric car whirred and jangled past the station, and +Porter was half conscious of the noise. He got up, straightened his +stiff joints, and went to the lunch counter, where he had to jostle +between two gawky privates before he could order a cup of smoky cereal +coffee and a sandwich. After getting a place he could not eat, so he +returned to the office. Now that some sort of routine was established, +the Captain showed a willingness to meet him civilly. + +“See here,” said Porter, after a few commonplaces had been exchanged, +“how long is this going to keep up? There is no sense in holding me +here.” + +“Sorry, sir. I have no desire to inconvenience you, but my orders are to +let no one out and no one in. And you know what orders are for.” + +“Oh, that's all right,”--Porter leaned back in his chair and looked out +the window,--“but there's such a thing as going to extremes. Sometimes +common sense supersedes orders.” + +“You forget, Mr. Porter, that you are here for the purpose of conducting +a raid, and we are here to stop that raid. Under the circumstances it is +my duty to hold you and every one connected with the affair until I am +otherwise ordered.” + +“But I am not a thief, man.” + +“No, perhaps not.” The Captain turned to some papers on the desk, and +Porter continued to look out, wearily, with a sudden dull ache above his +eyes. + +A corporal appeared in the doorway, saluting. + +“There's a young lady, sir, says she's got to see Mr. Porter.” + +“Who is she?” + +“Don't know, but she sticks to it.” + +“It's my daughter,” said Porter, with an effort to rise. “Where is she?” + +“Wait,” the Captain said; “I'll speak to her,” and he followed the +soldier. + +Porter sat still. After a little he heard voices in the waiting room, +and Katherine entered the office. At the sight of his worn, haggard face +her annoyed expression vanished, and she drew the Captain's chair beside +her father's and laid her hand upon his forehead. + +“You are sick,” she said gently. + +“Nonsense”--he made a feeble effort to shake off her hand--“I asked you +not to come back. I'm tired, that's all.” + +Katherine rose and looked about. + +“Come into the waiting room, dad, and lie down. You must have some sleep +or you won't be good for anything.” + +“You must go back,” said Porter, shaking his head. “This is no place for +you.” + +Katherine looked quietly into his eyes. It was not the first time that +the strain of his busy life had told upon her father's nerves, and she +knew what was the matter. + +“Come, dad,” she said. “Get a little sleep, and I'll stay by and wake +you if there is any news.” + +Porter scowled, then slowly rose. The Captain, who had been hesitating +in the doorway, came forward to assist. Porter turned on him savagely. +“Let me alone. I can walk, I guess.” But at a glance from Katherine the +Captain took an arm, and Porter submitted, seemingly unconscious of his +inconsistency. + +Along the walls of the waiting room were benches, and on one of these +they tried to make Porter comfortable. When she saw that his head must +rest on the wooden seat, Katherine hesitated and looked at the Captain, +who was following her with his eyes. + +“I wish there was something for a pillow,” she said. “Perhaps”--she +stood erect and looked slowly about the waiting room, then stepped to +the door of the office, returning with a pretty frown. “I wonder”--she +met the Captain's gaze smiling frankly--“if you would let me take your +coat.” + +He was not an old officer, and he was not a hermit, so with but slight +hesitation he unbuckled his belt, removed the coat, rolled it up, and as +Katherine raised her father's head he slipped it underneath. + +“Will you send one of your men to a drug store for some camphor?” said +Katherine, fumbling in the purse that hung from her belt. + +The Captain beckoned to one of the soldiers who were clustered about +the door, and placed him at Katherine's disposal. When he returned she +soaked her handkerchief with the camphor and laid it on her father's +forehead. He was already asleep. + +“He'll be better as soon as he has had a little rest,” Katherine said. +“You are very good to help us.” The Captain bowed with the expression of +a man who has just been promoted, but said nothing. + +For an hour Porter slept, and during that time Katherine stayed by him, +moistening the folded handkerchief and chafing his wrists. The Captain, +his importance and self-command oozing away a bit at a time as he +watched the cool, quiet girl, hovered near as often as his dignity would +permit with offers of assistance, most of which Katherine accepted. +He put her horses and trap in charge of a militiaman, he brought out a +rocking-chair for her, and when, a little after eight o'clock, Porter +showed signs of waking, he sent out for some breakfast. + +On Porter, the touch of sleep, the welcome cup of coffee, and more than +anything else his daughter's soothing presence, seemed to have a marked +effect. He sat up, leaning back heavily, and with a struggle collected +his thoughts. Katherine joked with him, and fussed over him with a +maternal solicitude that made the Captain smile. + +At eight-thirty, as Porter was sipping another cup of coffee, the +corporal appeared. + +“A man says he's got to see Mr. Porter, sir. A Mr. McNally.” + +“McNally,” cried Porter, starting up only to sink back, breathing +heavily. “Bring him here. I've got to see him.” + +The Captain hesitated. + +“Did he state his business?” + +“No, sir. But he has a pass through the lines at Sawyerville, signed by +Colonel Wray.” + +“Um--let him come in.” + +It was not the Mr. McNally who had played for Katherine two nights +before. That had been a well-groomed, self-possessed man of the world; +this was a muddy, unshaven, angry man, who spoke in a loud voice and +smothered an oath just too late to keep it from her ear. + +He recovered somewhat, but even McNally could not lose sleep and temper +for so many hours without a more or less immediate result. As she looked +at him with a cool bow, Katherine thought of Harvey, and something +caught in her throat. + +“Well,” said Porter, “what about it? What's happened? Who's running this +road?” + +McNally looked curiously at the Captain before he replied. That officer, +at an appealing glance from Katherine, left the group. + +“The Governor is running it. He's played a game that knocks us silly. +He's come down on us and cinched things for the senatorship at one +crack.” + +“What do you mean?” In his excitement Porter sat erect. + +“The Old Man has declared the M. & T. under military rule until the +courts choose to settle it to suit themselves. That throws us out, +throws Weeks out, and the devil take the hindmost.” + +“Has there been trouble?” + +“They smashed into us at Sawyerville”--he suddenly remembered +Katherine--“Excuse me, Miss Porter, I must see your father alone.” + +“He cannot be excited, Mr. McNally.” + +“There is no time to waste--” + +Katherine turned abruptly and went into the office. + +“Yes,” said McNally, “they ripped into us at Sawyerville and we had the +hell of a time till Wray's guards came up and stopped it. Wray let me +through,--it was just after daylight,--and I picked up a horse from +a farmer and rode down. But we got West though, damn him!--caught him +sneaking through the bushes.” + +“Be careful, McNally, we've got to be careful. It's no time to get mixed +up in a thing like that--we--we can't afford--” + +“That's all right, Porter. We don't know where he is--I don't know, you +don't know--and before we find out he'll be loose again.” + +“But--Jim--Weeks don't forget that kind of thing, McNally--Jim Weeks--” + +“Oh, damn Jim Weeks! I'll take care of him.” + +Porter paused to drink at a gulp what was left of his coffee. + +“Remember, McNally, I can't back you if you get careless--I can't back +you, you know.” + +“God, man! you've got to back me! You've got to back me through +everything, or you'll go down with me. I tell you, Porter, we're too far +in to back out, and it's nerve that's going to win. If you don't back +me, if you don't draw on every cent you've got to shove it through, +you'll be the one to be hit--not me.” He paced the floor. “Yes, sir. +It's you if it's anybody.” Suddenly he stopped. He looked hard at +Porter, then he turned quickly and strode into the office. Katherine was +standing at the window. + +“Miss Katherine--” + +“Mr. McNally, my name is Miss Porter.” + +“Miss--Miss Porter, I met a friend of yours this morning. I met him +under peculiar circumstances. We had some words, I regret to say, and +he left this with me.” The plump, dirty hand drew a blue envelope from +McNally's coat pocket. “It has seemed to me that where your father's +honor was as seriously involved as in this matter, you should have +followed some other course than that of traitor.” + +In his excitement, McNally misunderstood Katherine's silence. + +“You have deliberately drawn out your father and me that you might aid +our opponents. I have watched you--I have seen it--it is not your fault +that we are not