BOYS’ LIFE
THE LOST EXPRESS
JOHN FLETCHER, President of the Sunset line, which, until the mammoth railway syndicates absorbed it, had its headquarters in Chicago, and was of no small importance, was faced by a most unpleasant task.
He sat in his private office, a bare, business-like room. In a chair in front of him lounged his nephew, Jack Fletcher, his only brother's eldest son. The old man looked grave and worried, for he had come to the conclusion that this light-hearted, good-looking youngster was totally unfitted for railway work, and that, therefore, he must allow no sentiment to interfere with his resolution of turning him out of the office.
He had intended that Jack Fletcher should in time succeed him in the office of president of the line, and with that in view had made him his assistant, and looked to him to assiduously make himself acquainted with the methods of governing a couple of thousand miles of railway.
He had been disappointed in the lad, and was now telling him so, seizing as a favorable moment that at which his nephew had asked him for a holiday.
"A holiday!" the old man almost shouted. "How and when have you earned a holiday?"
"Well," said Jack, looking perplexed: "I've been at business—"
"Business!" roared the president. "Why, you don't know what business means! I tell you, young man, it doesn't mean sitting in front of that desk all day long scribbling doggerel on your blotting paper."
"Precious little else you give me to do," said Jack. "I can scarcely learn the business by watching you. You have not tried me properly; you haven't given me any responsibility."
For very good reasons," muttered the old man. "You are only just about equal to a responsibility of selecting the pattern of your waistcoats."
"Well, anyhow, uncle, I've tried my best; don't be too rough on me. Look here, I want this holiday; I've arranged to go hunting with Kenneth Webster. When I come back I promise you to make up for it."
"Take your holiday, then," exclaimed John Fletcher. "It'll be your last from this office, for I won't trouble you to come back here."
Jack rose to his feet, looking very white.
"Now look here, Jack," said the old man, in a more kindly voice. "Come and see me when you come back, perhaps I can help you in some other way."
Jack left his uncle's private room feeling very sore, a feeling which was not entirely soothed by the fact that as he was leaving the building a messenger from his uncle overtook him and handed him an envelope which he found contained a cheque for three hundred dollars.
Relying on obtaining his holiday Jack had arranged to meet Kenneth Webster at the terminus of the Sunset line, whence they intended to travel by the famous "Sunset Express" to Denver as the first stage of a hunting expedition in the Rockies.
Picking up his bag at his lodgings Jack got to the railway station just about fifteen minutes before the express started. He met Kenneth at the barrier, and together they proceeded to the Pullman, where a smiling porter received them and relieved them of their bags. Standing chatting with Webster at the entrance to the Pullman Jack watched the other passengers on the platform with a careless eye, until he suddenly became interested in two men who, deep in earnest conversation, were walking slowly in his direction. The taller of these he recognized as Colonel Carson, an imposing old man with a keen, clean-shaven face and flowing gray hair crowned by a sombrero. The other was a small, lean, shifty-eyed lawyer, who had once been connected with his uncle's company.
Jack was rather surprised to see these two men on the platform, especially at seeing them together. Colonel Carson held the controlling interest in the Kansas Central Company, a keen rival to the Sunset line. He did not know that the lawyer, Aylward, had recently been retained by the Kansas Central as its legal adviser.
Scarcely noticing what Kenneth Webster was talking about, Jack recalled that some few years before there had been very keen competition between the Kansas Central and Sunset lines for powers to open up a branch line which in itself was of little importance, but would eventually be of immense value to the railway company controlling it, as it tapped an entirely new territory of vast but undeveloped resources. In this contest the Sunset had been victorious. This line had secured the coveted powers, on condition that the branch line was built within three years and a passenger train run over it. The Sunset company fulfilled the law to the very letter, although they anticipated the time limit. They built the line in two years and ran a passenger train over it. One only. That was what they had agreed to do, and all they intended to do until the new territory developed suffi-
