h fatheh in command at Gordonia," he beamed, shaking Tom's
hand effusively. "I hope you'll have us all made millionaihs when we get
back home again; I do, for a fact, suh."

Tom smiled and shook his head.

"It looks pretty black, just now, Major. I'm afraid we're in for rough
weather."

"Oh, no; not that, son; a meah passing cloud." And then, with the big
Dabney laugh: "You youngstehs oughtn't to leave it for us old fellows to
keep up the stock of optimism, suh. A word in youh ear, young man: if
these heah damned Yankee rascals would quit thei-uh monkeying right heah
in Wall Street, the country would take on a new lease of life, suh; it
would for a fact," and he said it loudly enough to be heard in the
corridor.

During this bit of side play the attorney was laboring with the two
Farleys, and Tom, watching narrowly, saw that there was a hitch of some
kind.

"What is it?" he demanded, turning shortly on the trio at the table.

The lawyer explained. Mr. Farley thought the plan proposed was entirely
too far-reaching in its effects, or possible effects. He was willing to
delegate his authority as president of the company to Caleb Gordon in
writing. Would not that answer all the requirements?

Tom asked his attorney with his eyes if it would answer, and read the
negative reply very clearly. So he shook his head.

"No," he said, turning his back on the Major and lowering his voice. "We
must have your proxy, Mr. Farley."

"And if I don't choose to accede to your demands?"

"I don't think we need to go over that ground again," said Tom coolly.
"If you don't sign that paper, you'll miss your steamer."

The president glanced toward the open door, as if he half expected to
see an officer waiting for him. Then he said, "Oh, well; it's as broad
as it is long," and signed.

The leave-takings were brief, and somewhat constrained, save those of
the genial Major. Tom pleaded business, further business, with his
attorney, when the Major would have had him wait to tell the ladies
good-by; hence he saw no more of the tourists after the conference broke
up.

Not to lose time, Tom took a noon train back to Boston, first wiring his
father to try and keep things in _statu quo_ at Gordonia for another
week at all hazards. Winning back to the technical school, he plunged
once more into the examination whirlpool, doing his best to forget
Chiawassee Consolidated and its mortal sickness for the time being, and
succeeding so well th