The Short Line War | Page 9

of fabrics; he discussed and suggested, all with a critical air that amused Miss Porter. She tried at first to take him seriously, but finally gave up, leaned against the counter and laughed.
"Suppose we go up to the waiting room," she said. "You can talk, anyway."
With a smile Harvey assented, and they seated themselves near the railing, where they could look down on the human kaleidoscope below.
"By the way," said Harvey, after they had chatted for some time, "this morning's Tribune has a good joke on one of your Truesdale neighbors. Did you see it?"
"No. Tell me about it."
"Why, it seems that he--it was Judge Black--is up at Waupaca. He went there in a hurry from Lake Geneva to get away from some cases that were following him and spoiling the vacation he's been trying to get since July. He moved so quickly that his trunk left him and went up to Minnesota or somewhere. Well, the Judge was asked to speak at an entertainment the first night at the hotel. An hour or so before the time set for the speech he fell into the lake and ruined his only suit of clothes. There wasn't a man there anywhere near his size, so he appeared before the guests of the Grand View Hotel in the 'bus man's overalls."
Katherine laughed heartily.
"Father will enjoy that," she said. "He loves to laugh at Judge Black." And she added, "I wonder where father is."
"Do you return to Truesdale to-day?" Harvey asked.
"No. Not until day after to-morrow. We go to the South Side to dinner, father and I. Father told me to meet him here at half-past three."
Harvey drew out his watch.
"It is after four now."
"Yes, I'm a little worried. Father is usually very prompt. He had to see some men about the railroad, but he said it wouldn't take him long. I'm afraid something has happened."
So was Harvey. The mention of Mr. Porter brought back to him certain peculiar facts, and for a moment he thought fast. Evidently something was happening. In case there was a chance of Tillman City wavering, Jim Weeks should know of Porter's activity and at once. Harvey rose abruptly.
"Excuse me. I find I have forgotten some work at the office."
"Must you go? I am sorry." She rose and extended her hand. "I shan't be at home either night or I'd ask you to come and see me. But you are coming down to Truesdale soon, remember."
"Yes," said Harvey. "Good-by."
He walked rapidly to the Washington Building. Jim had left no word, and Harvey called up the Ashland Avenue residence, but could learn nothing. The Northern Station master returned a similar report: Mr. Weeks had not been seen. Harvey sat down and rested his elbows on the desk. Already it might be too late. He called to mind Jim's business arrangements, in the hope of striking a clew by chance. He was interrupted by a few callers, whom he disposed of with a rush; and he was closing his desk with a vague idea of hunting Jim in person when he was called to the 'phone. It was the station master.
"I was mistaken, Mr. West," he said. "Fourteen has just got in from Manchester, and he says he took Mr. Weeks out at noon."
Harvey rang off and called up the M. & T. terminal station at Manchester.
"Hello. This is Chicago. Is Mr. Weeks there?"
"Well--say, hello! Hold on, central!--Will you call him to the 'phone, please?"
"Why not?"
"Where? At the shops?"
"Sorry, but I guess you'll have to interrupt him. Important business."
"Can't help it if the whole road's blocked. Get him as quick as you can and call us up. Good-by."
Harvey waited ten minutes, twenty, thirty, thirty-five--then the bell rang.
"Hello!"
"Yes."
"Not there?"
"Wait a minute. You say he took the 4.30?"
"All right. Good-by."
Harvey turned back to his desk with a scowl. He passed the next hour clearing up what was left of the day's work; then he went out to dinner, and at 6.45 met Jim Weeks at the Northern Station.
"Hello," said the magnate, "what's up?"
"Porter is," replied Harvey. "I cornered him and McNally with Thompson and Wing, and I think McNally's gone after the Tillman stock."
"I guess not," Jim smiled indulgently. "They can't touch it. Tell me what you know."
Harvey related his experience, and as one detail followed another Jim's eyebrows came together. He took out his watch and looked at it, then his eye swept the broad row of trains in the gloomy, barnlike station. The hands on the three-sided clock pointed to seven, and the Northern Vestibule Limited began to roll out on its run to Manchester and the West. Suddenly Jim broke in:--
"I'm going to Tillman. Back to-morrow."
He ran down the platform and swung himself, puffing, upon the rear steps of the receding train. Harvey stared a moment, then slowly walked