nvited Ed to hitch his car on and come along
with them for a little trip, and talk over mining and investments, and
so on, and what the outlook was in the Southwest. So Ed went with 'em
and continued to hear talk of his accident. Ben would bring it up and
harp back to it, and bring it forward and sandwich it in whenever the
conversation had an open moment. It was either the wild thoughts Ed must
of had sliding down the canon, or the preposterous constitution he had
been endowed with, or the greenness of himself for not recognizing it as
the prize accident of the ages. And I don't wonder Ben went on that way
for the next two days. He knew what a tenacious idiot Ed was, and that he
had come miles out of his way to try something he had often tried before.
The most he could hope for was to stave off the collision till his
officials got away.

And it looked, the second night, like he wasn't going to be able to do
even this much. He'd been detecting cold looks from Ed all day, in spite
of his putting on another record about the accident every ten minutes or
so. They was laid out at some little station, and just before dinner Ed
give Ben the office that he wanted a word private with him. Ben thinks to
himself it's coming now in spite of all his efforts to smooth it over.
But he leaves the car with Ed and they walk a piece up the track, Ben
hoping they can make the lee of a freight car before Ed starts his crime
of violence. He makes up his mind quick. If Ed jumps him there in the
open he will certainly do his best to win the contest. But if he waits
till they get this freight car between them and the public, then he will
let Ed win the fight and get the scandal out of his life forever.

Ben walks quite briskly, but Ed begins to slow up when they ain't more
than a hundred yards from the president's car. Finally Ed stops short.

"The little foci is going to pull the fight here in the open!" thinks
Ben; so he gets ready to do his best.

Then Ed says:

"Say, Ben, what's the matter with you, anyway? Are you losing your mind?
It ain't so much on my account; I could make allowance for you. But
here's these officials of yours, and you want to make a good impression
on 'em; instead of which you are making yourself the grandest bore that
ever needed strangling for continuous talk on one subject."

Ben didn't get him yet. He says come on up the other side of them freight
cars, where they can be more private for their consultation.