Poundstone, Junior, should be one of the most highly prized members
of the legal staff of a public-service corporation.

When he could control his emotions, Mr. Ogilvy gazed approvingly upon
Henry Poundstone. "Mr. Poundstone," he said solemnly, "I have met
some meteoric young attorneys in my day, but you're the first genuine
comet I have seen in the legal firmament. Do you mind telling me
exactly how you procured this franchise--and why you procured it
without explicit orders from me?"

Henry did his best to look puzzled. "Why," he said, "you left that
telegram with me, and I concluded that you regarded it as self-
explanatory or else had forgotten to mention it. I knew you were
busy, and I didn't want to bother you with details, so I just went
ahead and filled the order for you. Anything wrong about that?"

"Certainly not. It's perfectly wonderful. But how did you put it
over?"

Henry smirked. "My dad's the engineer," he said bluntly. "If thirty
days ain't enough time, see me and I'll get you thirty days more. And
in the meantime nobody knows a thing about this little deal. What's
more, they won't know. I figured Colonel Pennington might try to
block you at that crossing so I--"

Buck Ogilvy extended his hand in benediction and let it drop lightly
on Henry Poundstone's thin shoulder. Henry quivered with anticipation
under that gentle accolade and swallowed his heart while the great
Ogilvy made a portentous announcement.