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Updated: June 12, 2025
Jerry had already made peace with Mrs. Thomas, so little time was lost in waiting for Dave to snatch a bite to eat and be on his way. "I've got four bits loose in my pocket," announced Jerry, once they were out on the street. "If we don't let any grass grow on the side streets while we're moving we can make the two-five express on the Dellwood Interurban.
"All right!" they both ejaculated at once. "We win," I said. They stood gazing at me. Even Dickinson, who was rarely ruffled, seemed excited. "Do you mean to say you've fixed it?" he demanded. I nodded. They stared at me in amazement. "How the deuce did you manage it?" "We organize the Interurban Telephone Company, and bid for the franchise that's all." "A dummy company!" cried Tallant.
What did little Dave do but run around to persuade old man Elton to sell them that little point that juts out into the river two miles from town and just across from the rock quarry. No neighbors to kick and the interurban runs through the field.
"'Tis not that wan I was thinkin' of," said Flannery, "but that wan will do. 'Tis a high-soundin' worrd, deceased." He dipped his pen in the ink again. " cat is diseased," he wrote. "Pleas give disposal. Mike Flannery." When the New York office of the Interurban Express Company received Flannery's letter they called up Hibbert & Jones on the telephone.
She had no sooner embarked upon the big Interurban trolley-car which was to take her to Mercerton than her attention was wholly diverted from uneasy reflections by the unexpected appearance of two of the house-party guests.
Today men operating electric engines or motor or gas cars on lines using electricity are eligible for membership, if they are otherwise qualified. This arrangement does not interfere with unions already established on interurban lines. The leadership of this order of firemen has been less continuous, though scarcely less conspicuous, than that of the other brotherhoods.
No interurban lines were being operated and steam lines were making little effort to maintain train service. The business district and the south and west sides of Logansport were under water. The bridge at the Country Club had been washed away. All down the length of the Wabash the torrent raged.
He was a man of about my own age, round-faced and rather fleshy. In my Glendale days I should have set him down at once as a traveling salesman. He looked the part and dressed it. Farther along, upon reaching the interurban station, I was able to breathe freer and to smile at the qualms of my new-liberty nervousness.
Mosher flying home, her skirts billowing behind her, after a protracted afternoon at whist; little Ernie Trost with a napkin-covered peach basket carefully balanced in his hand, waiting for the six-fifteen interurban to round the corner near the switch, so that he could hand up his father's supper; Rudie Mass, the butcher, with a moist little packet of meat in his hand, and lurching ever so slightly, and looking about defiantly.
He sat in the head office of the company at Franklin and said "Let this be done," and, in every suburban town where the Interurban had offices, that thing was done, under pain of dismissal from the service of the company. Even Flannery, who was born rebellious, would scratch his red hair in the Westcoate office and grumble and then follow orders.
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