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Updated: May 26, 2025
The general manager, a sallow, heavy-visaged man who might have passed in a platform gathering for a retired manufacturer or a senator from the Middle West, swung in his pivot-chair to welcome the incomer. "Glad to see you, MacMorrogh. Sit down. What's the news from New York?" The contractor found a chair; drew it close to the general manager's desk, and filled it.
"Well, what's the cost to us?" inquired Frisbie, coming down out of the high atmosphere of the superstitious to stand upon the solid earth of railway-building fact. "I don't know: possibly failure. There is no guessing what sort of a scheme North will cook up when he and MacMorrogh get Mr. Colbrith cornered." "Oh, it can't be as bad as that.
His life is passed in the agreeable discharge of all the important duties of his exalted station, and his present career is by far a better answer to the lucubrations of young Duncan Macmorrogh than all the abstract arguments that ever yet were offered in favour of the existence of an aristocracy. Hauteville House and Hauteville Castle proceed in regular course.
Adair he was crawling up Blue Canyon, with a train crew which was under orders to give him ample time to study the scenery. He has probably reached Saint's Rest before this, however, and once there, Leckhard will give him anything in sight. The question is, will he attempt to run the extension to-night?" The middle MacMorrogh thought not, and his younger brother agreed with him.
'George! is it possible! exclaimed Lord Fitz-pompey. 'I will speak to you in the House, said the Duke, passing on, and bowing to Mr. Duncan Macmorrogh.
Ford is an ambitious young man, and he is not building railroads for his health." The MacMorrogh was nodding slowly. Nevertheless, he made difficulties. "Me hand's not light enough for that, Misther North." Again the general manager smiled. "You require a deal of prompting, sometimes, Brian. What's the matter with a trusty go-between?" "H'm, that's it, now.
Ford blew reflective smoke rings toward the ceiling for a full minute or more before he said quietly: "Do I understand that you are authorized to guarantee me ten thousand a year in commissions from the MacMorrogh Brothers, Mr. Eckstein?" Eckstein laughed. "You forget that I'm only a clerk, and an onlooker, as you may say.
But Brian MacMorrogh argued with equal emphasis that this was a mere begging of chances. Without a telegraph wire to verify the guess, no man could say at what hour one of the trains of empties would pull through to Saint's Rest; and whatever the hour, Leckhard would doubtless turn the engine and crew to double back with Adair's car.
Eckstein to step in here a minute." It was the private secretary, the well-groomed young man with the alien eyes and nose who answered the summons. North gave him his instructions in a curt sentence. "Mr. MacMorrogh would like to have a little talk with you, Eckstein: take him into the other room where you can be undisturbed."
The secretary whipped out a note-book and pencil. "Shall I take your message? I can send it when I go back to the office." "Thank you," said Ford; then he began to dictate, slowly and methodically: "To S.J. Colbrith, care McVeigh and Mackie, New York. This is to recall my objections to MacMorrogh Brothers, as stated in letter of the twenty-fifth from Chicago.
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