"That you, Rondeau?" he shouted when the big French Canadian
responded. "Pennington talking. What has young Cardigan done about
those rails I sold him from the abandoned spur up Laurel Creek?"

"He have two flat-cars upon ze spur now. Dose woods-gang of hees she
tear up dose rails from ze head of ze spur and load in ze flat-cars."

"The ears haven't left the Laurel Creek spur, then?"

"No, she don't leave yet."

"See to it, Rondeau, that they do not leave until I give the word.
Understand? Cardigan's woods-boss will call you up and ask you to
send a switch-engine tip to snake them out late this afternoon or to-
morrow afternoon. Tell him the switch-engine is in the shop for
repairs or is busy at other work--anything that will stall him off
and delay delivery."

"Suppose Bryce Cardigan, he comes around and say 'Why?'" Rondeau
queried cautiously.

"Kill him," the Colonel retorted coolly. "It strikes me you and the
Black Minorca are rather slow playing even with young Cardigan."

Rondeau grunted. "I theenk mebbe so you kill heem yourself, boss," he
replied enigmatically, and hung up.