“That is better,” said David coolly. “They’ll get around the obstruction, no doubt, but it will hold them for a little while. Now for our part of it. You once remarked that the law doesn’t reach this far from the nearest court-house. We don’t know, officially, that these men are coming as officers, and we’ll act upon that ignorance. You go over to the bunk shacks and turn out a handful of Brady’s day-shift men. Tell them to bring pick-handles. Then go to the light plant and tell the night engineer to listen for a pistol shot. If he hears one, he is to pull the switch on the yard circuit and leave us in the dark.” “So that the Lushing crowd won’t be able to identify any of us?” “So that we shan’t be able to identify them--as officers.” “Once more I’m apologizing to you,” said Plegg, in mild irony. “Anything else?” “Nothing, except that you are to pick your men, and let it be understood that the raiders are after Mr. Grillage and me. If you pick the right men, they’ll fight for that. I’ll run over to the _Athenia_ and get Mr. Grillage out of the way. I don’t want to have him mixed up in this, even by implication.” As Plegg went one way, David went the other, hurrying across to the private Pullman, which he knew was occupied because it was lighted. When he pushed through the vestibule swing-door he found the contractor-king poring over an estimate sheet. Taken for an instant off his guard, the big man looked haggard and care-worn. It was this that made David begin with a sober protest. “You put in too many hours down here, Mr. Grillage,” he said, much as he might have said it to his own father. “How about that fishing trip you were going to take with Dad?” “We’re going, pretty soon, now,” was the gruff reply. And then: “David, you’re right; I’ve got too darned many irons in the fire, and some of ’em get too hot, and some of ’em freeze. Hurry up and get through with this Short Line crucifixion, so you can take hold and blow some of the other bellowses for me.” “‘Crucifixion’ is right!” said David, with a workmanlike scowl. “I haven’t worried you much about the job lately, but the railroad people--with Lushing egging them on, of course--have been mighty active for the past few days--perniciously active, I’d say. I didn’t know what was up until just now; though I’ve been ready for anything. It seems they’ve been trying to find a peg upon which to hang a legal fight, and they think they’ve found it--just what sort of a peg, I don’t know.” “Legal, you say; do you mean criminal?” “Plegg thinks it may be; based on alleged jerry-work on the bridges, or something of that sort. Anyhow, Lushing is on his way up here with a gang of subsidized deputies, and Crawford telephones that the object of the raid is to arrest you and me.” “Huh!” grunted the giant, straightening himself in his chair. “Going to try that, is he?” “So Crawford says. I came to ask you to go up to the hotel and let me handle it.” “What are you going to do?”