"Judgment, poor judgment!" sniffed Popham. "Look at Gilhooly, and then talk about poor judgment, if you can."
In truth, the railway magnate presented a sorry spectacle. His clothing was in wild disorder, his hair was rumpled about his head, and he was hopping back and forth with two fingers in the air.
He was under the impression that he was dealing in railroad stocks, completing the huge transaction that had made him the talk of two continents.
"This professor ought to be flayed alive," declared Markham. "Where are we going, and when will we get there?"
"Now," said I. "you are striking the keynote. Who knows where we are going if the professor doesn't? And who knows when we shall arrive there if it is out of his power to tell? We need the professor, for if we are to be saved it will be his knowledge that does it."
"But what will my family think?" whimpered Meigs. "And my business interests!"
He threw up his hands and fell back in his seat with a groan. Then abruptly he straightened up again.
"This is a dream! By gad, it must be! The whole affair is too outrageously unreal for any sane man to believe."
Gilhooly gave a maudlin chuckle.
"I was dead sure I'd get that last block of X.Y.&Z. stock! That road is the last span in my network of ties and rails. Ha! Now we'll see! Now!"