“I shall tell her that you say so,” said the obsequious Mr. Talbot.

“Toll, my boy, I’ve got an idea.”

“Cherish it, General; you may never have another.”

“Good for you.  I owe you one.”

“Not at all, General.  I’m only paying off old debts.”

“Toll, how are you doing now?  Getting a living?”

“Thanks to you, General, I am thriving in a modest way.  I don’t aspire to any such profits as you seem to win so easily, so I have no fault to find.”

“The General has been a godsend to you, hasn’t he, eh?  Happy day when you made his acquaintance, eh?  Well, go ahead; it’s all right.  Pile it up while you can.”

“But you haven’t told me about your idea,” Mr. Talbot suggested.

“Well, Toll, I’m pining for a railroad.  I’m crying nights for a railroad.  A fellow must have amusements you know.  Health must be taken care of, eh?  All the fellows have railroads.  It’s well enough to keep horses and go to the theater.  A steamship line isn’t bad, but the trouble is, a man can’t be captain of his own vessels.  No, Toll; I need a railroad.  I’m yearning for engines, and double tracks, and running over my own line.”

“You might buy up a European kingdom or two, at a pinch, General.”

“Yes; but, Toll, you don’t know what terminal facilities I’ve got for a railroad.”

“Your pocket will answer for one end,” said Talbot, laughing.

“Right, the first time,” responded the General, “and glory will answer for the other.  Toll, do you know what I see at the other end?”

“No.”

“I see a man of about the size of Robert Belcher in the chair of an Alderman.  I see him seated on a horse, riding down Broadway at the head of a regiment.  I see him Mayor of the City of New York.  I see him Governor of the State.  I see him President of the United States.  I see no reason why he cannot hold any one, or all these offices.  All doors yield to a golden key.  Toll, I haven’t got to go as far as I have come, to reach the top.  Do you know it?  Big thing!  Yes, Toll, I must have a railroad.”

“Have you selected the toy you propose to purchase?” inquired Talbot.

“Well, I’ve looked about some; but the trouble is, that all the best of ’em are in hands that can hold them.  I must buy a poor one and build it up, or make it build me up.”

“That’s a pity.”

“I don’t know about that.  The big ones are hard to handle, and I’m not quite big enough for them yet.  What do you say to the Crooked Valley?”

“Poor road, and wants connections.”

“Those are exactly the points.  I can buy it for a song, issue bonds, and build the connections—­issue plenty of bonds, and build plenty of connections.  Terminal facilities large—? do you understand?  Eh, Toll?”

Mr. Talbot laughed.

“I don’t think you need any suggestions from me,” he said.

“No; the General can manage this thing without help.  He only wanted to open your eyes a little, and get you ready for your day’s work.  You fellows who fiddle around with a few goods need waking up occasionally.  Now, Toll, go off and let the General get up.  I must have a railroad before night, or I shall not be able to sleep a wink.  By-by!”