No sooner had his bills been assigned to the careful and just consideration of the committees in charge of the Honourable Brush Bascom, Mr. Botcher, and others than Mr. Crewe desired of each a day for a hearing.  Every member of the five hundred was provided with a copy; nay, nearly every member was personally appealed to, to appear and speak for the measures.  Foresters, road builders, and agriculturists (expenses paid) were sent for from other States; Mr. Ball and others came down from Leith, and gentlemen who for a generation had written letters to the newspapers turned up from other localities.  In two cases the largest committee rooms proved too small for the gathering which was the result of Mr. Crewe’s energy, and the legislative hall had to be lighted.  The State Tribune gave column reports of the hearings, and little editorial pushes besides.  And yet, when all was over, when it had been proved beyond a doubt that, if the State would consent to spend a little money, she would take the foremost rank among her forty odd sisters for progression, the bills were still under consideration by those hardheaded statesmen, Mr. Bascom and Mr. Botcher and their associates.

It could not be because these gentlemen did not know the arguments and see the necessity.  Mr. Crewe had had them to dinner, and had spent so much time in their company presenting his case—­to which they absolutely agreed—­that they took to a forced seclusion.  The member from Leith also wrote letters and telegrams, and sent long typewritten arguments and documents to Mr. Flint.  Mr. Crewe, although far from discouraged, began to think there was something mysterious about all this seemingly unnecessary deliberation.

Mr. Crewe, though of great discernment, was only mortal, and while he was fighting his battle single-handed, how was he to know that the gods above him were taking sides and preparing for conflict?  The gods do not give out their declarations of war for publication to the Associated Press; and old Tom Gaylord, who may be likened to Mars, had no intention of sending Jupiter notice until he got his cohorts into line.  The strife, because it was to be internecine, was the more terrible.  Hitherto the Gaylord Lumber Company, like the Winona Manufacturing Company of Newcastle (the mills of which extended for miles along the Tyne), had been a faithful ally of the Empire; and, on occasions when it was needed, had borrowed the Imperial army to obtain grants, extensions, and franchises.

The fact is that old Tom Gaylord, in the autumn previous, had quarreled with Mr. Flint about lumber rates, which had been steadily rising.  Mr. Flint had been polite, but firm; and old Tom, who, with all his tremendous properties, could ship by no other railroad than the Northeastern, had left the New York office in a black rage.  A more innocent citizen than old Tom would have put his case (which was without doubt a strong one) before the Railroad Commission of the State, but