"Yes, that's about it. I've asked for cars and can't get 'em, except a few each day." "Do the other mines along this little branch railroad have the same trouble?" "There is only one other mine on this line." "Well, does it encounter the same difficulty in marketing its coal?" "No--at least not to so great an extent. You see somebody there is standing in with the railroad people. I suppose they've had a little block of stock given to them--the railroad people, I mean. So the Quentin mines get all the cars they want, and we get only their leavings." "Well, now, Mr. Davidson, I give you this order: Set to work at once and bring out every ton of coal you've got ready in the mine. There'll be cars here to haul it when you get it ready. Good-night, Mr. Davidson. I'll talk with you another time about the other matters. I have a good deal to do to-night, so I can't talk further with you now." Davidson went out after a grudging "good-night." Duncan did not yet know or suspect, though he was presently to find out, that to Davidson, also, the proprietors of the rival mine were paying a little tribute, as a reward for silence and for making trouble. Duncan sat for an hour writing letters. The typewriting machine had not been invented at that time, and even if it had been Duncan would have preferred to write these letters himself. One of them was addressed to the General Freight Agent of the little railroad on which the mine was situated. It read as follows: Within six days I shall have one hundred car loads of coal at the mouth of this mine, ready for shipment upon orders. After that time I shall have about sixty car loads ready for shipment each day. Please see to it that an adequate supply of cars to move this freight are side-tracked here on time. Duncan signed that letter with all needed circumspection. The signature read: For the Redwood Coal and Iron Company; Guilford Duncan, Manager and Attorney at Law and in Fact for the Company. That subscription was intended as an intimation. When on the next afternoon the General Freight Agent, who had several times met Duncan at Captain Hallam's house, read the letter, his attention was at once attracted--precisely as Guilford Duncan had intended that it should be, by the elaborate formality of the signature. "So Hallam's got that smart young man of his at work, has he?" the Freight Agent muttered. "Well, we'll see what we can do with him." But he deliberately waited till nine o'clock that night before responding. Then opening the telegraph key at his elbow, he called Duncan, and Duncan, who had learned telegraphing, as he had learned many other things, as a part of his equipment for work, promptly went to his key and answered the call. The General Freight Agent spelled out this message: "Simply impossible to furnish cars you ask. Haven't got them." Duncan responded: