adquarters in the Colorado capital, when a
fair-haired young man in London-cut clothes, and with a tourist's quota
of hand-luggage, crossed the Denver Union Station platform from the
Pullman of a belated Chicago train.

Ascertaining from a gateman that the Plug Mountain day train had long
since gone on its way up the canyon, the young man left his many
belongings at the check-stand and had himself driven up-town to the
Guaranty Building. It was Eckstein who took his card in Mr. North's
outer office. The private secretary was dictating to a stenographer, and
was impatient of the interruption. But the name on the card wrought a
miracle.

"Mr. North? Why, surely, Mr. Adair. He is always at liberty for you.
Right through this way"--holding the gate in the counter railing at its
widest--"we're mighty glad to see you in Denver, always."

Adair had acquired the monocle habit on his latest run across the
Atlantic, and to keep in practice he gave the secretary the coldest of
stares through the disconcerting glass. "Really! I'm quite delighted.
Who is the other member of the 'we,' Mr.--er--er--"

"Eckstein," prompted the secretary; but he said no more, being prudently
anxious to be quit of the transfixing stare before a worse thing should
befall.

In the inner room the vice-president was less effusive, but no less
cordial. It was a rare thing to see one of the company's directors in
the Denver business offices. Mr. North was of the opinion that it would
be a good investment of time and effort for all concerned if the members
of the board used their privilege oftener. So on through half a dozen
polite time-killers to the reluctant query: What could the general
manager do for Mr. Adair?

Given leave to speak, Adair stated his needs succinctly. He wanted a
special train to Saint's Rest; he wanted it suddenly, and he asked that
it be given the right of the road.

"My dear sir!" protested the vice-president, "you mustn't ask
impossibilities! You shall have the train at once, of course: you shall
have my private car. But when it comes to the right of way, you'll have
to appeal to Mr. Ford. Why, he doesn't scruple to lay out the United
States mails for his material trains!"

"Um," said Adair. "Where can I reach Ford?"

Mr. North did not equivocate; he never lied when the truth would answer
the purpose equally well.

"He is out on the extension; or more correctly speaking, somewhere
beyond the present end of the construction