“It hasn’t been pulled off yet,” was the quick reply.  “We are holding old David in a noose that may turn into a rope of sand at any minute; don’t forget that.  During the few days intervening before the election we must preserve the present status at any cost.  Young Blount is the only man who may possibly disturb it.  Keep him out of the way.  If he doesn’t have speaking invitations enough to busy him, see to it that he gets them.  As long as you can keep him talking he won’t have any time for side issues.  Now about this Gryson business:  you want to handle that yourselves, and I don’t want any more telegrams like the one you sent me last night, Gantry.  What’s the condition?”

Gantry outlined the Gryson “condition” briefly.  The man Gryson, who had developed into a heeler of sorts, had been growing restive, wanting more money.

“What can he swing?” was the curt question.

“Six out of seven pretty close counties.  I don’t pretend to know how he has done it, but he has got the goods; I’ve taken the trouble to check up on him.  With his pull, we can swing the vote of the capital itself.”

The vice-president frowned thoughtfully.  “The old game of stuffing the registration lists, I suppose,” he said.  And then:  “Young Blount hasn’t got wind of this, has he?”

Gantry laughed.  “You may be sure he hasn’t.  He has it in for Gryson on general principles—­made us take him off the shop pay-rolls.  If he thought we were dickering with him now, he’d be down on us like a thousand of brick.”

“Well, why don’t you fix Gryson, once for all, and have it over with?  You oughtn’t to expect me to come here and tell you what to do!”

It was at this point that Kittredge broke in.

“Gryson isn’t safe.  I have it straight that he is getting ready to sell us out.  That’s why he wants his pay in advance.”

The vice-president’s heavy brows met in a frown, and the muscles of his square jaw hardened.

“Put Gryson on the rack and show him what you’ve got on him in that Montana bank robbery.  That will bring him to book.  It will be time enough to talk about terms when he delivers the goods.  Now another thing—­that Shonoho Inn matter that I wired about—­what has been done?”

“It is all arranged,” said the big superintendent.  “The house was closed for the season last month, and we have taken a short lease.  One of our dining-car managers will take charge of the service.”

“And the wires?”

“We have made a cut-in from the old Shoshone Mine wire, which wasn’t taken down when the mine was abandoned.  That let us out very neatly, and no one outside of our own line-men know anything about the job.  We have four instruments in the hotel writing-room; two on the commercial and two on the railroad wires.  Will that be enough?”

Mr. McVickar nodded and reached over to press the bell-push which signalled to his train conductor.