Wheat Belt Line was already in operation east and west, and could not be affected by that Act, and, of course, the same Bill which prevented competition to the Farmers' Road also, in a measure, protected the Wheat Belt Line through the same district."
"By Jove!" said Steele, his eyes glistening, "this is a proposition which contains some peculiar points. Well, go on, what happened?"
"Oh, disaster happened. In spite of the legislation and bonuses, the road was a complete failure, and ruined all who were deeply interested in it. The farmers subscribed stock to the amount of something like a hundred thousand dollars, but this money, with the sum of the legislative grant and the bonuses, was all swallowed up in the first twenty miles, and in getting the rolling-stock and equipment, such as it is. The line was never pushed through to Jamestown, and there arose litigation about some of the bonuses that had been paid, and, all in all, it was a most disastrous business. It was hoped that the Wheat Belt Line would come to the rescue and buy the unfinished road, but they would not look at it. This section has never paid a dividend, and is supposed to be doing well when it produces enough money for expenses and repairs. The shares can now be bought for five cents on the dollar, or less."
"How much of it do you possess, Miss Slocum?"
"I have a thousand shares, and my father told me not to part with them, because he was certain that some day they would be valuable."
For a few moments there was silence in the car, and the girl, glancing up at her companion, found his ardent gaze fixed upon her with an intensity that was embarrassing. She flushed slightly and turned her head to look out of the window at the familiar scenery they were passing. It would have surprised the young man could he have read the thoughts that occupied the mind of this extremely pretty and charmingly modest girl who sat opposite him. Here is practically what she said to herself—
"I am tired of this deadly dull village in which I live, and here, at last, is a way out. I read in his eyes the beginning of admiration. He shall be the youthful Moses to lead me into the Promised Land. Through this lucky meeting I shall attain the city if I but play my cards rightly."
It would have astonished the girl if she had known what was in the man's mind. The ardent gaze was not for her, as she had supposed. Although he appeared to be looking directly at her, he was in reality almost ignorant of her presence, and saw unfolded before him a scene far beyond her—the whole range of the eastern States. The power that enabled him to stop the fast express at Slocum Junction gave a hint of Steele's position in the railway world to the station-master, but it conveyed no meaning to the girl. It was his business to be intimately acquainted with the railway situation in north-western America, and that involved the knowledge of what was going on in the eastern States. He knew that the Rockervelt system was making for somewhere near this point, and that, ultimately, it would need to cross the State, in spite of the opposition it must meet from the Wheat Belt Line. Whoever possessed the Farmers' bankrupt road held the right of way across the State, so far as a belt of one hundred and twenty miles was concerned. It seemed incredible that Rockervelt, this Napoleon of the railway world, should be ignorant of the obstacle that lay in his path. Rockervelt was in the habit of buying legislatures and crushing opposition; still, he never spent money where it was not required, and it would be infinitely cheaper to buy the Farmers' Road, and thus secure the privileges pertaining to it, than to purchase the repeal of the obstructing law. At that moment Jack Steele determined to camp across the path of the conqueror. If Napoleon accepted battle, Jack was under no delusion as to the result. The name of Steele would disappear from the roll of rising young men in Chicago, and he would have to begin at the bottom of the ladder again. However, he knew that Napoleon's eye was fixed on the Pacific coast, and that he never wasted time in a fight if a reasonable expenditure of money would cause the enemy to withdraw. Steele calculated that he could control the road for something under three thousand dollars, which would give him the majority of the stock at the price the girl had named. That was a mere bagatelle. Then he would withdraw from Rockervelt's front for anything between three hundred thousand dollars and half a million.
A sigh from the girl brought him to a realisation of his neglect of social duties, and the brilliant vision of loot faded from his eyes.
"What pretty scenery we are passing!" he said. "The wooded dell, and the sparkling little rivulet running through it. It is sweet and soothing after the rush and turmoil of a great city. It must be a delight to live here."
"Indeed it isn't!" cried the girl; "it is horrid! Deadly dull, utterly common place, with little chance of improving the mind, and none at all for advancing one's material condition. I loathe the life and yearn for the city."
As she said this, she bestowed upon him a fascinating glimpse of a pair of lovely eyes, and veiled within them he saw what he took to be a tender appeal for sympathy and, perhaps, for help. After all, he was a young man, and perhaps that glance had carried a hypnotic suggestion to his very soul; and, added to all this, the girl was undoubtedly beautiful.
"Really," he said, leaning forward towards her, "I think that might be managed, you know."
"Do you?" she asked, looking him full in the face.
At that interesting moment the car slowly came to a standstill at a wooden platform, and Joe thrust open the door and shouted—
"Here you are! Bunkerville!"
Dorothy Slocum held out her hand shyly to John Steele as she bade him "Good-bye." She thanked him once more for allowing her to ride on the special train, and added—
"If you ever come to Bunkerville again, I hope you will not forget me."
"Forget you!" cried the enthusiastic young man. "I think you entirely underrate the attractions of Bunkerville. It seems to me a lovely village. But I shall visit it again—not because of itself, but for the reason that a certain Miss Dorothy lives here."
To this complimentary speech Miss Slocum made no reply, but she laughed and blushed in a manner very becoming to her, and somehow managed to leave an impression on Mr. Steele's mind that she was far from being displeased at the words he had uttered.
When she had gone, the traveller asked Joe where the office of Mr. Hazlett, the lawyer, was situated; and being directed, he was speedily in the presence of the chief legal functionary that Bunkerville possessed. Steele had a considerable amount of money lent upon Bunkerville business property, and his lawyer had written him that as times were backward, there was some difficulty in persuading the debtors to meet the requirements of the mortgages. If the mortgages were foreclosed and the property sold, Hazlett did not think it would produce the money that had been borrowed upon it, and so Steele had informed him that he would drop off at Bunkerville on his way west, and see his security for himself.
The lawyer had been expecting him on the regular train, and so was not at the station to meet him. If Hazlett had expected a visit from a hard old skinflint, resolved on having his pound of financial flesh, he must have, been somewhat surprised to greet a smiling young fellow who seemed to be thinking of anything but the property in question.
"We will just walk down the street," said the lawyer, "and I'll show you the buildings."
"All right," said Steele, "if it doesn't take too long; for I must catch the three o'clock local at Slocum Junction."
During their walk together, Steele paid but the scan test interest to the edifices pointed out to him, and the lawyer soon found he was not even listening to the particulars he so circumstantially gave.
"Do you know anything about the Farmers' Railway?" was the question Steele shot at him in the midst of a score of reasons why it was better not to foreclose at the present moment.
"I
