The Short Line War Part 25

"He's the man that blocks our game, if he is a fool. If anything should happen to him, there wouldn't be any question as to who was receiver of the road."

Porter said nothing and there was a long silence. Then McNally went on, speaking slowly and guardedly:--

"If there is anything of a mix-up such a thing would be likely enough to happen. He's young enough and c.o.c.ky enough to get hurt quite naturally."

Then Porter spoke quickly, for he read the unsaid meaning in the words.

"That's going too far. I want the road, but not that way."

McNally's drooping lids quivered, but otherwise his face was expressionless. He made no pretence that Porter had misunderstood him. He spoke as though unheeding the interruption.

"If we bring about his disappearance for a day or two,--it needn't hurt him any,--we'll control the road, fight or no fight."

He had meant to say something more, but he stopped, his eyes fixed on the opening door. Following his gaze Porter turned.

"Katherine!" he exclaimed.

With automatic courtesy, McNally rose and drew up a chair for her, but Katherine did not take it. She had worn a high-collared black velvet cloak over her house dress, and she drew it off and threw it over the desk. Then coming up behind her father she touched his forehead lightly with her cool hands.

"Keeping everlastingly at it," she said, trying to speak lightly, "without any dinner or anything. Is business getting so very, very serious?"

The tenderness of it touched Porter, and though he felt that she should not be there he could not send her away.

"We're right in the thick of it now," he said.

"It will all be over one way or the other in a day or two."

"And then," said Katherine, with a little laugh, "and then I'll have somebody to play with again."

She stooped and kissed him, and then noticing that McNally was still standing she addressed him for the first time.

"Please don't wait for me to sit down. I'm going to stay right here."

Porter yielded to the restfulness of having her there and sat with closed eyes, while she stroked the trembling lids with the tips of her fingers.

Neither of the men spoke, and at last Katherine broke the silence.

"Don't you think," she said to her father, "that everything would go just as well if you came home with me now and took a little rest? You'll feel lots better to-morrow, if you do, and there's a to-morrow coming, you know. It isn't likely that anything more will happen tonight, is it?"

"I'm afraid it is," said McNally. "You see we think Weeks is coming down the line now, with a trainful of armed men, and he may force us into a fight before morning."

"I see," said Katherine. "That is, when his army meets the one you sent up the line this afternoon."

Porter moved his head free from her hands and asked sharply,--

"What do you know about that, dear?"

"Just what Senator Jones told me," she answered. "He got off the train at Sawyerville and drove over to the Club to telephone."

"Do you know which Senator Jones it was?" asked McNally. "Was it the one they call 'Sporty'?"

"Yes," laughed Katherine; "I'm very sure it was that one."

McNally turned quickly to Porter. "He's got it in for your people, hasn't he?"

"Yes," the other answered; "but he can't do much harm. n.o.body pays any attention to him. Do you know, Katherine, whether his telephoning had anything to do with us?"

"I'll tell you everything I know about it," she said, and she recounted what she knew of the doings of the Senator on that afternoon.

"Is that bad news?" she asked, when she had finished.

"We can hardly tell till we see what happens next," said McNally.

Katherine seated herself in the chair McNally had placed for her, and listened while her father and McNally talked over their plans and speculated upon the probable import of the messages which kept coming in.

There was no attempt to keep Katherine in the dark as to what their plans were, and for the time she had given up looking at the perplexing aspects of the situation, and was enjoying the action and excitement of it. But as the clock ticked off one hour and then another, she noted her father's increasing weariness, and she determined to make another attempt to get him home, where he could, at least, have a few hours' rest.

She rose, and walking around behind him, as she had done before, she clasped her hands over his eyes, and said:--

"You're completely worn out, dad. Please come home. I don't believe anything is going to happen after all."

Porter sighed wearily; but he said, "My dear, if Jim Weeks is coming down the line, something is sure to happen."

"Do you think he's on the train himself?" she asked.

McNally looked up quickly. It was not the question, but something that the question suggested to him, that made him say:--

"Probably not. We think young West is in charge of the gang."

Katherine's hands were still clasped over her father's eyes, and McNally took the opportunity this afforded him to accompany his words with a meaning look that was insolent in its intentness. In spite of herself Katherine felt the blood mounting into her cheeks and forehead, and McNally, seeing the blush, made no effort to conceal his smile. Katherine did not flinch from his gaze, but returned it squarely. Dropping her hands to her father's shoulders, she said steadily:--

"I suppose he is on the train. He likes that sort of thing. Of course Mr.

McNally will lead our forlorn hope when it starts out."

She smiled as she said it, for he winced under the thrust.

He rose hurriedly, and as he moved toward the door he spoke to Porter.

"I've got some business to attend to with Wilkins. I'll be back soon."

When he had left the room Porter turned to Katherine.

"You'd better go home now. I can't go until we know what is going on out on the road. I'll come as soon as I can, but you must go now."

He had spoken gently, but with a finality that left Katherine no hope of persuading him. He took up her cloak and threw it over her shoulders, and kissed her.

"Good night. I'll come along by and by."

"If you don't, I'll come back after you."

Without waiting to hear her father's dissent, which she knew would follow this declaration, she fled from the room and down the steps to her carriage.