Reaching home, he found a call from the western plant, at Chicago. He phoned the superintendent with a foreboding that all was not well.
"This you, Perk?" sounded the voice on the wire.
"Yes, what's up?"
"I had not intended bothering you with this, but in the light of all that has happened I guess you had better know that one of our engineers went stark mad out here about three weeks ago. He was a very brainy man but his reason snapped. He first appeared queer when he began talking of anarchy and cursing capitalists. Then one afternoon he struck a shop foreman down with a heavy wrench and rushed out of the plant. We have not seen him since. The police have been looking for him, but he is still at large."
"That explains a lot of things," said "Old Perk." "Tell the police to keep after him. We'll look for him here. File me a complete detailed report of the incident by telegraph," he instructed. Then he asked:
"How is the foreman? Badly hurt?"
"He dodged; it was a glancing blow. The foreman was back to work in a week. But he is nervous and has armed himself. We have put on extra guards."
"Good," commended Ferguson. "Don't hesitate to spend tolls to keep me advised of any developments."
An hour and a half later, Ferguson phoned the chief clerk in his offices:
"Go into my private office," he ordered, "and see if there is a package on my desk. It is a bank package."