Historical fiction; Railroads -- History -- Fiction
Day followed day with no variation save that Bridge found the delay
more and more nearly unbearable, and the week had dragged to an end and
another begun before anything happened. On Sunday afternoon he started
out for a walk, but he had not gone far when he met Blaney. To his
surprise, the contractor looked as though the past week had been as hard
for him as it had been for Bridge. His face looked thin and his eyes
sunken and there were bristling uneven patches of sandy beard on his
face. When he came up to Bridge he stopped.
“I suppose you've been looking for me,” he said. “I've been staying
right at home taking care of my kid; she's had the scarlet fever.”
“Louise?” asked Bridge, with real concern. “I hope she's better.”
“I guess she'll pull through all right now,” answered Blaney, “but she's
been pretty sick, and it's kept me busy night and day. You see my wife
can't do much at nursing. But I tell you scarlet fever is no joke.”
“I never had it,” was the answer, “but I'm glad it's come out all right.
By the way,” he went on, as Blaney started to walk away, “when will you
be able to talk over that business with me?”
“Why, now as well as at any time, I suppose,” said Blaney, after a
moment's hesitation.
The contractor had an office near by, and at his suggestion they went
there for their conference.
“How many men can you count?” he asked when they were seated.
Now that the period of forced inaction was over, and there was something
important to do, Bridge forgot that his head was burning and his
throat dry, and for the first time in three days he was able to think
consecutively. For half an hour they figured their united strength and
talked over the individual members of the Council. But at last Bridge
said:--
“Before we go any further, I want to know more about this business. I've
taken your word so far that we would be backed up all right, and I hope
we are. But I can't afford to be beaten, and if Weeks isn't clean busted
up, he'll hound me to death. I've got to know more about this business.”
Blaney looked out of the window. “Seems to me you're pretty late with
that talk about not going in,” he said.
“I know I've committed myself to some extent without knowing just what
I was getting into,” answered Bridge, “but I won't go any farther till
some things are cleared up.”
“What do you want to know?” asked Blaney.
“I want to know what you're going to do. Voting that stock against Weeks
won't do any good. We can't get him out all by ourselves.”
“We aren't all by ourselves. C. & S.C. are with us.”
“That's what I'm trying to get at. To what extent are they with us?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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