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Updated: June 21, 2025
And so she greeted Jimmy Torrance pleasantly, almost cordially. "I am delighted," she said, "but I am afraid that I am a little awed, too, as I was just saying to father before you came that I felt an efficiency expert must be a very superior sort of person." If she placed special emphasis on the word "superior" it was so cleverly done that it escaped the notice of her father.
"I don't know what hold you have over that damned crew," Torrance stormed, "but if you'd make them watch the horses you'd be earning your money better than running up here." "That damned crew steal no horses," Koppy objected with dignity. "I hold my men yes," he went on proudly. "You pay me for that. I make them obey boss. Ignace Koppowski make them " "Yes, yes," Conrad broke in testily.
Torrance, flaming as usual before unexpected opposition, was about to fire him on the spot, when the noise of metal against metal drew Tressa to the door. "It's Constable Williams and a new Policeman a Sergeant. Father's here, Mr. Williams. He was sending for you. There's been a dreadful accident. A piece of the trestle fell and killed two of the men."
A moment of silence, then: "Me Indian; no pale-face name." Torrance rushed from the bedroom. "Is that the Indian? Good Heavens! The trestle the trestle!" He had thrown wide the front door and gone before they could interfere. A hail of bullets came through. Keener eyes among the trees picked out Torrance's running bulk, but their eyes were keener than their aim.
Werner removed his hat and twirled it in his hand. Twice he cleared his throat before he could bring himself to speak. "We've been sent sent by the general body of workmen " "The bohunks, you mean," drawled Torrance with deliberate insult. "Drop the gush, Lefty. What do you want? . . . And you won't get it." Werner turned anxious eyes on his two stolid friends for moral support.
This locomotive engineer's been doing railway building for half a day; and if ye could do my job as well as I can do yours, Torrance, there'd be no nade o' the two of us. If I had a rowdy, dyed-in-the-wool mob like them under me I'd shoot the lot and have a better stand in with St. Peter than I'm going to have as an engineer.
Acting on the impulse he turned west at the first cross street until he came to a drugstore. Entering a telephone-booth he called a certain number and a moment later had his connection. "Is that you, Edith?" he asked, and at the affirmative reply, "this is Jimmy Torrance. I'm feeling terribly lonesome. I was wondering if I couldn't drag you out to listen to my troubles?"
At least that was the limit of Torrance's information, and none other had such claim to know. But this was not the construction raft and there were the horses. Torrance had already lost a dozen of his best in some mysterious way. It was with that thought that he had seized his rifle. Then the woman!
Leaving Williams in charge, with definite instructions as to Torrance and Murphy, he crept from the back door to the edge of the trestle. The Indian was not there. Mahon wondered how much of it was dream. Then the redskin was swept from his mind by the sound of life far below about the base of the trestle. The bohunks were attacking there.
Up through the night came the beating car, everything wide open, and stopped before the door. Into the shaft of light from the open doorway Torrance and Sergeant Mahon ran. "Chief, Chief, where are you?" From out over the trestle a voice replied. "Indian gone." Torrance dashed out on the grade and tried in vain to pierce the darkness. "Here here, you blithering idiot! The police want you."
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