“There’s something a bit curious about that—­you don’t mind our talking shop like a pair of floor-walkers, do you, Miss Adair?  You know we expected the MacMorroghs would kick on the change of route and the loss of the big rock-cut in the canyon.  There wasn’t a word of protest.  If I hadn’t known better, I should have said that old Brian MacMorrogh knew all about it in advance.  All he said was:  ’Sure, ’tis your railroad, and we’ll be buildin’ it anywheres you say, Misther Frisbie.’  And the very next day he had a little army of men on that detour, throwing dirt to beat the band.  It’ll be ready for the steel by the time we can get to it with the track-layers.”

Ford nodded approvingly.  “Speed is what we are paying for, and we’re thankful to get it whenever, and wherever, we can.  Is the bridge timber coming down all right now?”

“Yes; and we are getting plenty of ties since the major put on his war-paint and went after the MacMorrogh subs in the tie-camps.  It is the rock work that is holding us back.”

Ford nodded again.  Then he tried a little shot in the dark.

“The president’s car is just below—­at the basin switch.  He wants to have it taken to the front, and I have been trying to dissuade him.  Is the track safe for it?”

Frisbie guessed what kind of answer was desired, and stretched the truth a little.

“I should say not.  It’s something fierce, even for the construction trains.”

Miss Alicia’s smile was seraphic.

“You two gentlemen needn’t tell fibs for the possible effect on me,” she said, with charming frankness.  “Nothing I could say would carry any weight with Uncle Sidney.”

“Stung!” said Frisbie, half to himself; and the two men laughed shamefacedly.

“Will it disarrange things so very much if the Nadia is taken to the ’front’?” asked Miss Adair.

“Well, rather,” said Frisbie bluntly.  Then he tried to excuse himself and made a mess of it.

“Just why?” she persisted.  “Forget the conventions, Mr. Frisbie, and talk to me as you have been talking to Mr. Ford.  Is there any good reason, apart from the inconvenience, why our little pleasure party shouldn’t see your new railroad?  I am appealing to you because Mr. Ford won’t tell me the truth.”

Ford stood aloof and let Frisbie worry with it alone.

“There are a dozen reasons, Miss Adair; the track is fearfully rough—­really, you know, it isn’t safe for a big car like the Nadia.  There are only a few sidings, and what there are, are filled up with construction stuff and camp cars, and—­”

She was shaking her head and laughing at his strivings.

“Never mind,” she said; “you can’t tell the truth, either, with Mr. Ford looking on.  But I shall find it out.”

Frisbie looked horrified.

“You—­you certainly will, Miss Adair; if Mr. Colbrith insists upon having his car dragged over the range.”  Then, being quite willing to make his escape, he turned to his chief.  “Is there anything else?  If not, I’ll be getting back to the Riley mix-up before the trouble has time to grow any bigger.”