The Honorable Milton Waring got up and began to pace the room. It was evident that there were certain aspects of the deal which disturbed him.
"If my connection with this thing ever got out, Blatch," he said, pausing in front of the lawyer, "it would mean—the finish!"
"Oh, hang the political end of it, Milt!" exclaimed Ferguson impatiently. "Between us, J. C. and I will see that you are protected legally. And anyway, what's the use of being in politics if you don't get a share of the loaves and fishes while you've got the chance? All politicians are supposed by the public to be feathering their own nests, and you might as well feather yours when you've got to come under the accusation anyway. It's all in the game. If you've got the sponduliks you can do anything these days. It's every man for himself and the devil take the hindmost!"
"There's a lot of truth in what you say, Blatch. Well, let's get down to business and get it over with," sighed the Honorable Milton Waring.
Abruptly he sat down at his desk and reached for the papers.
CHAPTER XXVI
NIP AND TUCK
Engine No. 810 was running free through the night with a big string of box-cars and gondolas tossing along behind her, dim shadows in the dark. Her powerful electric headlight threw a beam, long and bright, that burrowed into the black void far in front. But for this and the few red-glowing chinks in her firebox and the thunder of the wheels, the freight might have been some phantom reptile rushing through the land with two red eyes in its tail.
Evans, the fireman, kicked impatiently at the slash-bar and hooked the fire. The lurid glare from the white fires that curled and writhed under the crown-sheet flung wide upon flying right-of-way and the woods on either side, and played with the swirling ribbon of steam that was hissing back from the dome. Bathed in the blinding light, the fireman stood for a space, swinging his scoop with pendulum precision from fire-box to coal-tank and back again; then the whole scene went out suddenly.
Engineer Macdonald, leaning out over his armrest, chafed at the delay as he choked her head for the Spruce Valley grade. The line was clear as far as Indian Creek; but up there somewhere they would have to take the siding for the first section of the Limited, eastbound.