ruined--and for the sake of a man that I caught spying +on us this morning, sneaking through the bushes in the dark--” + +There was a groan from the doorway. Porter stood there with one hand +over his eyes. Katherine looked for an instant, then she brushed past +McNally, and with one arm about her father she called to the Captain, +who stood at the other side of the waiting room. He came at once. + +“Captain,” she said, “I must ask you to take care of my father. Please +telephone for a doctor and a closed carriage, and see that he is sent +home at once. I shall drive there in the trap to prepare for him. Don't +let this man”--she turned contemptuously toward McNally--“speak to +him or excite him in any way. Will you do this?” As she spoke her face +softened, and she held out her hand. The Captain took it. + +“Yes, Miss Porter, I will take care of him.” + +Katherine, without looking again at McNally, walked to the door and +called for her trap. As she waited on the steps, a newsboy came running +down the walk, crying:-- + +“Nine o'clock Extry! All 'bout M. & T. riot!” + +Katherine stopped him and bought a paper. The black headings told the +story tersely, but one item stood out with vivid distinctness. She read, +“Harvey West Disappears--Supposed that He Was Kidnapped--His Followers +Swear Vengeance--Rumored that He Is Hidden Near The Oakwood Club.” For +a moment the blood left her face, and her nerves tightened, but when the +trap was pulled up she was herself, and the smile she gave the soldier +in charge brought forth an earnest but amateurish salute. + +Then Katherine drove home--it was her duty to go home. But, her duty +done, she would drive straight to the Oakwood Club. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +HARVEY + +Before the dawn broke on Thursday morning Harvey was a prisoner. It was +so absurd, so ridiculously theatrical, that had he not been too tired to +think clearly, his sense of humor would have been equal to the occasion; +as it was, he was angry, baffled, desperate. While held in the thicket +by Wilkins's gang he had caught a voice too like McNally's to be easily +mistaken, and when McNally struck the match that showed him the papers, +Harvey had with an effort flopped over on the leaves, bound as he +was, and through the bushes had caught a glimpse of McNally's face and +figure. + +While the shooting and the uproar sounded from the cut Harvey was held +in the woods, but before the second encounter his captors jerked him to +his feet, tied his handkerchief across his eyes, and led him stumbling +away. In a few moments Harvey lost all sense of direction. He figured +that he was still on the east side of the track, and in all probability +was going southeast on the river road. For a short while he tried +to keep the direction, but realizing that he might be turned without +knowing it, he gave up and decided to rely upon a chance opportunity +to escape. Undoubtedly his guards were acting simply as agents, and +it occurred to him that he might be able to influence them; but as his +occasional attempts at conversation brought only profanity in reply, he +fell back upon silence. + +Through his thin bandage he could feel that the light was growing +brighter. Then he was led from the road, splashing through a ditch and +sprawling over another fence. He bumped into a tree. The men jerked him +roughly away and led him forward, twisting and stepping from side to +side. Occasionally his foot struck a fallen log. Evidently they were in +a heavy wood. + +At best their progress was very slow and was marked with numerous +haltings and delays. Finally, about two hours after the start, Harvey +was thrust through a doorway and a lock clicked behind him. He tore +off the handkerchief and found himself in a small office, evidently +deserted, for the rusted stove, the broken chair, and the floor were +thickly coated with dust. There was one window, empty of glass and +boarded up from the outside. He looked through a crack and saw the +caved-in shaft house and the straggling waste heap of a worked-out mine. +“Wonder how long they're going to try this game,” he thought. He picked +up the remains of a chair and tipping it over sat on the rounds. + +Harvey was nearly done for. Aside from the strain of the week, and +particularly of the night just ended, he was wet to the knees, and his +head ached from a chance blow received during his brief struggle near +the Sawyerville station. His eyelids drooped, and for fear of dropping +off to sleep he rose and walked the floor. Gradually his head cleared. +It occurred to him that McNally would have run the risk involved in +kidnapping him only because it was very important he should be gotten +out of the way. Therefore, he reasoned, it was equally important from +his point of view that he remain decidedly in the way. He looked through +the crack and saw three men standing a few yards from the window talking +excitedly. Their voices were gradually rising. + +“What you goin' to do with him?” asked one. “We can't keep him here.” + +“Well, it's only for a few days.” + +“But who's goin' to feed him?” + +“Yes,” said the third, “an' how about us?” + +“Oh, you'll be all right,” from the big man, who seemed to be the +leader; “that's all fixed.” + +“Who's goin' to do it--McNally?” + +“Ssh!” the leader looked around, and all three lowered their voices. + +Finally they seemed to reach an agreement; for the first speaker turned +and walked rapidly toward the woods, and the others took to patrolling +the small building. + +Again Harvey walked the floor. If he was to be of any service to Jim +Weeks during what was left of the fight, it was absolutely necessary +that he escape as soon as possible. In the course of his work as Jim's +private secretary he had become fairly well acquainted with the details +of his employer's many interests. Nearly all the mines along the M. & +T. were owned or controlled by the capital which Jim represented, and +Harvey knew the location of each of these. There was but one abandoned +mine in the Sawyerville district, the Valley Shaft; it was about four +miles from Sawyerville station and perhaps three or four from the +Oakwood Club. + +Therefore, he reasoned, if he once broke loose from this galling +restraint, he would soon be in a position to communicate with Jim. + +Outside, the big man stood directly before the window; his fellow could +be heard walking to and fro in the rear of the building. Harvey looked +about the room. There was nothing to serve as a weapon, except some +part of the stove. He bent down and removed one of the small iron legs, +taking care to make no noise. Then he examined the window. The boards +were half-inch stuff, nailed on with little idea of security, probably +because the office contained nothing worth stealing. He figured that +it would be no difficult matter for a man of his weight and strength to +force an exit. For the moment he forgot his weariness. + +Accordingly he drew back across the room, and bracing for a second +against the wall, he ran forward and threw himself at the boards. They +gave way more easily than he had supposed, and a rapid effort landed him +squarely on the leader, who had turned at the noise. The struggle was +short. Each had received a few hard blows when the man jerked his right +arm loose and reached back for his revolver. + +Harvey took advantage of his open guard to strike a quick blow with the +stove leg and brought the fellow to the ground. Harvey rolled him over, +took the revolver from his pocket, and picked up his own hat. A noise +from behind the building called to mind the other man, and he hurried +forward. The other was walking stealthily toward the shaft house. + +“Say,” called Harvey. + +The man turned sullenly. + +“Your friend there--he doesn't feel well,” Harvey laughed nervously and +gestured with the revolver; “you'd better look after him. I've got to +go now.” He paused to glance back at the big man, who was lying on one +elbow and rubbing his head, then he turned and ran toward the woods. + +Once on the way, however, Harvey's sudden nervous strength deserted him. +One of his opponent's blows had cut his scalp, and he was surprised to +feel blood trickling down his face. He ran until his breath gave out, +then he walked, struggling to overcome the dizziness that was coming on +him. After going some distance he found a bridle path, and soon saw the +river road before him. The need of hurry urging him on, he left the path +to cut across a meadow. With some difficulty he drew himself upon the +fence, and paused for breath with one leg thrown over the top rail. +Then he felt a wave of dizziness, and, his muscles relaxing, he pitched +forward into the long grass. + +Good nursing, proper food, and a brief rest were enough to pull together +Porter's yielding nerves. There was some delay at first in getting a +physician, and Katherine was obliged to wait for the greater part of +an hour before the slowly driven carriage brought her father home. +Considerable time passed before his improvement justified her in leaving +the house, and then it was so near noon that she decided to wait until +after lunch. + +Once on the road behind Ned and Nick, and beside the erect groom, +Katherine realized the delicacy of the situation. Up to this moment she +had been acting frankly upon impulse. It was so clear to her mind that +McNally had been instrumental in the kidnapping of Harvey, and the +sudden emotion aroused by the whole affair had so overwhelmed her, that +for the time her only thought had been to get to Harvey, to be near him +and of some service to him. But Katherine's impulse on this occasion +was not far in advance of her reason, and what had begun in a whirl of +excitement was continued in a spirit of quiet persistence. To be +sure, there was a moment of wavering, but even then she did not think +seriously of turning back. Anyway, there was nothing marked or unusual +in frequent drives to the club during this crisp golfing weather. + +It was after two o'clock when she reached the club. The links were +dotted here and there with golfers, and the usual autumn quiet hung +about the verandas and halls of the building, but in the office there +was bustle and excitement. Katherine stood near the wide fireplace in +the lower hall drawing off her gloves and looking through the office +door. A man was telephoning, a big man with a quiet voice. In a moment +he rang off and turned around. His face interested Katherine and she +watched him as he talked to the steward; she could not help hearing the +conversation. + +“I've got to have another horse,” the big man was saying. “I'll pay you +whatever your time is worth. I want this whole county stirred up in half +an hour.” + +“But, sir, I cannot leave the club. We are short of help as it is, and +the caddies are busy.” + +“I've no time to talk. A man has been kidnapped and very likely injured. +You get a rig--any kind, a farm wagon, if the horses are good--and have +it here in fifteen minutes. Figure your time at whatever you like and +send the bill to me.” + +He handed a card to the steward, who looked at it with a slight start, +and murmuring, “Certainly, Mr. Weeks,” started down the hall. Katherine +stopped him. + +“What is it, Perry?” + +“Jim--Mr. Weeks. He wants a horse.” + +“You may lend him my trap--And, Perry, say nothing of it.” Without +waiting for a reply, she went into the reading room, picked up a +magazine, and, throwing open her jacket, sat on the broad window-seat. A +moment later Ned and Nick were pulled up on the drive, Jim Weeks climbed +in beside the groom, and they hurried down toward the bridge. + +The magazine lay open in Katherine's lap. She rested an elbow on the +window-sill and sat for a long time looking out across the valley. Not +two weeks before this day she had stood on the veranda with Harvey, +looking at the same picture through the haze of twilight. Then it had +seemed like summer; now it was unmistakably autumn. Then the leaves were +only beginning to yield to the touch of the waning year; now they were +aflame and dropping--as she looked a whirl of them danced across the +sloping lawn, the stragglers settling in the grass already marked by +little dabs of red and russet brown. Farther off, in the valley, were +corn-fields, now squares of yellow and bronze and gold. It was a glowing +picture, but to Katherine it meant only that summer was dead, and she +viewed it with vague regret. + +The afternoon wore on, but Katherine took no account of it. At a little +after four, when Jim Weeks drove up and entered the building, she was +startled into looking at her watch. She heard the telephone bell ring, +and realized that he was talking. Then he paced up and down the hall. +She wanted to go out there and ask him about Harvey, whether he was +found, or whether--she shuddered a little at the thought of injury--but +a feeling of helplessness possessed her. She realized that the time was +slipping rapidly away. Jim Weeks might go, and she would have learned +nothing, would have done nothing. But she had not come altogether in +vain. She recalled with half-defiant pride that Jim had used her horses. + +“You are Miss Porter?” + +Katherine started, and turned with a slow blush. Weeks stood gravely +looking at her. + +“I understand that I have to thank you,” he continued. “They were your +horses, I believe. I hope I have not inconvenienced you by keeping you +here. But it was an emergency.” + +“Has Mr. West been found?” Katherine struggled to keep the anxiety out +of her voice. + +“No.” Weeks sat down. “It seems impossible to get any word. I've roused +things pretty effectively though, I think. There's a reward up. The +sheriffs of both counties are at work, and the farmers are all stirred +up. There's nothing to do but wait. If he's found, and by any chance is +hurt, they're to bring him here.” + +“Wouldn't it be a good plan to have a doctor here, in case--” + +“I don't think it is necessary. Of course the probability is that he is +locked up somewhere and is being held for a day or so. If he is knocked +out, it was not done intentionally. They wouldn't dare.” + +At the word “they” Katherine winced a little, but Weeks apparently was +entirely impersonal. There was a silence, Weeks sitting with slightly +drawn brows but with an otherwise impassive face, Katherine looking out +the window. A little later a wagon came slowly up the roadway. Two men +were on the seat and a third reclined in the box. They were driving +carefully, and Jim did not hear the sound of the wheels until a subdued +exclamation from Katherine drew his attention. She was sitting erect, +her hands gripping a cushion. Jim followed her gaze, then without a word +he rose and hurried from the room. + +A moment later Katherine saw the wagon pull up at the steps, Weeks +running down to meet it. The man beside the driver dropped back into the +wagon box and raised the reclining figure; then he and Jim helped him to +the ground. + +In spite of the soiled clothes, the matted hair, and the bandage across +the forehead, Katherine recognized Harvey. When she saw that he could +walk, even though leaning heavily on the others, her heart bounded. The +three came slowly up the steps. Then she could hear Jim's voice in the +hall, evidently issuing an order, and the steward slid one of the hall +settees into the room and piled rugs upon it. + +Katherine rose in some doubt as they entered. She had taken up two of +the cushions, one in each hand, and stood holding them. By now it was +nearing five o'clock. The sun was about setting, and while outdoors +it was still light, the long low room was already dim with approaching +evening, so that not until he was close at hand could she see Harvey +distinctly. But when she did distinguish the pale face and the weary +eyes, her hesitation vanished and she hastened to lay the cushions on +the settee. Harvey evidently had not observed her, for he suddenly drew +back. + +“Really, Miss Porter, I'm not such an invalid as these people are trying +to make out. I don't need to lie down.” He laughed slightly as Jim drew +him forward. “It's just a little stiffness. See here--” he broke away +from his helpers and walked somewhat uncertainly to the settee, sitting +on the edge. “What's the matter with that?” + +“Lie down, West,” said Jim, quietly. Katherine glanced at him quickly. +It was a peremptory order, but delivered in a quiet friendly tone whose +calm assertiveness admitted of no debate. With an impatient gesture +Harvey obeyed. Indeed, as Katherine looked almost shyly at this big, +self-contained man she wondered if it would be possible to disobey him. +And with the sudden realization of his secure authority came a wave of +pity for her own father, the man who had thrown himself against this +human rock and who was suffering for it. She turned away an instant for +fear that her face would reveal her emotion. + +“Well,” said Jim, looking at his watch, “by starting now I can catch the +early train to Chicago. Be careful, West; there's no hurry. I'll wire +you in the morning if there is anything important. Miss Porter, may +I ask you to see that the steward takes care of Mr. West? I'll send a +doctor out. I'm sorry to trouble you--there's no one else.” + +Katherine inclined her head. And then she realized that Harvey and she +were alone. + +“Won't you draw up a chair?” said Harvey. “I want to talk to you. I'm +glad you're here. It's an awful bore to be alone when you're this way.” + +His attempt at an easy manner gave Katherine a sense of relief. She sat +beside him. + +“I'm sorry you are hurt. How did it happen?” + +“I think I fell off a fence. Wonder if I lost my handkerchief?” He +thrust his hand into his pocket, and drew out a revolver, clasping it +by the barrel. “That's funny. I don't remember--oh, yes.” He stuffed it +back into his pocket. + +“What is it? Tell me about it.” + +Harvey looked thoughtfully at her. It occurred to him that to let her +know of McNally's actions, which presumably were instigated by Porter +himself, would be bringing matters too close home. + +“No,” he