ut she
was sufficiently like her father to be quickly resentful of coercive
measures. Wherefore, when she had cleared up the small mystery to her
own satisfaction, she hardened her heart and promised herself that
nothing short of a repetition of the peremptory order should make her
return on the forenoon train. And the shriek of the engine, whistling
for Beaver Brook, punctuated the resolve.

XIX

THE FOOLISH WIRES

When President Vennor returned to his stateroom in the private car after
the choleric little incident on the platform, he found his secretary
waiting with open note-book and a sheaf of well-sharpened pencils.
Quatremain's hands were a trifle unsteady when he began to write at the
President's dictation, but his employer did not observe it. As a matter
of fact, Mr. Francis Vennor was deep in the undercurrent of his private
thoughts--thoughts which were quite separate and apart from the unbroken
flow of words trickling out through Quatremain's pencil-point upon the
pages of the note-book. Mere business was very much a matter of habit
with the President, and the dictating of a few letters to be signed
"Francis Vennor, President," did not interfere with a coincident search
for some means of retrieving the morning's disaster.

It was a disaster, and no less. He began by calling it a mistake, but
mistakes which involve the possible loss of fortunes, small or great,
are not to be lightly spoken of. By the time he reached the end of the
fifth letter, he had run the gamut of expedients and concluded to try
the effect of a little wholesome parental authority.

"Go out and get me a Colorado Central time-card," he said to Quatremain;
and when the secretary returned with a copy of the official time-table,
Mr. Vennor traced out the schedule of the morning trains, east and west.
Number Fifty-one was not yet due at Golden, and a telegram to that
station would doubtless reach Gertrude.

"Take a message to Miss Gertrude, Harry," he began; but while he was
trying to formulate it in words which should be peremptory without being
incendiary, he thought better of it and went out to send it himself.
There was a querulous old gentleman in the telegraph office who was
making life burdensome for the operator, and it was with no little
difficulty that the President secured enough of the young man's time and
attention to serve his purpose.

"You are quite sure you can reach Golden before the train gets there,
are you?"