“Twelve miles, I believe you said:  that is a very considerable increase, I should say.  The great eastern companies are spending millions of dollars, Mr. Ford, to shorten their lines by half-mile cut-offs.”

Ford had his reply ready.

“The conditions are entirely different.  It will be many years before a fast through service is either practicable or profitable over the extension; and when it comes to that, we shall still have the short line from Denver to Green Butte by forty-two miles.  But I explained all this at the time, Mr. Colbrith, and I understood that I had the executive committee’s approval of the changed route.”

“Qualifiedly, Mr. Ford; only qualifiedly.  Yet you have gone ahead in your usual impetuous way, abandoning the short line through the canyon and building the detour.  Your motive for haste must have been a very strong one—­very strong.”

“It was.  I am not here to kill time.”

“So it appears.  But I am here, Mr. Ford, to consider carefully, and to investigate.  We shall go first over this route you have abandoned.  I wish to see for myself the difficulties you have so painstakingly described.”

Ford shrugged.

“I’m quite at your service, of course.  But you will find it a hard trip.  Indeed, if we drive, we shall have to cross the river and take the other side.  The canyon on this side is impassable in places for a man on foot.”

“I provided for that,” said the president, letting his ferrety eyes rest for a moment upon the reluctant one.  “You will find two buckboards with their drivers at the MacMorrogh headquarters.  Be good enough to order them around, and we’ll start at once.  No; no protests, Mr. Ford.  My responsibilities are not to be shirked.  Penfield will drive with me, and you may take Mr. Frisbie with you, if you see fit.  I understand he is implicated with you in this matter.”

Ford bridled angrily at the word.

“There is no implication about it, Mr. Colbrith.  You continually refer to it as if it were a crime.”

“Ah! the word is yours, Mr. Ford.  We shall see—­we shall see.  That is all, for the present.”

Ford was raging when he found Frisbie and gave the order for the vehicles.

“He turned me out of his office state-room as if I had been a messenger boy or tramp!  Get those teams out, Dick, and give me a chance to cool down.  If my job is to last through this day—­”

Frisbie laughed.  “Go and dip your head in the Pannikin while you wait.  Or, better still, chew on this.  It’s a cipher message that Durgin has just been sending for Penfield to Vice-President North.  Wouldn’t that make you weep and howl?”