reform. And while many, perhaps the majority, of the men employed in the
railroad and in the lumber camps, though they were subject to periodic
lapses from the path of sobriety and virtue, were really opposed to the
saloon and its allies, yet they lacked leadership and were, therefore,
unreliable. It was at this point that the machine in each party began to
cherish a nervous apprehension in regard to the influence of Dr.
Boyle. Bitter enemies though they were, they united their forces in an
endeavour to have the doctor removed. The wires ordinarily effective
were pulled with considerable success, when the manipulators met with an
unexpected obstacle in General Manager Fahey. Upon him the full force of
the combined influences available was turned, but to no purpose. He was
too good a railway manager to be willing to lose the services of a man
"who knew his work and did it right, a man who couldn't be bullied or
blocked, and a man, bedad, who could play a good game of poker."

"He stays while I stay," was Fahey's last word in reply to an
influential director, labouring in the interests of the party machine.

Failing with Fahey, the allied forces tried another line of attack.
"Mexico" and the organization of which he was the head were instructed
to "run him out." Receiving his orders, "Mexico" called his agents
together and invited their opinions. A sharp cleavage immediately
developed, one party led by "Peachy" being strongly in favour of
obeying the orders, the other party, leaderless and scattering, strongly
opposed. Discussion waxed bitter. "Mexico" sat silent, watchful,
impassive. At length, "Peachy," in full swing of an impassioned and
sulphurous denunciation of the doctor, his person and his ways, was
called abruptly to order by a peremptory word from his chief.

"Shut up your fool head, 'Peachy.' To hear you talk you'd think you'd do
something."

A grim laugh at "Peachy's" expense went round the company.

"Do somethin'?" snarled "Peachy," stung to fury, "I'll do somethin' one
of these days. I've stood you all I want."

"Peachy's" oaths were crude in comparison with "Mexico's," but his fury
lent them force. "Mexico" turned his baleful, gleaming eyes upon him.

"Do something? Meaning?"

"Never mind," growled "Peachy."

"Git!" "Mexico" pointed a long finger to the door. It was a word of
doom, and they all knew it, for it meant not simply dismissal from that
meeting, but banishment from the company of which "M