t. I see the Pages
selling--or what looks mighty like it--and I see them beginning to look
around and talk on the quiet about crowding things a little on their new
houses, and it just strikes me that there's likely to be a devil of a
lot of wheat coming into Chicago before the year runs out; and if that's
so, why, there's got to be a place to put it when it gets here."

"Do they have to have an elevator to put it in?" asked Peterson. "Can't
they deliver it in the cars? I don't know much about that side of the
business."

"I should say not. The Board of Trade won't recognize grain as delivered
until it has been inspected and stored in a registered house."

"When would the house have to be ready?"

"Well, if I'm right, if they're going to put December wheat in this
house, they'll have to have it in before the last day of December."

"We couldn't do that," said Peterson, "if the cribbing was here."

Bannon, who had stretched out on the bed, swung his feet around and sat
up. The situation was not easy, but he had been sent to Calumet to get
the work done in time, and he meant to do it.

"Now, about this cribbing, Pete," he said; "we've got to have it before
we can touch the annex?"

"I guess that's about it," Peterson replied.

"I've been figuring a little on this bill. I take it there's something
over two million feet altogether. Is that right?"

"It's something like that. Couldn't say exactly. Max takes care of the
lumber."

Bannon's brows came together.

"You ought to know a little more about this yourself, Pete. You're the
man that's building the house."

"I guess I've been pushing it along as well as any one could," said
Peterson, sullenly.

"That's all right. I ain't hitting at you. I'm talking business, that's
all. Now, if Vogel's right, this cribbing ought to have been here
fourteen days ago--fourteen days to-morrow."

Peterson nodded.

"That's just two weeks of lost time. How've you been planning to make
that up?"

"Why--why--I reckon I can put things together soon's I get the
cribbing."

"Look here, Pete. The office has contracted to get this house done by a
certain date. They've got to pay $750 for every day that we run over
that date. There's no getting out of that, cribbing or no cribbing. When
they're seeing ten or twenty thousand dollars slipping out of their
hands, do you think they're going to thank you for telling 'em that the
G. & M. railroad couldn't get cars? They don't care what