the Pacific Southwestern System. And, it was largely for the sake of
these qualities that Ford locked his hands over one knee and spoke as a
man and a comrade.

"Let me tell you, Howard--you've no idea what a savage fight we've had
in New York, absorbing these same demoralized three hundred miles. You
know why we were obliged to have them. If the Transcontinental had
beaten us, it meant that our competitor would build over here from
Jack's Canyon, divide the Copah business with us, and have a line three
hundred miles nearer to the Nevada gold-fields than ours."

"I understand," said Lidgerwood; and the vice-president went on.

"Since the failure of the Red Butte 'pocket' mines, the road and the
country it traverses have been practically given over to the cowmen, the
gulch miners, the rustlers, and the drift from the big camps elsewhere.
In New York and on the Street, Red Butte Western was regarded as an
exploded cartridge--a kite without a tail. It was only a few weeks ago
that it dawned upon our executive committee that this particular kite
without a tail offered us a ready-made jump of three hundred miles
toward Tonopah and Goldfield. We began buying quietly for the control
with the stock at nineteen. Naturally the Transcontinental people caught
on, and in twenty-four hours we were at it, hammer and tongs."

Lidgerwood nodded. "I kept up with it in the newspapers," he cut in.

"The newspapers didn't print the whole story; not by many chapters," was
the qualifying rejoinder. "When the stock had gone to par and beyond,
our own crowd went back on us; and after it had passed the two-hundred
mark, Adair and I were fighting it practically alone. Even President