CHAPTER XVIII
The dictograph which Shirley had asked Bryce to obtain for her in SanFrancisco arrived on the regular passenger-steamer on Thursday morningand Bryce called her up to ask when she desired it sent over.
"Good morning, Mr. Cardigan," she greeted him cheerily. "How do you feelthis morning? Any the worse for having permitted yourself to be a humanbeing last night?"
"Why, I feel pretty fine, Shirley. I think it did me a lot of good tocrawl out of my shell last night."
"You feel encouraged to go on living, eh?"
"Yes."
"And fighting?"
"By all means."
"Then, something has occurred of late to give you new courage?"
"Oh, many things. Didn't I give an exhibition of my courage in acceptingOgilvy's invitation to dinner, knowing you were going to be there?"
She did not like that. "You carry your frankness to extremes, myfriend," she retorted. "I'm sure I've always been much nicer to you thanyou deserve."
"Nevertheless there wasn't any valid reason why I should tantalizemyself last night."
"Then why did you come?" He had a suspicion that she was laughingsilently at him.
"Partly to please Ogilvy, who has fallen head over heels in love withMoira; partly to please Moira, who wanted me to meet you, but mostly toplease myself, because, while I dreaded it, nevertheless I wanted tosee you again. I comforted myself with the thought that for the sake ofappearances we dared not quarrel in the presence of Moira and my friendOgilvy, and I dare say you felt the same way. At any rate, I have seldomhad more enjoyment when partaking of a meal with an enemy."
"Please do not say that," she answered. "I am your opponent, but notyour enemy."
"That's nice of you. By the way, Shirley, you may inform your uncle atbreakfast Friday morning about my connection with the N. C. O. In fact,I think it would be far better for you if you made it a point to do so."
"Why?"
"Because both Ogilvy and myself have a very strong suspicion that youruncle has a detective or two on our trails. There was a strange manrather prevalent around him all day yesterday and I noticed a fellowfollowing my car last night. He was on a bicycle and followed me home.I communicated my suspicions to Ogilvy, and this morning he spent twohours trying to shake the same man off his trail--and couldn't. So Ijudge your uncle will learn to-day that you dined with Ogilvy, Moira,and me last night."
"Oh, dear! That's terrible." He could sense her distress.
"Ashamed of having been seen in my company, eh?"
"Please don't. Are you quite serious in this matter?"
"Quite."
"Uncle Seth will think it so--so strange."
"He'll probably tell you about it. Better beat him to the issue by'fessing up, Shirley. Doubtless his suspicions are already aroused, andif you inform him that you know I am the real builder of the N. C. O.,he'll think you're a smart woman and that you've been doing a littleprivate gum-shoe work of your own on behalf of the Laguna Grande LumberCompany."
"Which is exactly what I have been doing," she reminded him.
"I know. But then, I'm not afraid of you, Shirley--that is, any more.And after Friday morning I'll not be afraid of your uncle. Do tell himat breakfast. Then watch to see if it affects his appetite."
"Oh, dear! I feel as if I were a conspirator."
"I believe you are one. Your dictograph has arrived. Shall I send GeorgeSea Otter over with it? And have you somebody to install it?"
"Oh, bother! Does it have to be installed?"
"It does. You place the contraption--hide it, rather--in the room wherethe conspirators conspire; then you run wires from it into another roomwhere the detectives listen in on the receivers."
"Could George Sea Otter install it?"
"I think he could. There is a printed card of instructions, and I daresay George would find the job no more baffling than the ignition-systemon the Napier."
"Will he tell anybody?"
"Not if you ask him not to."
"Not even you?"
"Not even a whisper to himself, Shirley."
"Very well, then. Please send him over. Thank you so much, BryceCardigan. You're an awful good old sort, after all. Really, it hurts meto have to oppose you. It would be so much nicer if we didn't have allthose redwood trees to protect, wouldn't it?"
"Let us not argue the question, Shirley. I think I have my redwood treesprotected. Good-bye."
He had scarcely finished telephoning his home to instruct George SeaOtter to report with the express package to Shirley when Buck Ogilvystrolled into the office and tossed a document on his desk. "There'syour little old temporary franchise, old thing," he announced; and withmany a hearty laugh he related to Bryce the ingenious means by which hehad obtained it. "And now if you will phone up to your logging-camp andinstruct the woods-boss to lay off about fifty men to rest for the day,pending a hard night's work, and arrange to send them down on the lastlog-train to-day, I'll drop around after dinner and we'll fly to thatjump-crossing. Here's a list of the tools we'll need."