replied, “it's rather a disagreeable story. If you were a good +nurse you would try to make me forget it. I'm glad you are here--very +glad. How did you happen to come?” + +“I often drive out. It is growing dark. I must think about getting +back.” + +“No,” said Harvey, quickly, “don't go. I don't want you to go. I want +to talk to you.” His voice dropped as he spoke, and both suddenly became +conscious of a change that had come over them, between them. Katherine +sat still, turning her head toward the window, and though she could not +see him she knew that Harvey was looking at her. The room was darker +now. + +“Have you thought how odd this is,” Harvey went on, “this conversation? +We are talking just as though nothing had happened, just as though we +were the same people who--who bought things at Field's; but we aren't. +There's no use in thinking we are.” He paused to raise himself on his +elbow. “Do you know it is just twelve days since we were here?” + +Katherine laughed a little. + +“You have counted them?” + +“Yes. Last night when I was coming down on the special I thought about +it--you know it seems longer, it seems a year ago. You remember we +talked about the M. & T. And the next day when you drove me to the +station--do you remember? I've wondered since then, a good many times, +what you meant, whether you really wanted to see us win.” She started to +speak, but he broke in: “If I dared think so--” + +“You think I am weak.” + +“No, if you really want to know what I think--I think you are the +strongest girl I ever knew. Katherine,”--he reached impulsively for her +hand, but she drew it away,--“I think you are--well, I might as well say +it, you probably know it anyhow. I love you. I--I don't know that there +is anything else to say.” + +Katherine leaned back and looked at him. Her back was toward the window, +and he could see only the outline of her head. + +“Are you sure?” she asked slowly. + +“You mean--you think I'm not well, that I haven't control of myself--I +do love you, Katherine, so much that I can't get along without you. You +believe me, don't you? You must believe me!” + +“Yes,” very slowly, “I believe you.” + +“Then--” + +“I don't know what to say. I'm afraid I--Oh, don't say any more! It +isn't right.” She rose suddenly as if to move away, but Harvey caught +her dress and then her hand. + +“Katherine, you aren't going to leave me this way. Perhaps you don't +want me, perhaps I have been mistaken and foolish, but I love you, and +that ought to count for something.” + +“It does--you don't understand--” She looked out the window for a +moment: the first low-lying stars were out. “Don't you suppose,” she +said at last, in a labored voice, “that I have feelings? Don't you +suppose that I--I don't mean that, either. You have been fighting my +father--I have helped you. I have helped you to injure him, my own +father. He is sick now, and I left him to-day, because--” Harvey's grasp +tightened. “I have been disloyal to him, I have been dishonest--and that +counts for something, too. No--we have been good friends, we can still +be good friends. Perhaps, if it had been different--but it wasn't.” + +“You don't mean this, Katherine.” + +She drew her hand away and stood erect, dignified now and calm. + +“I am going home. I know that you love me, and I know that you will not +hurt me any longer; for it does hurt me, I will tell you that.” + +“But I shall see you--” With an effort, he raised himself to his feet +and stood, weak and giddy, leaning on the back of the chair. “I won't +give you up!” + +“Lie down. You mustn't tire yourself. We don't know what may happen,” + she steadied his arm as he sat down on the couch; “we only know what is +right for us now. Good-by. I will speak to the steward.” + +With throbbing head Harvey sank back on the cushions. A few moments +later the doctor came in. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +THE TILLMAN CITY STOCK + +The Governor was a familiar figure in Chicago, and his presence in a +hotel lobby ordinarily excited no more than a glance of curious interest +from the loungers about the news stand. The sensation he caused, when he +entered the office of the Great Northern on Friday afternoon, was due to +the company he brought with him; for on one side walked a pale, nervous, +careworn man, who was hardly recognizable as the dapper, self-contained +William C. Porter, and on the other, burly as ever, and, though grave, +confident as ever, was Jim Weeks. + +A man who was registering at the desk watched them as they stepped into +an elevator, and then said to the clerk:-- + +“Have you got your furniture well insured? Because you can bet your life +the fur will begin to fly in a few minutes.” + +But the conference, which any reporter in Chicago would have given his +ears to hear, was a quiet one. The Governor dominated the situation, +and at the very outset he made this clear. In his dealings with the +Intelligent Voter he was wont to call a spade by many high-sounding +names, but when he chose he could call it a spade, and he did choose so +to do this afternoon. + +The road, he said, was for the present in the hands of the State. Every +station was guarded by a detail of State troops who had instructions +to pay no attention to any writs from any court whatever. In every case +they were to respect actual possession, and to allow the routine work of +running the road to be carried on by the men they found in charge. This +state of things would continue until the Governor was fully convinced +that there would be no further attempt by either party to obtain +possession of the road by force. + +The Governor went on to point out that a continuation of this +arrangement was against the interest of both parties, as it brought the +affairs of the road into unpleasant prominence, and every added day of +it antagonized the people more, and might eventually lead to some rather +drastic legislation which would hurt every road in the State. + +The courts would of course settle the question of possession in time, +but meanwhile some sort of an understanding must be reached. The +Governor proposed as a solution of the difficulty that the two men +should jointly sign a paper he had drawn up. + +It was a petition addressed to the Governor himself, asking him to +appoint one or more men to act as receivers of the road until the suits +should be settled by the regular process of law. The men to be appointed +were to be allies of neither party in the fight. Both parties agreed to +refrain from any further attempts to use force in getting possession of +the road. + +Weeks readily, and Porter after a moment of hesitation, signed the +paper, and the Governor announced that his appointment would be made +immediately. + +It was then arranged that the regular annual election of directors, +which was due on the following Tuesday, should be held as usual. After +the legal questions were settled, the Governor's commission would turn +over the road to the newly elected board. + +When the conference was over, and it had not been a long one, the two +warring railway magnates, who in the past week had set the whole State +by the ears, rose and politely took their leave. As they went down in +the elevator together, Weeks remarked,-- + +“Autumn seems to have taken hold early this year.” + +“Yes,” answered Porter, “it's extremely disagreeable weather. I have my +carriage here. May I save you a walk?” + +“No, thanks,” said Jim; “I'm not going far.” + +When they parted at the door they did not shake hands, but there was +nothing in their manner to indicate that they had not just met for the +first time at an afternoon tea. + +Jim went straight to his office, told Pease that he must not be +disturbed, and settled himself to some hard thinking. That afternoon had +materially changed the situation, and had for the most part simplified +it. There was no further necessity for guarding against force. There was +no longer anything to be apprehended from the legal juggling of Judge +Black, for the Governor's interposition had rendered him quite harmless. +When the case was tried it would be before an unprejudiced court. The +seizure of the road by the militia had come at the right moment for Jim, +for it left his employees in possession as far down as Sawyerville. + +The longer Jim thought, the simpler the problem became. He must bring +about the election of his board of directors. As matters stood he could +accomplish this only by voting the nine thousand shares of new stock +he had issued the week before, thus giving Porter a more or less strong +case against him. But if he could command a majority of the stock +without this, there would be absolutely nothing for the courts to +decide, and Tuesday evening would see him completely victorious. And +so, for the first time that week, Jim turned the whole force of his +attention to the Tillman City stock. + +It was just ten days since he had instructed Bridge to find out what +was at the bottom of Blaney's defiance, and in that time he had heard no +word from his