g. Call him in and set
him at it."

"But, man! Don't you want the figures first?"

"My dear Dick! I've had those figures for two years, and there's nothing
very complicated about that part of our problem. Call your man in and
let him attack the thing itself."

"Everything goes: you may consider him recalled. But broadening the Plug
Mountain to standard gauge doesn't put us into Copah this summer, does
it?"

"No; our necessities will do that for us. See here; let me show you."
Ford took out his note-book and on a blank page of it outlined a rough
map, talking as he sketched. "Three weeks ago you wired me that the
Transcontinental people were massing building material at the terminus
of their Saguache branch."

"So I did," said Frisbie.

"And the day before yesterday you wired again to say that it was
apparently a false alarm. What made you change your mind?"

"They are hauling the stuff away--over to their Green Butte line, I'm
told."

"Why are they hauling it away?"

"The bluff--their bluff--was called. We had got busy on Plug Pass, and
they saw there was no hope of cutting in ahead of us at that point."

"Exactly. Now look at this map for a minute. Here is Saint's Rest; here
is the Copah district; and here is Green Butte, the junction of their
narrow gauge with the standard-gauge Salt Lake and Eastern. If you were
on the Transcontinental executive committee and saw an active competing
line about to build a standard-gauge railroad through the Copah district
and on to a connection with your narrow gauge's outlet at Green Butte,
what would you advise?"

Frisbie nodded. "It's easy, when you know how, isn't it They'll
standardize their narrow gauge to Green Butte, make an iron-clad traffic
contract with the S. L & E. to exclude us, and build a branch from
Jack's Canyon, say, up into the Copah country." And then in loyal
admiration: "That's what I call the sure word of prophecy--your
specialty, Stuart. How many nights' sleep did you lose figuring that
out?"

"Not any, as it happens," laughed Ford. "It was a straight tip out of
the East. The plan, just about as you've outlined it, was adopted by the
Transcontinental powers that be, sitting in New York last week. By some
means unknown to me, Mr. Adair got wind of it, and made a flying trip to
Chicago to put me on--wouldn't even trust the wire with it. Now you
understand why we've got to wake the Copah echoes with a locomotive
whistle this season."

"Copah--y