"Banking is hardly a sociable business," said Wheaton.
"No; a good banker's got to have cold feet, as the fellow said."
"But you railroad people are not considered so very warm," said Wheaton. "The fellows who want favors seem to think so. By the way, I'm much obliged to some one for an annual that turned up in my mail the other day. I don't know who sent it to me,—if it's you—"
"Um?" Margrave affected to have been wandering in his thoughts, but this was what he was waiting for. "Oh, I guess that was Wilson. I never fool with the pass business myself; I've got troubles of my own."
"I guess I'll not use it very often," said Wheaton, as if he owed an apology to the road for accepting it.
"Better come out with me in the car sometime and see the road," Margrave suggested, throwing his newspaper on the table.
"I'd like that very much," said Wheaton.
"Where's Thompson now? Old man's pretty well done up, ain't he?"
"He went back to Arizona. He was here at work all summer. He's afraid of our winters."
"Well, that gives you your chance," said Margrave, affably. "There ain't any young man in town that's got a better chance than you have, Jim."