“Can't help it if the whole road's blocked. Get him as quick as you can and call us up. Good-by.”
Harvey waited ten minutes, twenty, thirty, thirty-five—then the bell rang.
“Hello!”
“Yes.”
“Not there?”
“Wait a minute. You say he took the 4.30?”
“All right. Good-by.”
Harvey turned back to his desk with a scowl. He passed the next hour clearing up what was left of the day's work; then he went out to dinner, and at 6.45 met Jim Weeks at the Northern Station.
“Hello,” said the magnate, “what's up?”
“Porter is,” replied Harvey. “I cornered him and McNally with Thompson and Wing, and I think McNally's gone after the Tillman stock.”