was in the hands of Wall Street men; and neither Judge Dupree nor
General Montague had realised at that time the hopelessness of the
plight of the little railroad.

All these matters were brought up in the conversation between Lucy
and Montague. There was no reason, he assured her, why they should
still hold on to their stock; if, by the proposed extension, or by
any other plan, new capitalists could make a success of the company,
it would be well to make some combination with them. or, better yet,
to sell out entirely. Montague promised that he would take the
matter in hand and see what he could do.

His first thought, as he went down town, was of Jim Hegan. "Come and
see me sometime," Hegan had said, and Montague had never accepted
the invitation. The Northern Mississippi would, of course, be a mere
bagatelle to a man like Hegan, but who could tell what new plans he
might be able to fit it into? Montague knew by the rumours in the
street that the great financier had sold out all his holdings in two
or three of his most important ventures.

He went at once to Hegan's office, in the building of one of the
great insurance companies downtown. He made his way through
corridors of marble to a gate of massively ornamented bronze, behind
which stood a huge guardian in uniform, also massively ornamented.
Montague generally passed for a big man, but this personage made him
feel like an office-boy.

"Is Mr. Hegan in?" he asked.

"Do you call by appointment?" was the response.