at law. Kirkwood was an absurd person. It
was politely suggested that it would be much to his advantage to allow
the Sycamore Company to take its course through the courts, under a
receiver friendly to the stockholders of the Sanford Construction
Company. Kirkwood was informed that things had always been done that
way; but, having no political ambitions or ties, he was little
impressed. It seemed to the business politicians weakminded for a man
who had "pull" enough to secure employment from one of the most powerful
trust companies on the continent to refuse to listen to "reason." It was
almost incredible that he should be trying to save the road instead of
wrecking it, when there was no money to be made out of saving a trolley
line that had been marked for destruction from the day its first tie was
laid. Kirkwood smiled coldly upon them and their attorneys when they
passed from persuasions to threats. It was difficult to find an
effective club to use on a man who was so unreasonable as to threaten
them with the long arm of the grand jury. The most minute scrutiny of
Kirkwood's private life failed to disclose anything that might be used
to frighten him.

It had seemed to Kirkwood that the beneficiaries of the construction
company should pay into the Sycamore treasury enough money to repair the
losses occasioned by dishonest work. Interest on the Sycamore bonds was
due the 1st of April. The November payment had been made with money
advanced by half a dozen country banks through negotiations conducted by
William Holton. On the day that Jack Holton was persuading Alec Waterman
to thrust himself forward as the people's protagonist, Kirkwood was
tightening the screws on the construction company. If the sum he
demanded was not paid by the 1st of April, he assured Samuel Holton's
former allies that criminal proceedings would be instituted. As one of
the construction crowd was just then much in the newspapers as a
probable nominee for a state office, Kirkwood's determination to force a
settlement on his own terms was dismaying. The bi-partisan bosses had
figured altogether too much in the newspapers, and it was not pleasant
to contemplate the opening of the books of the company to public gaze.

March prepared to go out like a lion in Montgomery that year. While Alec
Waterman was pondering his duty to the public as brought to his
attention by Jack Holton, Fate seemed to take charge of his affairs. On
March 28 the whistle of th