lieutenant. There were but three days more. + +If it were his habit to act on impulse, as his wonderful quickness led +men to believe, he would have gone straight to Tillman City, and carried +on his fight there in person. But on reflection he concluded that his +presence there would be likely to ruin whatever schemes Bridge might be +working out. “I'll wait a little longer,” he thought. + +Bridge was in the hospital. His landlady had found him in his room about +an hour after the fever overtook him, and visions of a red quarantine +card on her door-post had such disquieting force that in an incredibly +short time the doctor and the oldest boarder were carrying the +unconscious politician wrapped in a pair of blankets to the carriage +which was to take him thither. + +Tillman City was proud of its hospital, and the nursing and the medical +attention which Bridge received were as good as they could have been. +But after all it seemed to make little difference, for the fever raged +in him in spite of all efforts to break it. He lay, utterly insensible +to his surroundings, the object of the curiosity, as well as the +kindness, of those about him; for scarlet fever in a man, especially +so severe a case, is enough out of the ordinary to be interesting. +Sometimes his delirium became so violent that men had to hold him down +to the bed, but for the most of the time he simply rolled and tossed, +moaning softly or chattering unintelligible syllables. + +Wednesday evening his fever was slightly lower and he lay comparatively +quiet. Sitting by the screen which kept the light of the night lamp from +his eyes was Grace Burns. She had been a nurse only a little while, and +to her Bridge was not a case but a man. She felt a great pity for the +pathetic figure on the bed and, when she saw that it was good for him +to have her by, she spent more than half the hours of the twenty-four +watching him. She was a young woman, not yet thirty, and she had the +poise which comes from nerves that are never out of tune. Some of her +nervous strength she seemed to impart to him, and he was rarely violent +while under her care. + +Now as she watched him she saw him throw back the covers and sit up on +the edge of the bed. The movement was so quick that before she could +reach him he was struggling to his feet. + +“The contract,” he said. “I must take it to him right away.” His voice +and his inflection were perfectly natural. + +“Yes,” she said easily, “I'll attend to that. There's plenty of time. +Now lie down again.” + +He looked at her in a puzzled, questioning way, but obeyed, and in a few +moments his moaning told her that the dull fever dreams had again come +upon him. + +When the doctor came to make his last visit before the night, he looked +grave. + +“Has he had any lucid intervals?” he asked. + +She told him what had happened earlier in the evening. + +“It's hard to tell,” he said, “whether that was dreams or not.” + +As he started to go, she asked,-- + +“Did they tell you downstairs that some one had been here to see him?” + +He shook his head. + +“He came while I was down in the office, and they said he had been here +two or three times before. He wanted to see Mr. Bridge, he said, on a +very important business matter.” + +The doctor smiled. “I'm afraid,” he said, “that business will be +indefinitely postponed. Who was the man?” + +“He's one of our aldermen, Michael Blaney.” + +They were startled by a cry from the bed. Bridge was sitting bolt +upright, and terror was in his face. + +“Stop him, Weeks!” he gasped. “He's trying to choke me. Pull him off. +You said he shouldn't touch me.” + +The voice died away in a moan, and he sank back in the pillows, +breathing thickly. The nurse slipped quickly to his side, clasped his +wrist in her cool hand, and laid the other on his forehead, and in a few +moments his breath was coming more regularly and the mad light was gone +out of his eyes. + +The doctor looked on admiringly. “You'll pull him out of this if anybody +can,” he said. “It's strange he's got this Weeks business in his head. +He hasn't known anything since Sunday night, and there wasn't much about +it in the papers up to that time.” + +There was a silence while the doctor, after a long look at his patient, +turned and walked to the door. When he reached it he said:-- + +“There's something beside scarlet fever that keeps up that delirium, I +believe; something on his mind. I'd watch what he says pretty carefully, +if I were you. He may give you a clew to what's bothering him. Then +perhaps we can bring him around. Good night.” + +Grace Burns was not in the habit of reading the papers, for her +activities, her sympathies, and her thoughts were pretty well absorbed +without them, but on Thursday morning she read with eager interest +the account of the fight for the M. & T. railroad. She also read an +editorial on Jim Weeks, and then found out all she could from the +newspapers of the two days previous. When she had finished, she +abandoned a half-formed project of the night before to write to +Weeks and explain the situation to him on the chance of his being +of assistance. She saw on what a large scale this man did things and +concluded that it was unlikely that he had any connection with Bridge's +affairs, if, indeed, he had ever heard of him. He would be too busy to +pay much attention to anything she might write. + +All day long she listened to the sick man's continuous talk, hoping that +some meaning would transpire through the incoherent sentences, something +that would guide her to the source of his trouble; but her patience had +little reward. He spoke vaguely of a contract once or twice, and as many +times he mentioned the name of Jim Weeks, and at those times she thought +of her plan again; mentally she would begin framing the note she would +write to the great capitalist. But as often as she did this she realized +that she had nothing to say to him, and with a sigh she put the thought +away to wait at least until she could find out something more definite. + +The next morning, Friday, she read in the papers of the dramatic +happenings of the day before and of Jim Weeks's going to Chicago, +presumably for a conference with the Governor. The bigness of it +appalled her a little, and again the courage she had been storing up +over night to write the note oozed away. For after all it was a question +of courage, courage to do something which common sense called absurd on +the bare chance that it might do good. + +The day was a repetition of the day before, but late in the afternoon +the persistent thought, “it might do some good,” drove her to write to +Jim Weeks. The note read:-- + +“Mr. Bridge [she did not know his initials] is dangerously sick here in +the hospital. He has been delirious ever since he was brought here, and +has frequently called for you, sometimes as if he wanted to tell you +something, and at others as if he desired your protection. I write in +the hope that you will be able either to come or to suggest some clew to +his delusions which may enable us to remove them.” + +It was mailed that evening and reached Jim about noon Saturday. Not +half an hour afterward she received a telegram which took a load off her +mind:-- + + Shall reach Tillman at eight this evening and will drive direct to + the hospital. Please arrange it so I can see him immediately after I + arrive there. + +She was in the sick room watching, when Jim was shown in. He walked +directly to the bed and stood looking down at Bridge for a moment, and +then spoke to Grace Burns. + +“Has he any chance? What is it?” + +“It's scarlet fever. The doctor doesn't seem to think there's much +hope.” + +“Poor devil,” said Jim under his breath. + +The nurse suddenly bent forward over the sick man, and motioned Jim to +silence. Bridge's lips were moving and he seemed to be struggling to +speak. + +“Yes, he's here,” said the nurse in answer to the half-heard question. + +Jim dropped on one knee beside the bed. “Yes, I'm Jim Weeks,” he said. +“Do you want to tell me anything?” + +Again it was the nurse's ear that caught the words, “My coat--in the +pocket--the contract.” + +“I'll get it,” she said quickly, and in a moment she had come back into +the room, with the coat Bridge had worn when they brought him to the +hospital. + +Jim took the coat, took a handful of papers out of the pockets and +glanced over them. A scrawled and crumpled sheet caught his eye, and +straightening it out he read it carefully, holding it close to the dim +night lamp. He stood erect again, staring intently at the grotesque +shadows on the screen. Grace Burns, who was watching him, saw that for +the moment Bridge was forgotten. + +But presently his face softened and a smile came into his eyes. Again he +went to the bedside and dropped on one knee. He spoke softly, but there +was a restrained ring in his voice. + +“You've saved us, Bridge; can you understand me? We're going to win out. +You were in time.” + +He took the thin hand that lay on the coverlet and it clasped his +convulsively. He looked curiously at the sick man, and then as the weak +grip was not relaxed he sat down on the side of the bed and waited. Five +minutes crept away, and another five, and then the slow easy breathing +told them that Bridge was asleep. + +As the hand let go of his, Weeks rose to go. The nurse followed him to +the door, where she said simply:-- + +“Thank you for coming. It saved his life.” + +“Then it was you who saved it,” said Jim. “And you saved me, too. I +won't forget it.