At this message, repeated to him by the operator, word for word, Carhart stood thoughtful. Then, “Shut off the despatcher. Wait--tell him Mr. Carhart is much obliged. Shut him off. Now call Paradise. Say to him--can’t you get him?” “Yes--all right now.” “Say--‘When did the supply train pass you on Tuesday?’--got that?” “Yes--one minute. ‘When--did supply--train pass--you--Tuesday?’” “Now what does he say?” “‘Supply--train’--he says--‘passed--here Wednesday--two--P.M.--west-bound.’ There, you see, it didn’t leave on Tuesday at all. It’s only a few hours to Paradise from Sherman.” Carhart had Peet’s message still crumpled in his pocket. He straightened it out and read it again. “All right,” he said to the operator, “that will do.” And as he walked slowly and thoughtfully out into the blazing sunlight he added to himself: “So, Mr. Peet, that’s the sort you are, is it? I think we begin to understand each other.” “Paul!” It was the gruff voice of Old Vandervelt, low and charged with anger. “Yes--what?” “What is it you mean to do with these laborers?” “Build the line.” “Well, I’ve done what I could. They’ve walked out again.” “Another ten per cent?” “Another ten per cent.” “Let’s see--we’ve raised them twenty per cent since yesterday morning, haven’t we?” “You have--yes.” “And that ought to be about enough, don’t you think?” “If you want my opinion,--yes.” “Now look here, Van. You go back and bring them all up here by the train. Tell them Mr. Carhart wants to talk to them.” Vandervelt stared at his chief in downright bewilderment. Then he turned to obey the order; and as he walked away Carhart caught the muttered words, “Organize a debating society, eh? Well, that’s the one fool thing left to do!” But the men did not take it in just this way; in fact, they did not know how to take it. They hesitated, and looked about for counsel. Even Dimond was disturbed. The boss had a quiet, highly effective way of saying and doing precisely what he meant to say and do. Dimond was not certain of his own ability to stand directly between the men and Paul Carhart. There was something about the cool way in which they were ordered before him that was--well, businesslike. He turned and glanced at Flagg. The cook scowled and motioned him forward, and so the dirty, thirsty regiment moved uncertainly back toward the train, and formed a wide semicircle before the boss. Carhart had taken his position by a pile of odds and ends of lumber that lay beside the track. He awaited them quietly, the only man among the hundreds there who appeared unconscious of the excitement in the air. The elder Vandervelt stood apart, scowling at the performance. The younger scented danger, and, climbing up on the train, walked back over the empty flat-cars to a position directly behind his chief. There he sat down, his legs swinging over the side of the car.