d
Northern, the impecunious one. That is the reason I'm so nice to
everybody, Mr. Wetherell. The other day a conductor on my road had a
shock of paralysis when a man paid his fare. Then there's Batch,
president of the 'Down East' road, as we call it. Batch and I are out of
this fight,--we don't care whether Isaac D. Worthington gets his
franchise or not, or I wouldn't be telling you this. The two railroads
which don't want him to get it, because the Truro would eventually become
a competitor with them, are the Central and the Northwestern. Alexander
Duncan is president of the Central."

"Alexander Duncan!" exclaimed Wetherell. "He's the richest man in the
state, isn't he?"

"Yes," said Mr. Merrill, "and he lives in a big square house right here
in the capital. He ain't a bad fellow, Duncan. You'd like him. He loves
books. I wish you could see his library."

"I'm afraid there's not much chance of that," answered Wetherell.

"Well, as I say, there's Duncan, of the Central, and the other is
Lovejoy, of the Northwestern. Lovejoy's a bachelor and a skinflint. Those
two, Duncan and Lovejoy, are using every means in their power to prevent
Worthington from getting that franchise. Have I made myself clear?"

"Do you think Mr. Worthington will get it?" asked Wetherell, who had in
mind a certain nocturnal visit at his store.

Mr. Merrill almost leaped out of his chair at the question. Then he
mopped his face, and winked very deliberately at the storekeeper. Then
Mr. Merrill laughed.

"Well, well," he said, "for a man who comes down here to stay with Jethro
Bass to ask me that!" Whereupon Mr. Wetherell flushed, and began to
perspire himself. "Didn't you hear Isaac D. Worthington's virtuous appeal
to the people at Brampton?" said Mr. Merrill.

"Yes," replied Wetherell, getting redder.

"I like you, Will," said Mr. Merrill, unexpectedly, "darned if I don't.
I'll tell you what I know about it, and you can have a little fun while
you're here, lookin' on, only it won't do to write about it to the
Newcastle Guardian. Guess Willard wouldn't publish it, anyhow. I suppose
you know that Jethro pulls the strings, end we little railroad presidents
dance. We're the puppets now, but after a while, when I'm crowded out,
all these little railroads will get together and there'll be a row worth
looking at, or I'm mistaken. But to go back to Worthington," continued
Mr. Merrill, "he made a little mistake with his bill in the beginning.
Inst