"That's just about what I expected he'd do, and it's a straight bluff," he muttered. "All the same, she's not going back. And I've got to block it without getting Burton into trouble."
There was no time for anything but the simplest expedient. He jumped off again and ran back to the telegraph office.
"Say, Jim, that message to Miss Vennor is bulled. Ask Denver to repeat it to Beaver Brook, will you?" he said, interrupting the operator as he was repeating the train order.
The man of dots and dashes finished the order. "Can't do it, Fred; get me into hot water up to my neck. Think of something else."
"Will you help me if I do?"
"Sure; any way that won't cost me my job."
The conductor and engineer had signed the order, but Brockway begged for a respite. "Just a minute, Halsey, while I write a message," he said, snatching a pad of blanks and writing hastily, while the conductor waited.
"To Francis Vennor,
"Private Car 050, Denver."Can't you reconsider and leave Denver to-morrow morning, as previously arranged? Am quite sure Miss Vennor prefers to go on. Answer at Beaver Brook.
"Frederick Brockway."
He tossed the pad to the operator.
"There you are, Jim; don't break your neck to make a 'rush' of it; and when you hear the answer coming do what you can to make it limp a little—anything to change the sense a bit."