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Updated: June 22, 2025
Lidgerwood was adding another minute square to the pencilled checker-board on his desk blotter. "Discharge Johnston and hold back his time-check. Then have him arrested for stealing, and wire the legal department at Denver that I want him prosecuted." Again McCloskey's rough-cast face became the outward presentment of a soul in anxious trouble.
Benson's news had merely confirmed his own and McCloskey's conclusion that some one in authority was in collusion with the thieves who were raiding the company. Sooner or later it must come to a grapple, and he dreaded it. It was deep in the night when he closed his desk and went to the little room partitioned off in the rear of the private office as a sleeping-apartment.
At length, hearing McCloskey's raised to a higher key, she could no longer restrain her impatience, and gently opening the door, looked into the room. Both their faces were turned in the opposite direction, so that neither noticed the gentle intrusion of Lizzie, who, fearing to leave her father longer alone, ventured into the apartment.
At the first break there are going to be some very striking examples made of all the wreckers and looters we can land on." McCloskey's chair faced the window, and he was scowling and mouthing at the tall chimney of the shop power-plant across the tracks.
Not to leave anything undone, Lidgerwood summoned McCloskey by a touch of the buzzer-push connecting with the trainmaster's office. "No word from Judson yet?" he asked, when McCloskey's homely face appeared in the doorway. "No, not yet," was the reply. "Let me know when you hear from him; and in the meantime I wish you would go downstairs and see if Gridley came in on 203.
Again McCloskey's hat went to the pugnacious angle. "I don't know anything any more; you couldn't prove it by me what day of the week it is. But I can tell you one thing, Mr.
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