The “enemy” chief laughed.
“It’s already done. Your two men will rejoin you shortly. Sorry to have inconvenienced you, but we couldn’t well let them go back to you to carry the news of our bit of strategy. Here’s hoping you’ll have a pleasant wait for your court officer. So long.” And he walked back along the track, mounted his engine and was trundled away.
A short time after this visit of Grissby’s there was a warm little conference held in Mr. Ackerman’s office tent. Every member of the engineering staff, including Larry and Dick, was present, and the younger men, led by the first assistant, Goldrick, were unanimously and enthusiastically in favor of “rushing” the blockading train; overwhelming its crew by sheer force of numbers and ditching the train to get it out of the way.
“They are simply trading upon your well-known objections to the use of the strong arm, Chief,” was the way Goldrick put it. “There are only twenty-seven men, all told, on that blocking train, and we can put them out of business in just about as many seconds, if you’ll say the word. Those buckies on our track force are ripe for a scrap and they’ll go in with a laugh.”
“No,” the chief objected soberly. “As I’ve said many times before, we can’t afford to take the law into our own hands in a resort to violence. If we can outwit them in any way that won’t involve a hand-to-hand battle, we’ll do it. But I haven’t yet heard any of you suggest the means.”
It was at this point in the argument that Dick nudged Larry.
“Speak up and tell him!” he urged.
The ex-machine-shop apprentice turned red in the face, swallowed hard once or twice, and spoke in a sort of husky whisper that sounded to him like the loudest possible shout.
“You mean if we could get that train out of the way without a fight, it would—it would be all right, Mr. Ackerman?” he stammered.