Edward E. Allison waited just long enough to vote his majority stock, and left the meeting in a hurry, for he had an engagement to take tea with Gail Sargent.
He allowed himself four hours for sleep that night, and the next afternoon headed for Denver. On the way he studied maps again, but the one to which he paid most attention was a new one drawn by himself, on which the various ranges of the Rocky Mountains were represented by scrawled, lead-pencilled spirals. Right where his thin line crossed these spirals at a converging point, was Yando Chasm, a pass created by nature, which was the proud possession of the Inland Pacific, now the most prosperous and direct of all the Pacific systems; and the Inland, with an insolent pride in the natural fortune which had been found for it by the cleverest of all engineers, guarded its precious right of way as no jewel was ever protected. Just east of Yando Chasm there crossed a little “one-horse” railroad, which, starting at the important city of Silverknob, served some good mining towns below the Inland’s line, and on the north side curved up and around through the mountains, rambling wherever there was freight or passengers to be carried, and ending on the other side of the range at Nugget City, only twenty miles north of the Inland’s main line, and a hundred miles west, into the fair country which sloped down to the Pacific. This road, which had its headquarters in Denver, was called the Silverknob and Nugget City; and into its meeting walked Allison, with control.
His course here was different from that in Jersey City. He ousted every director on the board, and elected men of his own. Immediately after, in the directors’ meeting, he elected himself president, and, kindly consenting to talk with the reporters of the Denver newspapers, hurried back to Chicago, where he drove directly to the head offices of the Inland Pacific.
“I’ve just secured control of the Silverknob and Nugget City,” he informed the general manager of the Inland.
“So I noticed,” returned Wilcox, who was a young man of fifty and wore picturesque velvet hats. “The papers here made quite a sensation of your going into railroading.”
“They’re welcome,” grinned Allison. “Say Wilcox, if you’ll build a branch from Pines to Nugget City, we’ll give you our Nugget City freight where we cross, at Copperville, east of the range.”
Wilcox headed for his map.
“What’s the distance?” he inquired.
“Twenty-two miles; fairly level grade, and one bridge.”
“Couldn’t think of it,” decided Wilcox, looking at the map. “We’d like to have your freight, for there’s a lot of traffic between Silverknob and Nugget City, but it’s not our territory. The smelters are at Silverknob, and they ship east over the White Range Line. Anyway, why do you want to take away the haulage from your northern branch?”