ve been a railroad
president himself. He hung up the receiver, however, without accomplishing
anything, for the young man finally told him that Mr. Porter had gone out
for the afternoon.

So next morning Bannon tried again. He learned that Porter was in, and all
seemed to be going well until he mentioned MacBride & Company, after which
Mr. Porter became very elusive. Three or four attempts to pin him down, or
at least to learn his whereabouts, proved unsuccessful, and at last
Bannon, with wrath in his heart, started down town.

It was nearly night before he came back, and as before, he found Pete
sitting gloomily in the office waiting his return. "Well," exclaimed the
night boss, looking at him eagerly; "I thought you was never coming back.
We've most had a fit here, wondering how you'd come out. I don't have to
ask you, though. I can see by your looks that we're all right."

Bannon laughed, and glanced over at Hilda, who was watching him closely.
"Is that your guess, too, Miss Vogel?"

"I don't think so," she said. "I think you've had a pretty hard time."

"They're both good guesses," he said, pulling a paper out of his pocket,
and handing it to Hilda. "Read that." It was a formal permit for building
the gallery, signed by Porter himself, and bearing the O.K. of the general
manager.

"Nice, isn't it?" Bannon commented. "Now read the postscript, Miss Vogel."
It was in Porter's handwriting, and Hilda read it slowly. "MacBride &
Company are not, however, allowed to erect trestles or temporary
scaffolding in the C. & S. C. right-of-way, nor to remove any property of
the Company, such as fences, nor to do anything which may, in the opinion
of the local authorities, hinder the movement of trains."

Pete's face went blank. "A lot of good this darned permit does us then.
That just means we can't build it."

Bannon nodded. "That's what it's supposed to mean," he said. "That's just
the point."

"You see, it's like this," he went on. "That man Porter would make the
finest material for ring-oiling, dust proof, non-inflammable bearings that
I ever saw. He's just about the hardest, smoothest, shiniest, coolest
little piece of metal that ever came my way. Well, he wants to delay us on
this job. I took that in the moment I saw him. Well, I told him how we
went ahead, just banking on his verbal consent, and how his railroad had
jumped on us; and I said I was sure it was just a misunderstanding, but I
wanted it cleared up beca