"I'll telephone Colonel Pennington's manager and ask him to kick aswitch-engine in on the Laurel Creek spur and snake those flat-cars withmy rails aboard out to the junction with the main line," Bryce replied.And he called up the Laguna Grande Lumber Company--only to be informedby no less a person than Colonel Pennington himself that it would beimpossible to send the switch-engine in until the following afternoon.The Colonel was sorry, but the switch-engine was in the shop having thebrick in her fire-box renewed, while the mogul that hauled the log tramswould not have time to attend to the matter, since the flats would haveto be spotted on the sidetrack at Cardigan's log-landing in the woods,and this could not be done until the last loaded log-train for the dayhad been hauled out to make room.
"Why not switch back with the mogul after the logtrain has been hauledout on the main line?" Bryce demanded pointedly.
Pennington, however, was not trapped. "My dear fellow," he repliedpatronizingly, "quite impossible, I assure you. That old trestle acrossthe creek, my boy--it hasn't been looked at for years. While I'd sendthe light switch-engine over it and have no fears--"
"I happen to know, Colonel, that the big mogul kicked those flats in toload the rails!"
"I know it. And what happened? Why, that old trestle squeaked and shookand gave every evidence of being about to buckle in the centre. Myengineer threatened to quit if I sent him in again."
"Very well. I suppose I'll have to wait until the switch-engine comesout of the shop," Bryce replied resignedly, and hung up. He turneda troubled face to Ogilvy. "Checkmated!" he announced. "Whipped to afrazzle. The Colonel is lying, Buck, and I've caught him at it. Asa matter of fact, the mogul didn't kick those flats in at all. Theswitch-engine did--and I know it. Now I'm going to send a man over tosnoop around Pennington's roundhouse and verify his report about theswitch-engine being in the shop."
He did so. Half an hour later the messenger returned with theinformation that not only was the switch-engine not in the shop but herfire-box had been overhauled the week before and was reported to be inexcellent condition.
"That settles it," Buck Ogilvy mourned. "He had gum-shoe men on mytrail, after all; they have reported, and the Colonel is as suspiciousas a rhino. He doesn't know anything, but he smells danger just thesame."
"Exactly, Buck. So he is delaying the game until he can learn somethingdefinite." He drummed idly on his desk for several minutes. Then:
"Buck, can you run a locomotive?"
"With one hand, old man."
"Fine business! Well, I guess we'll put in that crossing to-morrownight. The switch-engine will be in the roundhouse at Pennington's millto-morrow night so we can't steal that; but we can steal the mogul. I'lljust send word up to my woods-boss not to have his train loaded whenthe mogul comes up late to-morrow afternoon to haul it down to ourlog-landing. He will explain to the engineer and fireman that our bigbull donkey went out and we couldn't get our logs down to the landingin
time to get them loaded that day. Of course, the engine-crew won'tbother to run down to Sequoia for the night--that is, they won't run themogul down. They'll just leave her at our log-landing all night and putup for the night at our camp. However, if they should be forced, becauseof their private affairs, to return to Sequoia, they'll borrow mytrackwalker's velocipede. I have one that is driven with a smallgasolene engine--I use it in running back and forth to the logging-campin case I fail to connect with a log-train."
"But how do you know they will put up at your camp all night, Bryce?"
"My men will make them comfortable, and it means they can lie abed untilseven o'clock instead of having to roll out at five o'clock, which wouldbe the case if they spent the night at this end of the line. If theydo not stay at our logging-camp, the mogul will stay there, provided mywoods-foreman lends them my velocipede. The fireman would prefer that tofiring that big mogul all the way back to Sequoia."
"Yes," Buck agreed, "I think he would."
"There is a slight grade at our log-landing. I know that, because theair leaked out of the brakes on a log-train I was on a short timeago, and the train ran away with me. Now, the engine-crew will set theairbrakes on the mogul and leave her with steam up to throb all night;they'll not blow her down, for that would mean work firing her in themorning. Our task, Buck, will be to throw off the airbrakes and let herglide silently out of our log-landing. About a mile down the road we'llstop, get up steam, run down to the junction with the main line, backin on the Laurel Creek spur, couple on to those flat-cars and breezemerrily down to Sequoia with them. They'll be loaded waiting for us; ourmen will be congregated in our dry-yard just off Water Street near B,waiting for us to arrive with the rails--and bingo--we go to it. Afterwe drop the flats, we'll run the engine back to the woods, leave itwhere we found it, return a-flying on the velocipede, if it's there, orin my automobile, if it isn't there. You can get back in ample time tosuperintend the cutting of the crossing!"
"Spoken like a man!" quoth Buck Ogilvy. "You're the one man in thisworld for whom I'd steal a locomotive. 'At-a boy!"
Had either of the conspirators known of Pennington's plans to entertainMayor Poundstone at dinner on Thursday night, it is probable they wouldnot have cheered until those flat-cars were out of the woods.
The Valley of the Giants Page 28
