“No, sir.  It was previous to that time.  The Chugach Railway and Development Company had chosen one of the finest harbors in Alaska for a terminus.  It was doubly protected from the long Pacific swell by the outer, precipitous shore of Prince William Sound.  But their greatest engineering problem met them there at the start.  It was necessary to cross a large glacier back of the bay.  There was no possible way to build around it; the only solution was a bore under the ice.  The building of such a tunnel meant labor and great expense.  And it was not a rich company; it was made up principally of small stockholders, young men, just out of college some of them, who had gone up there with plenty of enthusiasm and courage to invest in the enterprise, but very little money.  They did their own assessment work, dug like any coal miners with pick and shovel, cut and carried the timbers to brace their excavations under Mr. Foster’s instructions.  And when construction commenced on the railroad, they came down to do their stunt at packing over the glacier—­grading began from the upper side—­and sometimes they cut ties.”

“And meantime,” said the attorney brusquely, “Mr. Foster, who was responsible I believe, was trying to interest other capital to build the tunnel.”

“Yes.  And meantime, the Prince William syndicate started a parallel railroad to the interior from the next harbor to the southwestward.  It was difficult to interest large capital with competition so close.”  Tisdale paused; his glance moved from Mr. Bromley to the jury, his voice took its minor note.  “Stuart Foster did hold himself responsible to those young fellows.  He had known most of them personally in Seattle; they were a picked company for the venture.  He had youth and courage himself, in those days, but he knew Alaska—­he had been there before and made good.  He had their confidence.  He was that kind of man; one to inspire trust on sight, anywhere.”  Hollis paused another instant, while his eyes turned to Foster, and involuntarily, one after the other, the jury followed his look.  “It was then,” he added, “when other capital failed, the Chugach Company gave up their seaport and consolidated with the Prince William syndicate.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tisdale,” said the attorney for the prosecution.  “That is all.”

Miles Feversham had, as Frederic afterward expressed it, “caught his second wind.”  While he listened attentively to the testimony, he made some sweeping revisions in his notes for the argument which he was to open the following day.  He laughed at, while he congratulated himself, that the Government’s star witness, of whom he had been so afraid, should have proved so invaluable to the defense.  And when court adjourned, and the trio went down the steps to the street, he assured his brother-in-law there was a chance for him to escape, under Foster’s cloak.  To Marcia he said jocularly, though still in an undertone:  “’Snatched like a brand from the burning!’” And he added:  “My lady, had you consulted me, I should have suggested the April issue.  These magazines have a bad habit of arriving too soon.”