“Yes, and if we g-g-git an order for bowls and things from that firm Zadok told us about, why, we’ll be busier ’n ever,” says he. So we went back to the mill, and Binney was there, and so was Tallow. The mail had come and there was a letter giving us an order for bowls and turned stuff and asking us to ship at once. Mark said the prices was as good as he expected, and better, and that if we could keep on getting such prices we would make a nice lot of money. “How about a car?” he says to Tallow. “Can’t git none,” says Tallow. “Why can’t we git one? We got to git one.” “Nobody in Wicksville can git one, nor nobody on this branch, seems like. Somethin’s happened somewheres and there hain’t no cars, and if there was we couldn’t have any, because the railroad has let on to the agent here that he dassen’t accept any shipments to the city. He said it was an embargo.” “Embargo,” says Mark, “I wonder what one of them is?” “Why,” says Tallow, “an embargo means when the railroad won’t let you ship to a place or from a place or somethin’ like that.” “How long is it goin’ to l-last?” “Maybe a week, maybe a month, maybe all the year,” says Tallow. “There hain’t enough cars to go around, and the railroad yards in the city is crowded with cars that they can’t git men to unload, and that kind of thing.” “Hum!” says Mark. “Perty kettle of fish. Embargo. How in tunket be we g-g-goin’ to send out stuff, then, I’d like to know?” “We hain’t goin’ to,” says Tallow. “But we g-got to. We jest _got_ to.” “They won’t let us.” “There must be some kind of a way. We got to ship as f-f-fast as we manufacture, and get the money back, or we can’t pay the men and keep goin’. If we was held back from shippin’ for two weeks we would be b-busted.” “And Wiggamore would get the dam and the mill,” says I. “He hain’t got ’em yet,” says Mark, “and he hain’t g-goin’ to get ’em.” “What’ll we do,” says I, “drag our chair stock and bowls and things around in carts? It would take quite a spell to git a car-load to the city, or even to Bostwick, that way.” “I don’t know _how_ we’re goin’ to do it, but we’re goin’ to. You f-fellers git to work and I’ll go and f-figger on this. We got to hit on some scheme, and we got to hit on it right off. These here goods has got to be shipped immediate, because we got to have the money.” So he went and sat down in the office, and I could see him pinching his cheek and pulling his ear like he always does when he is puzzling out something. He kept at it more than an hour, and then I saw him come out and get a piece of wood and take out his jack-knife to whittle. At that I got scairt, for he never whittles till he’s in the last ditch. When everything else fails he takes to his jack-knife, and when he does that it’s time to get worried. He whittled and whittled and whittled, and nothing come of it. You see, he hadn’t ever had any experience with railroads, and he didn’t know what kind of a scheme would work with them.