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Page 61
Click-lick-lick! "Couldn't you better that?"
"Not on those grades. That gives 'em sixty hours from here to
Chicago. They won't gain anything by taking a special east of that.
Ready? Also arrange with Lake Shore and Michigan Southern to
take 'Constance' on New York Central and Hudson River Buffalo
to Albany, and B. and A. the same Albany to Boston. Indispensable
I should reach Boston Wednesday evening. Be sure nothing
prevents. Have also wired Canniff, Toucey, and Barnes. --Sign,
Cheyne."
Miss Kinzey nodded, and the secretary went on.
"Now then. Canniff, Toucey, and Barnes, of course. Ready?
Canniff, Chicago. Please take my private car 'Constance' from
Santa Fe at Sixteenth Street next Tuesday p. m. on N. Y. Limited
through to Buffalo and deliver N. Y. C. for Albany.--Ever bin to N'
York, Miss Kinzey? We'll go some day.--Ready? Take car Buffalo
to Albany on Limited Tuesday p. m. That's for Toucey."
"Haven't bin to Noo York, but I know that!" with a toss of the
head.
"Beg pardon. Now, Boston and Albany, Barnes, same instructions
from Albany through to Boston. Leave three-five P. M. (you
needn't wire that); arrive nine-five P. M. Wednesday. That covers
everything Wade will do, but it pays to shake up the managers."
"It's great," said Miss Kinzey, with a look of admiration. This was
the kind of man she understood and appreciated.
"'Tisn't bad," said Milsom, modestly. "Now, any one but me would
have lost thirty hours and spent a week working out the run,
instead of handing him over to the Santa Fe' straight through to
Chicago."
"But see here, about that Noo York Limited. Chauncey Depew
himself couldn't hitch his car to her," Miss Kinzey suggested,
recovering herself.
"Yes, but this isn't Chauncey. It's Cheyne--lightning. It goes."
"Even so. Guess we'd better wire the boy. You've forgotten that,
anyhow."
"I'll ask."
When he returned with the father's message bidding Harvey meet
them in Boston at an appointed hour, he found Miss Kinzey
laughing over the keys. Then Milsom laughed too, for the frantic
clicks from Los Angeles ran: "We want to know why-why-why?
General uneasiness developed and spreading."
Ten minutes later Chicago appealed to Miss Kinzey in these
words: "If crime of century is maturing please warn friends in
time. We are all getting to cover here."
This was capped by a message from Topeka (and wherein Topeka
was concerned even Milsom could not guess): "Don't shoot,
Colonel. We'll come down."
Cheyne smiled grimly at the consternation of his enemies when the
telegrams were laid before him. "They think we're on the warpath.
Tell 'em we don't feel like fighting just now, Milsom. Tell 'em
what we're going for. I guess you and Miss Kinsey had better come
along, though it isn't likely I shall do any business on the road. Tell
'em the truth--for once."
So the truth was told. Miss Kinzey clicked in the sentiment while
the secretary added the memorable quotation, "Let us have peace,"
and in board rooms two thousand miles away the representatives
of sixty-three million dollars' worth of variously manipulated
railroad interests breathed more freely. Cheyne was flying to meet
the only son, so miraculously restored to him. The bear was
seeking his cub, not the bulls. Hard men who had their knives
drawn to fight for their financial lives put away the weapons and
wished him God-speed, while half a dozen panic-smitten tin-pot
toads perked up their heads and spoke of the wonderful things they
would have done had not Cheyne buried the hatchet.
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