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +THE WINNING OF THE ROAD + +The Chicago papers reach Tillman City by nine o'clock every morning, and +the inhabitants wait till then for information from the outside world. +At supper time they read fragmentary Associated Press despatches and a +more or less accurate chronicle of local happenings in _The Watchman_. +Since the coming of the new editor, Tillman's one daily had contrived +to worry along without the assistance of a patent inside, for he was an +ambitious young fellow with a knack for writing snappy editorials, and +he made the most of the meagre news the city furnished. + +He did not hear of Jim's arrival in town and his drive to the hospital +until next morning. When told of it, he laid down his pipe and began +slipping on his coat. + +“I suppose he's in town yet,” he said to the reporter who had brought +the news. “If he is, I'm going to see him; then I can make something out +of what he might have said. He's the kind that makes me mad. He's got +as good a story inside him as any man in the United States this morning, +but it would take a chemical process to get it out of him.” + +Jim was in his room at the Hotel Tremain, trying to decide upon the best +way to bring Blaney to terms. The most direct course would be to go +to Blaney and try to convince him of the worthlessness of McNally's +contract. Blaney was badly scared already: that was evident enough in +his manner during the interview Jim had had with him on the artesian +road. The two weeks of suspense, during which time it was clear that Jim +was winning, would not tend to increase Blaney's confidence. It would +not take much of a bluff to complete his demoralization. + +But the difficulty lay in the manner of approach. To make the bluff most +effective, Blaney should be frightened into seeking Jim. If he went to +Blaney's house, the contractor would probably suspect that some weakness +in Jim's position made him depend on Blaney's aid. Jim was not worrying +over the problem as other men worry, for he had been quite sincere +in telling Bridge that they were sure to win. Years of this kind of +fighting had given him a just estimate of the immense value of time, +and he had forty-eight hours left in which to get control of the Tillman +City stock. Campaigns have been lost and won again in less time than +that. + +When the bell-boy brought up the editor's card Jim stared at it a +moment, then told the boy to show him in. Had the boy looked up he would +have seen that Jim was smiling. His plan had come to him. + +When the editor came into the room he found Jim lounging in a big chair +with his feet on another, bent apparently on spending the morning in +luxurious idleness. Jim did not rise but greeted him cheerfully, and the +editor took the chair Jim nodded to and accepted the cigar Jim offered +him. This was the beginning of what the editor afterward spoke of as his +trance. + +For there sat Jim Weeks, the wary, the close-mouthed, the reporter's +despair, artlessly telling the whole inside history of the fight for the +M. & T. At first the editor hardly dared to breathe for fear of bringing +Jim to his senses and the story to a premature conclusion; but as the +President talked apparently in his right mind, the editor became bolder +and began asking questions. In answering, Jim told him that the fight +was practically over. It would formally be decided on Tuesday at the +stockholders' meeting; but as Jim and his allies controlled a majority +of the stock, the outcome was certain. + +Then having cleared away the preliminaries Jim came to the point. “Your +finance committee here in Tillman is going to vote your stock against +us, though,” he said. “Porter has pulled their leg with a fake contract, +and they're just about big enough fools to be caught by that sort of a +game. I've known about it for some time, and I might have done something +if we hadn't stood to win anyway. As it is they can't beat us, no matter +how they vote.” + +There were more questions and more perfectly frank answers, and at last +the editor knew practically all there was to know about the dealings +of the wily Mr. Blaney. Jim did not seem to take the contract very +seriously, but he was evidently perfectly familiar with its provisions. +When the editor rose to go his head was fairly awhirl. + +“Mr. Weeks,” he asked, “have you given this story to any one else?” + +“No,” said Jim. + +“We don't come out till to-morrow afternoon,” said the editor. “We +haven't a Sunday edition. Will the story be any good by that time?” + +“That's as you think,” said Jim. “I shan't give it to any one else.” + +The bewildered editor went on his way rejoicing, and Jim packed his bag +and started for Chicago. He had planted his mine under Blaney and he +could do nothing more with him until the time for exploding it. Jim was +satisfied with his plan. The story which _The Watchman_ was to print the +next afternoon was almost sure to scare Blaney into submission. True, +the time was short between the issue of the paper and the stockholders' +meeting, but this fact was after all rather to Jim's advantage than +otherwise. The only element of uncertainty in Jim's success lay in the +possible countermove which McNally might make to reassure Blaney. The +chances were, Jim thought, that McNally would not hear of the story in +_The Watchman_ until Tuesday morning. + +Jim reached Chicago late Sunday afternoon. + +On Monday he and Harvey were back in the office working on other +matters. Not until Tuesday morning did Jim start for Manchester, where +the stockholders' meeting was to be held that afternoon. + +At eleven o'clock Jim walked into the lobby of the Illinois House, +lighted a cigar at the news stand, nodded familiarly to the clerk, and +passed on into the writing room. The clerk said to a bell-boy,-- + +“Go into the bar and tell Mr. Blaney that Jim Weeks is here.” + +Blaney had been waiting for that message for the past hour, for he had +told the clerk to let him know as soon as Jim should arrive, and he had +expected him earlier; but now he only swore savagely at the bell-boy, +and ordered another whiskey. It was the last of a long series of +bracers, and it did its work a little too well. + +With soldierly erectness he walked out of the bar, across the lobby, and +into the writing room. Jim was writing at a desk and did not look up as +Blaney entered, so the contractor went round behind him and dropped his +hand heavily on Jim's shoulder. + +“I want to talk to you,” he said fiercely. + +Jim looked up as if to see who it was, and then turned back to his +writing. + +“Well, talk away,” he said. + +“I want to see you in private,” said Blaney, excited to rage by Jim's +indifference. + +Jim affected to consider for a moment; then he rose and led the way to +the office, where he told the clerk that he wanted a room for an hour or +so, and that on no account must he be disturbed. + +The two men climbed to the room in silence. When they reached it, Jim +followed Blaney in, locked the door behind him, and put the key in his +pocket. The action made Blaney nervous, and the warmth at the pit of +his stomach was beginning to be succeeded by something that felt like a +large lump of cold lead. + +“Well,” said Jim, “we're private enough now. What have you got to say?” + +Blaney pumped up all the bluster he could. + +“All I want to find out is, who wrote that story in _The Watchman_.” + +“That's all, is it?” said Jim. “I could have told you that downstairs. I +wrote it.” + +Then Blaney broke loose. He was working himself up to a perfect frenzy +of denials, accusations, threats, and blasphemy. The man was a pitiable +spectacle, and Jim, leaning back against the locked door, watched him in +mingled amusement and contempt. He was surprised that Blaney should have +become so utterly demoralized. He had never considered the contractor +a big man, or even a good fighter, but that he would go to pieces so +easily was unexpected. He did not know how violent the explosion in +Tillman had been. The town sided with Jim Weeks, and when the people +realized how he was to be sold out, the storm exceeded the editor's +wildest expectations, and Blaney was brought face to face with political +ruin. + +Jim let the almost hysterical rage expend itself before he interrupted. +Then he said:-- + +“Shut up, Blaney. You've made a fool of yourself long enough. And I've +fooled with you long enough. You've been trying ever since you were +alderman to throw me down. You've talked about how much you were going +to do, and all the