The twenty-four-mile ride was not long to Scattergood, for he occupied it by studying again every inch of his valley. He never tired of studying it. As the law book to the lawyer so the valley was to Scattergood—something never to be laid aside, something to be kept fresh in mind and never neglected. He never passed the length of it without seeing a new possibility.
Scattergood flagged the train. The four-hour ride to the city he occupied in talking to the conductor or brake-man or any member of the train's crew he could engage in conversation. He was asking them about their jobs, what they did, and why. He was asking question after question about railroads and railroading, in his quaint, characteristic manner. It was his intention to own a railroad, and he was at work finding out how the thing was done.
Next morning at seven he was on hand at the terminal offices of the G. and B. An hour later minor employees began to arrive.
"Young feller," he said, accosting a pleasant-faced boy, "where d'you calc'late I'll find Mr. Castle?"
"President Castle?" asked the boy.
"That's the feller," said Scattergood.
"About now he'll be eating grapefruit and poached egg," said the boy.
"Don't he work none durin' the day?"
The boy laughed good-humoredly. "He gets down about nine thirty, and when he don't go off somewheres he's mostly here till four—except between one and two, when he's at lunch."
"Gosh!" said Scattergood. "Must be wearin' him to the bone. 'Most five hours a day he sticks to it. Bear up under it perty well, young feller, does he? Keep his health and strength?"