But Kent was following out his own line of thought and putting it in words as it came.

“Think of the brain-work it took to bring all these things into line.  There was no hitch, no slip, and nothing was overlooked.  They picked their time, and it was a moment when we were absolutely helpless.  I had filed our charter, but our local organization was still incomplete.  They had their judge and the needful case in his court, pending and ready for use at the precise moment.  They had Hawk on the ground, armed and equipped; and they knew that unless a miracle intervened they would have nobody but an unprepared local attorney to obstruct them.”

“Is that all?” she asked.

“No.  The finest bit of sculpture is on the capstone of the pyramid.  Since we have had no hearing on the merits, Guilford is only a temporary receiver, subject to discharge if the allegations in Hawk’s amended petition are not sustained.  After the major has sufficiently smashed the stock, Judge MacFarlane will come back, the hearing on the merits will be given, we shall doubtless make our point, and the road will revert to the stock-holders.  But by that time enough of the stock will have changed hands on the ‘wreck’ price to put the Plantagould people safely in the saddle, and the freeze-out will be a fact accomplished.”

Miss Van Brock drew a long breath that was more than half a sigh.

“You spoke the simple truth, David, when you said that his Excellency is a great man.  It seems utterly hopeless now that we have cleared up all the little mysteries.”

Kent rose to take his leave.

“No; that is where they all go out and I stay in,” he said cheerfully.  “The shrewder he is, the more credit there will be in making him let go.  And you mark my words:  I am going to make him let go.  Good night.”

She had gone with him to the door; was in the act of closing it behind him, when he turned back for a belated question.

“By the way, what did you tell Mrs. Brentwood to do?”

“I told her not to do anything until she had consulted you and Mr. Loring and Brookes Ormsby.  Was that right?”

“Quite right.  If it comes up again, rub it in some more.  We’ll save her alive yet, if she will let us.  Did you say I might come to dinner to-morrow evening?  Thank you:  you grow sweeter and more truly compassionate day by day.  Good night again.”

XV

THE JUNKETERS

When Receiver Guilford took possession of the properties, appurtenances and appendages of the sequestered Trans-Western Railway, one of the luxuries to which he fell heir was private car “Naught-seven,” a commodious hotel on wheels originally used as the directors’ car of the Western Pacific, and later taken over by Loring to be put in commission as the general manager’s special.

In the hands of a friendly receiver this car became a boon to the capitol contingent; its observation platform served as a shifting rostrum from which a deep-chested executive or a mellifluous Hawk often addressed admiring crowds at way stations, and its dining saloon was the moving scene of many little relaxative feasts, at which Veuve Cliquot flowed freely, priceless cigars were burned, and the members of the organization unbent, each after his kind.