while we've been laughing at you. Then this McNally +came along and set up you and Williams to a dinner at the Hotel Tremain +and paid you some money and gave you this fool contract, to get you to +vote the Tillman City proxies his way.” + +Jim took a copy of the contract out of his pocket and read it aloud, +while Blaney listened in stupid amazement. “McNally is a smart man,” + Jim went on, folding the contract and replacing it, “and he sized you up +just about right when he figured he could take you in with a fake like +this, that isn't worth the paper it is written on. And when you'd got +fooled so you thought C. & S.C. would pay par for your stock, what do +you do but go around and tell a man you know is working for me all about +it! And now when I've got you just where I want you, where you can only +wriggle, you come around and try to scare me. Do you know what you are? +You're just a plain damn fool.” + +Blaney did not seem to hear the last words of what was probably the +longest speech Jim Weeks had ever made. His attention had been riveted +on something else. + +“Bridge,” he exclaimed. “Bridge gave that away, did he?” + +“Yes,” said Jim; “Bridge gave me this contract. There's just about one +more fool thing you can do, Blaney, and that is try to touch him. Try +it! Why, man, if you do I'll break you to pieces.” The words had a ring +in them, but Jim quieted instantly. “I'm looking out for Bridge.” + +There was a long silence. Blaney dropped limply into a gaudy +rocking-chair and with a dirty handkerchief mopped the sweat out of his +eyes. Jim had not moved from his position before the door. His lips were +grave, but something in his eyes suggested that he was smiling. It was +Jim who spoke at last. + +“I don't believe you've got anything to say to me, and I haven't much +more to say to you. You've got the Tillman proxies for five thousand +shares and you're going to vote them in a couple of hours. You can vote +them either way you like. It doesn't make much difference to me because +I win by at least four thousand even if you go against me. But if you +do, you'll find it hard work a year from now to get a city job laying +bricks in Tillman. I'll guarantee that. If you choose to vote 'em my way +that story in _The Watchman_ will fall by its own weight. I'll leave you +alone so long as you don't monkey with Bridge.” + +“I won't monkey with Bridge,” said Blaney, sullenly; “but I'll tell you, +you're making a big mistake to take any stock in him. He's been lying to +you. I never saw that contract before. He came to me and tried to get +me to go up against you, and when I wouldn't he must have got up that +contract to get even with me. That's what made me so mad about that +story in the papers.” + +“I see,” said Jim, with unshaken gravity. “Well, there's no use in +talking any more, I guess. We understand each other.” And with these +words Jim unlocked the door and walked downstairs to dinner. + +By four o'clock it was all over; the road was won, and Jim, struggling +into his overcoat, was reflecting on how beautifully success succeeds. +For Blaney had not been the only one to change sides, and the result of +the election had been a sweeping victory, which surprised even Jim. The +stampede had caught Thompson and Wing, and the only holdings which had +been voted against him were those directly represented by Porter. Porter +had attended the meeting and was surprised to find that his relief at +having the fight well over was almost strong enough to make up for his +chagrin and disappointment at being defeated. + +He met Jim at the door, and after a word of commonplaces he inquired +after Harvey. + +“He's getting on all right,” said Jim. “He got a crack over the head +that's bothering him a little, but it's nothing serious.” + +“Weeks,” said Porter, abruptly, “I want a word with you about that +affair. That attempt to kidnap him was dirty business. I don't think +I need say that it was done without my sanction. The man who was +responsible for it is no longer in my employ. Good day.” + +“That,” mused Jim as he drove to the Northern Station, “is what comes of +having a daughter like Miss Katherine Porter.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +THE SURRENDER + +Jim looked up from a desk that was piled high with letters and +memoranda. + +“West, what do think of that?” he said, handing a type-written sheet +across to the other desk. + +It was an order addressed to Mattison, reinstating J. Donohue in the +passenger service of the M. & T. + +“He deserves it,” replied Harvey, briefly. “Shall I send it on?” + +“Yes.” + +Each turned back to his work. Such interruptions were rare now in Jim's +office in the Washington Building. For any man of wide and commanding +interests to drop his routine even for a day or so means a busy time +catching up later on; and in the case of Jim, who had lost all told the +better part of two weeks, the accumulation was almost disheartening, +particularly to Harvey. + +Although he had to come to Chicago early Friday morning, spending only +one night at the Oakwood Club, it was not until Monday that Harvey was +able to resume work. In the meantime he had neither seen nor heard +from Katherine. During that long night at the club he had planned, in +a feverish, restless way, to drive to her home in the morning; but the +morning saw him speeding to Chicago, weak and nerveless. During Friday +and Saturday he was confined to his room by order of the physician, but +on Sunday, a bright day, he walked out. + +His first letter to Katherine was written Saturday afternoon. It was a +simple statement, a manly plea for what he desired more than anything +else in the world, and as he read it over he felt that it must have an +effect. That it deeply moved Katherine was shown by the reply which came +on the following Tuesday. She did not waste words, but there was in her +little note an honest directness that left Harvey helpless to reply. +She made no concealment of her love, though not stating it, but repeated +practically what she had said that afternoon at the club. Again it was, +“We must wait--” even indefinitely. Harvey read the note many times. +Tuesday night he sat down with a wild idea of answering it, but his +inner sense of delicacy restrained him. She had put the matter in such a +light, practically throwing herself on his generosity, his love for her, +that he realized that to write again would only make her duty harder. +And in the intervals when Harvey's passionate impatience gave way +to calmer reflection, he knew that he loved her the better for her +strength. + +Wednesday and Thursday passed. Harvey's complete recovery was slow, +though he worked hard at his desk; even the news of Jim's victory seemed +to have little effect on him. He was listless, his work contained little +of the old vigor and energy, and there were rings under his eyes. +Jim said nothing, but he had not been blind to Katherine's tell-tale +interest when Harvey was found. He knew Harvey, even better than the +younger man suspected. From the nature of his work and experience Jim +had learned to read human nature,--probably that faculty had much to do +with his success,--and the fact that in Harvey's make-up were certain of +his own rugged characteristics had drawn him to Harvey more than to +any other man of his acquaintance: this in addition to the one touch +of sentiment that had influenced Jim's whole career, for he could not +forget that Harvey was the son of the only woman he had ever loved. + +Thursday evening Jim sat down to his solitary dinner with a feeling of +utter loneliness. There came back to him, clearer than for a quarter of +a century, all the yearning, the unrest, the self-abandon of his love +for Ethel Harvey. The years had rounded him, and built up in him a +sturdy character; he stood before the world a man of solid achievement, +calm, successful, satisfied. His spreading interests, his intricate +affairs, the prestige and credit of his position--these had combined to +concentrate his energies, to hold, day and night, his thoughts, crowding +out alike dreams and memories. He had given the best of his life, not +for gold, but for power, credit, influence. The struggle had fascinated +him, he had risen to each new emergency with a thrill at the thought of +grappling with men of mettle, of calling into play each muscle of +the system he had organized. But as he left the table and walked with +unelastic step into the library, there rose before him the picture of +Harvey, weak and pale but filled nevertheless with the vigor of youthful +blood, stretched on a couch, while over him, gentle in her womanhood, +Katherine was bending. As the scene came back he again moved through it, +and again, as he turned to go, he caught a glimpse of her eyes, and he +saw in them the look that no man can view without a prayer, a look that +melted through the crust of years and left Jim's heart bare. + +It was dark in the library, but he cared not. He sat before the wide +table staring at the shadows. For the first time in many