"Had quite a time up there in Michigan," he said. "Those G.&M. people were
after us in earnest. If they'd had their way, we'd never have got the
cribbing."

She looked up.

"You see, they had told Sloan--he's the man that owns the lumber company
and the city of Ledyard and pretty much all of the Lower Peninsula--that
they hadn't any cars; and he'd just swallowed it down and folded up his
napkin. I hadn't got to Ledyard before I saw a string of empties on a
siding that weren't doing a thing but waiting for our cribbing, so I
caught a train to Blake City and gave the Division Superintendent some
points on running railroads. He was a nice, friendly man."--Bannon clasped
his hands about one knee and smiled reminiscently--"I had him pretty busy
there for a while thinking up lies. He was wondering how he could get
ready for the next caller, when I came at him and made him wire the
General Manager of the line. The operator was sitting right outside the
door, and when the answer came I just took it in--it gave the whole snap
away, clear as you want."

Miss Vogel turned on her stool.

"You took his message?"

"I should say I did. It takes a pretty lively man to crowd me off the end
of a wire. He told the superintendent not to give us cars. That was all I
wanted to know. So I told him how sorry I was that I couldn't stay to
lunch, caught the next train back to Ledyard, and built a fire under
Sloan."