Calumet 'K'. Webster Henry Kitchell

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СКАЧАТЬ we'll ask you for it. Victory isn't in my division anyway."

      "Then wire the general manager. He ought to know something about it."

      "Wire him yourself, if you like. I can't bother about it. I'm sorry I can't do anything, but I haven't got time."

      "I haven't begun sending telegrams yet. And I haven't very much more time to fool away. I'd like to have you find out if the Ledyard Salt and Lumber Company can have those cars that are on the siding at Victory."

      "All right," said the superintendent, rising. At the door he turned back to ask, "When was it you saw them?"

      Bannon decided to chance it. "Yesterday morning," he said.

      The superintendent returned presently, and, turning to his desk, resumed his work. A few minutes later the telegraph operator came in and told him that the cars at Victory had been loaded with iron truss work the night before, and had gone off down the State.

      "Just too late, wasn't I?" said Bannon. "That's hard luck." He went to the window and, staring out into the yards, began tapping idly with his pencil on the glass. The office door was open, and when he paused he heard the telegraph instrument just without, clicking out a message.

      "Anything else I can do for you?" asked the superintendent. His good humor was returning at the sight of his visitor's perplexity.

      "I wish you'd just wire the general manager once more and ask him if he can't possibly let us have those cars."

      "All right," said the other, cheerfully. He nodded to the operator. "For the Ledyard Salt and Lumber Company," he said.

      Bannon dropped into a chair, stretched himself, and yawned. "I'm sleepy," he said; "haven't had any sleep in three weeks. Lost thirty-two pounds. If you fellows had only got that cribbing down on time, I'd be having a vacation – "

      Another yawn interrupted him. The telegraph receiver had begun giving out the general manager's answer.

      Tell-Ledyard-we-hope-to-have-cars-in-a-few-days-

      The superintendent looked at Bannon, expecting him to finish his sentence, but he only yawned again.

      obey-previous-instructions. – Do-not-give-Ledyard-cars-in-any-case-

      Bannon's eyes were half closed, but the superintendent thought he was turning a little toward the open doorway.

      "Do you feel cold?" he asked. "I'll shut the door."

      He rose quickly and started toward it, but Bannon was there before him. He hesitated, his hand on the knob.

      "Why don't you shut it?" snapped the superintendent.

      "I think I'll – I think I'll send a telegram."

      "Here's a blank, in here. Come in." But Bannon had slipped out and was standing beside the operator's table. From the doorway the superintendent saw him biting his pencil and frowning over a bit of paper. The general manager's message was still coming in.

      We-don't-help-put-up-any-grain-elevator-in-Chicago-these-days.

      As the last click sounded, Bannon handed his message to the operator. "Send it collect," he said. With that he strode away, over the hand rail, this time, and down the stairs. The operator carried the message to the superintendent.

      "It seems to be for you," he said.

      The superintendent read —

      Div. Supt. G. & M., Blake City. Tell manager it takes better man than him to tie us up.

MacBride & Company.

      Bannon had nearly an hour to wait for the next train back to Ledyard, but it was not time wasted, for as he paced the smoky waiting room, he arrived at a fairly accurate estimate of the meaning of the general manager's message.

      It was simply a confirmation of the cautious prediction he had made to Peterson the night before. Why should any one want to hinder the construction of an elevator in Chicago "these days" except to prevent its use for the formal delivery of grain which the buyer did not wish delivered? And why had Page & Company suddenly ordered a million bushel annex? Why had they suddenly become anxious that the elevator should be ready to receive grain before January first, unless they wished to deliver a vast amount of December wheat? Before Bannon's train came in he understood it all. A clique of speculators had decided to corner wheat, an enterprise nearly enough impossible in any case, but stark madness unless they had many millions at command. It was a long chance, of course, but after all not wonderful that some one in their number was a power in the reorganized G. & M.

      Already the immense amount of wheat in Chicago was testing the capacity of the registered warehouses, and plainly, if the Calumet K should be delayed long enough, it might prevent Page & Company from carrying out their contract to deliver two million bushels of the grain, even though it were actually in the cars in Chicago.

      Bannon knew much of Page & Company; that dotted all over the vast wheat tracts of Minnesota and Montana were their little receiving elevators where they bought grain of the farmers; that miles of wheat-laden freight cars were already lumbering eastward along the railroad lines of the North. He had a touch of imagination, and something of the enormous momentum of that Northern wheat took possession of him. It would come to Chicago, and he must be ready for it. It would be absurd to be balked by the refusal of a little single-track road up in Michigan to carry a pile of planks.

      He paused before the grated window of the ticket and telegraph office and asked for a map. He studied it attentively for a while; then he sent a telegram: —

      MacBride & Company, Minneapolis: G. & M. R. R. wants to tie us up. Will not furnish cars to carry our cribbing. Can't get it elsewhere inside of three weeks. Find out if Page will O. K. any bill of extras I send in for bringing it down. If so, can they have one or more steam barges at Manistogee within forty-eight hours? Wire Ledyard Hotel. C. H. Bannon.

      It was an hour's ride back to Ledyard. He went to the hotel and persuaded the head waiter to give him something to eat, although it was long after the dinner hour. As he left the dining room, the clerk handed him two telegrams. One read: —

      Get cribbing down. Page pays the freight. Brown.

      The other: —

      Steam barge Demosthenes leaves Milwaukee to-night for Manistogee. Page & Co.

      CHAPTER IV

      As Bannon was paying for his dinner, he asked the clerk what sort of a place Manistogee was. The clerk replied that he had never been there, but that he understood it was quite a lively town.

      "Good road over there?"

      "Pretty fair."

      "That means you can get through if you're lucky."

      The clerk smiled. "It won't be so bad to-day. You see we've been getting a good deal of rain. That packs down the sand. You ought to get there all right. Were you thinking of driving over?"

      "That's the only way to go, is it? Well, I'll see. Maybe a little later. How far is it?"

      "The farmers call it eighteen miles."

      Bannon nodded his thanks and went back to Sloan's office.

      "Well, СКАЧАТЬ