Judge MacFarlane was mercifully brief. On the part of the plaintiff there was an amended petition fully fortified by uncontroverted affidavits. On the part of the defendant company there was nothing but a formal denial of the allegations. The duty of the court in the premises was clear. The prayer of the plaintiff was granted, the temporary relief asked for was given, and the order of the court would issue accordingly. The judge was rising when the still, hot air of the room began to vibrate with the tremulous thunder of the sound for which Hunnicott had been so long straining his ears. He was the first of the three to hear it, and he hurried out ahead of the others. At the foot of the stair he ran blindly against Kent, dusty, travel-worn and haggard. "You're too late!" he blurted out. "We're done up. Hawk's petition has been granted and the road is in the hands of a receiver." Kent dashed his fist upon the stair-rail. "Who is the man?" he demanded. "Major Jim Guilford," said Hunnicott. Then, as footfalls coming stairward were heard in the upper corridor, he locked arms with Kent, faced him about and thrust him out over the door-stone. "Let's get out of this. You look as if you might kill somebody." XI THE LAST DITCH It was a mark of the later and larger development of David Kent that he was able to keep his head in the moment of catastrophes. In boyhood his hair had been a brick-dust red, and having the temperament which belongs of right to the auburn-hued, his first impulse was to face about and make a personal matter of the legal robbery with Judge MacFarlane. Happily for all concerned, Hunnicott's better counsels prevailed, and when the anger fit passed Kent found himself growing cool and determined. Hunnicott was crestfallen and disposed to be apologetic; but Kent did him justice. "Don't blame yourself: there was nothing else you could have done. Have you a stenographer in your office?" "Yes." "A good one?" "It's young Perkins: you know him." "He'll do. 'Phone him to run down to the station and get what telegrams there are for me, and we'll talk as we go." Once free of the Court House, Kent began a rapid-fire of questions. "Where is Judge MacFarlane stopping?" "At the Mid-Continent." "Have you any idea when he intends leaving town?" "No; but he will probably take the first train. He never stays here an hour longer than he has to after adjournment." "That would be the Flyer east at six o'clock. Is he going east?" "Come to think of it, I believe he is. Somebody said he was going to Hot Springs. He's in miserable health." Kent saw more possibilities, and worse, and quickened his pace a little. "I hope your young man won't let the grass grow under his feet," he said. "The minutes between now and six o'clock are worth days to us." "What do we do?" asked Hunnicott, willing to take a little lesson in practice as he ran.