Hence, a little while after the sending of the Leckhard message, Callahan, the train despatcher, hearing an emphatic “Gee whiz!” from Dix’s’ corner, looked up from his train-sheet to say, “What hit you, brother?”

“Nothing,” said Dix shortly, but Callahan observed that he was hastily folding and pocketing the top sheet of the pad upon which he had been writing.  Dix went off duty at eleven, his second trick beginning at three in the afternoon.  It was between three and four when McCloskey, having strengthened his defenses in every way he could devise, rapped at the door of his chief’s sleeping-room.  Fifteen minutes later Lidgerwood joined the trainmaster in the private office.

“I couldn’t let you sleep any longer,” McCloskey began apologetically, “and I don’t know but you’ll give me what-for as it is.  Things are thickening up pretty fast.”

“Put me in touch,” was the command.

“All right.  I’ll begin at the front end.  Along about ten o’clock this morning Davidson, the manager of the Copperette, came down to see Mr. Brewster.  He gave the president a long song and dance about the tough trail and the poor accommodations for a pleasure-party up at the mine, and the upshot of it was that Mr. Brewster went out to the mine with him alone, leaving the party in the Nadia here.”

Lidgerwood said “Damn!” and let it go at that for the moment.  The thing was done, and it could not be undone.  McCloskey went on with his report, his hat tilted to the bridge of his nose.

“Taking it for granted that you mean to fight this thing to a cold finish, I’ve done everything I could think of.  Thanks to Williams and Bradford, and a few others like them, we can count on a good third of the trainmen; and I’ve got about the same proportion of the operators in line for us.  Taking advantage of the twenty-four-hour notice the strikers gave us, I’ve scattered these men of ours east and west on the day trains to the points where the trouble will hit us at twelve o’clock to-night.”

“Good!” said Lidgerwood briefly.  “How will you handle it?”

“It will handle itself, barring too many broken heads.  At midnight, in every important office where a striker throws down his pen and grounds his wire, one of our men will walk in and keep the ball rolling.  And on every train in transit at that time, manned by men we’re not sure of, there will be a relief crew of some sort, deadheading over the road and ready to fall in line and keep it coming when the other fellows fall out.”

Again the superintendent nodded his approval.  The trainmaster was showing himself at his loyal best.

“That brings us down to Angels and the present, Mac.  How do we stand here?”

“That’s what I’d give all my old shoes to know,” said McCloskey, his homely face emphasizing his perplexity.  “They say the shopmen are against us, and if that’s so we’re outnumbered here, six to one.  I can’t find out anything for certain.  Gridley is still away, and Dawson hasn’t got back, and nobody else knows anything about the shop force.”