ventured Penfield.

Ford looked up quickly.

"It won't be necessary. You can handle the office work, as you have
heretofore, and Mr. Frisbie will have full charge out of doors."

Penfield looked a little crestfallen.

"Am I to take orders from Mr. Frisbie?" he asked, as one determined to
know the worst.

"Just the same as you would from me," said the superintendent, swinging
up to the step of the moving car. And the chief clerk went back to his
office busily concocting another cipher message to the general manager.

On the way down the canyon Ford was saying to himself that he was now
fairly committed to the scheme over which he had spent so many toilful
days and sleepless nights, and that he would have it out with Mr. North
to a fighting conclusion before he slept.

But a freight wreck got in the way while the down passenger train was
measuring the final third of the distance, and it was long after office
hours in the Pacific Southwestern headquarters when Ford reached Denver.

By consequence, the crucial interview with the general manager had to be
postponed; and the enthusiast was chafing at his ill luck when he went
to his hotel--chafing and saying hard words, for the waiting had been
long, and now that the psychologic moment had arrived, delays were
intolerable.