ivision, has to do with the employees, never with the customers, and his
professional manner is not likely to be distinguished by suavity. So he
unconsciously squared his shoulders when he said, "I'm Bannon, of MacBride
& Company."

The superintendent dismissed his stenographer, swept with his arm a clear
space on the desk, and then drummed on it with his fingers, but he did not
look up immediately. When he did, it was with an expression of grave
concern.

"Mr. Bannon," he said, "I'm mighty sorry. I'll do anything I can for you.
You can smoke ten cent cigars on me from now till Christmas, and light
them with passes. Anything--"

"If you feel like that," said Bannon, "we can fix things all comfortable
in three minutes. All I want is cars."

The superintendent shook his head. "There's where you stump me," he said.
"I haven't got 'em."

"Mr. Superintendent, that's what they told me in Chicago, and that's what
they told me at Ledyard. I didn't come up here to Blake City to be told
the same thing and then go back home."

"Well, I don't know what else I can tell you. That's just the size of it.
I hope we'll be able to fix you in a few days, but we can't promise
anything."

Bannon frowned, and after an expectant pause, the superintendent went on
talking vaguely about the immense rush of traffic. Finally he asked, "Why
do you think we'd hold you up if we had the cars?"

"That's what I came here to find out. I think you're mistaken about not
having them."

The superintendent laughed. "You can't expect to know more about that than
I do. You doubtless understand your business, but this is my business. If
you can tell me where the cars are, you can have them."

"Well, as you say, that's your business. But I can tell you. There's a big
string of empties--I counted fourteen--on the siding at Victory."

The superintendent looked out of the window and again drummed on the desk.
When he spoke again, his manner was more what one would expect from a
division superintendent. "You don't know anything about it. When we want
advice how to run our road we'll ask you for it. Victory isn't in my
division anyway."

"Then wire the general manager. He ought to know something about it."

"Wire him yourself, if you like. I can't bother about it. I'm sorry I
can't do anything, but I haven't got time."

"I haven't begun sending telegrams yet. And I haven't very much more time
to fool away. I'd like to have you find out if the Ledyard S