“No, sir. I offered the charter to the Hon. Duffield Rogers, president of the Burdock, as was my duty, but he said you could beat any combination that might be formed in the long run.”
“Yes, or in the short run. Sensible man, Rogers. Well, sir, you do not expect an exorbitant price for a worthless charter?”
“I want no price at all. The charter is yours. But I’d like to offer you a hint as well as the charter, and the advice is to make Philip Manson manager of the Midland.”
“I see; and what for yourself?”
“Only bear me in mind when you have a vacancy for a well-paid official down east.”
The young man had been standing during this long colloquy, but now Mr. Rockervelt asked him to be seated, and there being a suggestion of command as well as of request in his tone, John Steele, drew up a chair to the table that divided them.
“You have quite definitely made up your mind, I take it, that T. Acton Blair is unfit for the position of general manager of the Manateau Midland,” said the chief with quiet irony.
“Yes, I have,” replied Steele, defiantly, “and so has everybody else who knows him.”
“And yet you admit the Midland is a well-managed road?”
“Certainly, but that is because of Philip Manson.”