years he was +far from stocks and from the world. He tried madly, desperately, then +humbly, to fight down the other picture--that of the only other woman +whose eyes had reached his heart; but the struggle was too great, and +with head buried on his outstretched arms Jim gave way to a flood burst +of memory that poured out years in moments. + +Some time later he raised his head. Habits so fixed as Jim's will +assert themselves even in moments of stress, and now what was almost +an instinct urged him to such action as would even slightly ease the +strain. Harvey was his hope, Harvey's happiness and Katherine's was +all that appealed to him now, and so with set teeth he rang for his +carriage. Jim Weeks had faced many problems, he had gone lightly into +many battles, but never before had his energies been so set upon a +single object. + +Jim drove direct to Harvey's rooms, and, finding them dark, walked +in, lighted up, drew down the curtains, and sank wearily into the +easy-chair. He was by this time near his old self, save for the wrinkles +about his eyes, which seemed deeper. He had not before been in Harvey's +quarters, and he looked about with almost nervous interest. Later he +picked up the evening paper and tried to read, but dropped it and +took to walking about the room. On the mantel was the Kodak picture of +Katherine, and he paused to look at it. It so held his interest that he +did not hear the door open five minutes later. + +Harvey closed the door and threw his overcoat on a chair. + +“Beg pardon for keeping you waiting,” he said, apparently not surprised +at Jim's presence. “If I had known you were here, I'd have come back +earlier. Been out for a little exercise.” + +Jim nodded, and turned back to the photograph. + +“This is Porter's daughter, isn't it?” he said abruptly. + +With a brief “Yes,” Harvey threw himself into a chair by the table. +After a moment Jim turned and stood with his back to the mantel, looking +at Harvey, then he crossed over and sat down. + +“West, I've been thinking of you to-night, and I've come over to have +a talk with you. You are in bad shape. You show it plain enough. If it +were any other time, if we weren't already so far behind with our work, +I'd send you off somewhere for a vacation. You need it.” + +Harvey smiled wearily. + +“A fellow can't expect to get over a row like that in a day or so. I'll +be all right in a week.” + +“Look here,” Jim leaned back and looked squarely at Harvey, “why don't +you own up? Why don't you tell me about it? It's--it's her, isn't it?” + indicating the photograph. + +Harvey returned Jim's gaze with an expression of some surprise, then +he leaned forward and looked at the carpet, resting his elbows on his +knees. + +“Of course,” Jim continued, “it isn't exactly in my line, but I might +be able to bring some common sense to bear on it. When a man's +bothered about a girl, he's likely to need a little common sense. I +understand--of course--if you'd rather not talk about it----” + +There was a long silence. Harvey broke it. + +“I don't know but what you're right. I haven't known just what to do. +Things are pretty much mixed up. You want me to tell you?” + +Jim nodded. + +“It isn't that she doesn't care for me. I think she does. You know she's +always honest. But somehow it strikes her as a question of duty. She +loves her father, and she feels that she hasn't been loyal to him. I've +written to her,--I've used up all my arguments,--but she puts it in such +a way that I can't say another word without actually hurting her. To her +mind it's just a plain case of right and wrong, and that settles it. You +know she's that kind of a girl.” + +“Yes,” said Jim, “I suppose she is.” + +“I've gone over and over it until I'm all at sea. I don't seem to have +a grip on myself. I can't write to her or go to see her. It would be +simply dishonorable after the way she has talked to me--and written.” + Harvey rose and walked to the mantel, resting his elbows on it and +looking at the photograph. + +“When was it?” asked Jim. “That day in the Oakwood Club?” + +“Yes.” + +“And you know she loves you?” + +“I didn't say I knew it.” + +“Well, then, I do.” + +At this Harvey turned, but Jim's face was quiet. + +“Yes, I know it. You say there is nothing in the way but her father?” + +“That is all I know about.” + +“I can ease your mind on that. I had a short talk with Porter Tuesday, +and I think he's a little ashamed of himself. He told me that he was +against that kidnapping scheme and that he has broken with McNally. +Probably Miss Porter has had a talk with him by this time,--I don't see +how they could help it,--and if she has, I guess some of her ideas have +changed a little.” + +Jim paused, but as Harvey stood facing the mantel without speaking he +went on:-- + +“There's just one thing for you to do, West. You go down there and begin +all over again. If she's got any pride, she won't write to you--Why, +man, any girl would expect--You've got to! Understand? You've got to!” + +As he spoke Jim rose and stood erect; then, as Harvey still was silent, +he took to pacing the floor. Harvey was looking, not at the picture, +but through it into a calm summer night on the river, when Katherine +had given him that first glimpse of herself, the woman he loved and was +always to love. He saw her beside him in the trap, watching with bright, +eager eyes the striding bays, and later tugging at his watch-fob. He saw +her in the gray twilight, bending down over him and saying in that low +thrilling voice: “We don't know what may happen. We only know what is +right for us now.” As he slowly turned around he felt a mist come over +his eyes and he was not ashamed. Jim stopped and stood looking at him. +Harvey asked simply,-- + +“Can you spare me over Sunday?” + +“You'd better go to-morrow.” + +“But the work?” + +“I don't want to hear about that,”--Jim's voice was gruff,--“you take +the morning train. Don't come back till you're ready.” + +Their eyes met in embarrassed silence, then Harvey sat at the table and +wrote a few words. + +“Will you have your man send that tonight?” he asked, handing it to Jim. +“It's a telegram.” + +Jim took it, slowly folded it, and put it into his pocket. He reached +for his coat, and Harvey helped him put it on. Several times Jim started +to speak, but it was not until one glove was on and his hat in his hand +that he got it out:-- + +“I'll tell you, West, I--A man learns something from experience, one +way or another. I've known what such things are--I know what it means +to love a woman, and to try to live without her.” He suddenly gripped +Harvey's hand, holding it for a moment with a silent, nervous pressure, +and Harvey felt the perspiration on his palm. “I made a mistake, West, +and I've paid for it--I'm paying for it now. If I hadn't--If I had made +it right, she would have been--you would have--” The words seemed +to choke him, and with a strange expression he loosened his grip and +started toward the door. Halfway he turned. As he stood there, stalwart +yet humble, a new pathos crept into his features. “West, a man doesn't +get much in this world if he waits for things to straighten themselves +out. Good night.” + +Before Harvey could recover from a certain awkwardness, Jim had gone. +He could hear the heavy tread on the stairs. Then came the slam of a +carriage door, and he knew that Jim was going back to the big, empty +house. + +The next morning, Friday, Harvey took the early train for Truesdale. He +picked up a carriage at the station and drove rapidly out to Porter's +home. From the porte-cochere he hastened to the door, rang the bell, and +asked for her. In the wide hall he stood, coat still buttoned, hat in +hand, looking eagerly up the stairway. In a moment she appeared (he +could not know that she had been watching for him), coming slowly down +the stairs, not hesitating, but holding back with a touch of the old +dignity. For the moment her beauty, her strong womanhood, gave Harvey a +sense of awe, and he stood looking up at her, not knowing that his +eyes told the story. And then, as she stayed on the lower step, a quiet +assertiveness came over him, and he stepped forward. + +“Katherine,” he said, and extended both hands. + +She still hesitated, looking at him with eyes that seemed to question, +to read his as if searching for something she feared might not be there; +then she took the last step and stood before him. + +“Katherine,” he repeated, but stopped again, for now her eyes were +shining on him with a look that thrilled and exalted him, and with +sudden joy in his heart he drew her to him. + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Short Line War, by Samuel Merwin + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHORT LINE WAR *** + +***** This file should be named 8385-0.txt or 8385-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/3/8/8385/ + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Beth Trapaga and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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