t the mine?" The operator paused, looking up at
Hartwell.

Hartwell could not restrain his impatience.

"I'm Mr. Hartwell, general manager of the Rainbow Company. Will you
attend to your business and leave my affairs alone?"

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hartwell. My name is Jake Studley, agent for
R. G. S. I get fifty dollars a month, and don't give a damn for no one."
He began clearing the papers from before his instrument and drumming out
his call.

The call was answered and the message sent. The operator picked up the
paper and thrust it on a file.

Hartwell's face showed conflicting emotions. He wanted to force the
exasperating man to action; but his own case was urgent. He drew from
his pocket a roll of bills. Selecting a ten-dollar note, he pushed it
toward the operator, who was refilling his pipe.

"I want that message to get to Haskins immediately, and I want an
answer."

The operator shoved the bill into his pocket with one hand, with the
other he began another call. There was a pause, then a series of clicks
which were cut off and another message sent. The man closed his
instrument and winked knowingly at Hartwell.

"I squirted a little electricity down the line on my own account. Told
them the G. M. was in and ordered that message humped. 'Tain't up to me
to explain what G. M. is here."

Hartwell went out on the platform and paced restlessly up and down. In
about an hour he again approached the window.

"How long before I can expect an answer?"

"I can't tell. It depends on their finding your man. They'll get a
wiggle on 'em, all right. I'll stir them up again before long.
Jehosaphat! There's my call now!" He hurriedly answered, then read, word
by word, the message as it was clicked off.

Arthur Hartwell, Rainbow, Colorado.

Message received. Too late. Men left on special last night.

John Haskins.

Hartwell caught up another blank.

John Haskins, Leadville, Colorado.

Recall the men without fail. I'll make it worth your while.

Arthur Hartwell.

There was another weary wait. Finally the operator came from his office.

"Sorry, Mr. Hartwell, but Leadville says Haskins left on train after
sending first despatch. Says he had a ticket for Salt Lake."

"When will that special be here?" Hartwell's voice was husky in spite of
himself.

"Ought to be here about six. It's three now."

"Is there no way to stop it?"

"Not now. Haskins chartered it. He's the only