ohn Churm, honest and wise, was off at the West, with his
Herculean shoulders at the wheels of a dead-locked railroad. These honest
fellows did not wish Dunderbunk to fail for several reasons. First, it was
not pleasant to lose their investment. Second, one important failure might
betray Credit to Crisis with Panic at its heels, whereupon every
investment would be in danger. Third, what would become of their
Directorial reputations? From President Brummage down, each of these
gentlemen was one of the pockets to be picked in a great many companies.
Each was of the first Wall-Street fashion, invited to lend his name and
take stock in every new enterprise. Any one of them might have walked down
town in a long patchwork toga made of the newspaper advertisements of
boards in which his name proudly figured. If Dunderbunk failed, the toga
was torn, and might presently go to rags beyond repair. The first rent
would inaugurate universal rupture. How to avoid this disaster?--that was
the question.

"State the case, Mr. Superintendent Whiffler," said President Brummage, in
his pompous manner, with its pomp a little collapsed, _pro tempore_.

Inefficient Whiffler whimpered out his story.

The confessions of an impotent executive are sorry stuff to read.
Whiffler's long, dismal complaint shall not be repeated. He had taken a
prosperous concern, had carried on things in his own way, and now failure
was inevitable. He had bought raw material lavishly, and worked it badly
into half-ripe material, which nobody wanted to buy. He was in arrears to
his hands. He had tried to bully them, when they asked for their money.
They had insulted him, and threatened to knock off work, unless they were
paid at once. "A set of horrid ruffians," Whiffler said,--"and his life
wouldn't be safe many days among them."

"Withdraw, if you please, Mr. Superintendent," President Brummage
requested. "The Board will discuss measures of relief."

The more they discussed, the more consternation. Nobody said anything to
the purpose, except Mr. Sam Gwelp, his late father's lubberly son and
successor.

"Blast!" said he; "we shall have to let it slide!"

Into this assembly of imbeciles unexpectedly entered Mr. John Churm. He
had set his Western railroad trains rolling, and was just returned to
town. Now he was ready to put those Herculean shoulders at any other
bemired and rickety no-go-cart.

Mr. Churm was not accustomed to be a Director in feeble companies.