CHAPTER XXX--THE RIGHT OF WAY
The peculiar announcement of Ralph's host was so grandiloquent, and hismanner so lofty and important, that the young railroader smiled despitehimself.
Certainly Ralph decided the Dover & Springfield Short Line had itsheadquarters in a particularly isolated place, and its presentation ofphysical resources was limited.
"I never heard of that road before," observed Ralph.
"Probably not," answered his host--"you will hear of it, though, andothers, in the near future."
Ralph did not attach much importance to the prediction. He had seen ata glance that Gibson was an erratic individual, his hermit life hadprobably given birth to some visionary ideas, and his railroad, simmereddown to the tangible, had undoubtedly little real foundation outside ofhis own fancies and dreams.
Ralph changed his mind somewhat, however, as he crossed the threshold ofthe door, for he stood in the most remarkable apartment he had everentered.
This was a long, low room with a living space at one end, but thebalance of the place had the unmistakable characteristics of a depot andrailway office combined.
In fact it was the most "railroady" place Ralph had ever seen. Itswalls were rude and rough, its furniture primitive and even grotesque,but everything harmonized with the idea that this was the center of anactual railroad system in operation.
There were benches as if for passengers. In one corner with a gratedwindow was a little partitioned off space labeled "President's Office."Hanging from a strap were a lot of blank baggage checks, on the wallswere all kinds of railroad timetables, and painted on a board runningthe entire width of the room were great glaring black letters on a whitebackground, comprising the announcement: "Dover & Springfield Short LineRailroad."
To complete the presentment, many sheets of heavy manilla paper formedone entire end of the room, and across their surface was traced in redand black paint a zigzag railway line.
One terminal was marked "Dover," the other "Springfield." There weredots for minor stations, crosses for bridges and triangles for watertanks.
Ralph readily comprehended that this was the plan of a railroadright-of-way crossing The Barrens north and south from end to end, andthe big blue square in the center was intended to indicate theheadquarters where he now stood in the presence of the actual andimportant president of the Dover & Springfield Short Line Railroad.
Ralph must have been two full minutes taking in all this, and when hehad concluded his inspection he turned to confront Gibson, whose faceshowed lively satisfaction over the fact that the layout had interestedand visibly impressed his visitor.
"Well," he challenged in a pleased, proud way, "how does it strike you?"
"Why," said Ralph, "to tell the truth, I am somewhat astonished."
"That is quite natural," responded Gibson. "The idea of the world ingeneral of a railroad headquarters is plate glass, mahogany desks andpompous heads of departments, looking wise and spending money. TheShort Line has no capital, so we have to go in modest at the start. Allthe same, we have system, ideas and, what is surer and better than allthat put together, we have the Right of Way."
"The Right of Way?" repeated Ralph, taking in the announcement at itsfull importance.
"Yes, that means what? That under the strictest legal and full stateauthority we have a franchise, empowering us to construct and operate arailway from Dover to Springfield, and vesting in us the sole title to ahundred-foot strip of land clear across The Barrens, with additionaldepot and terminal sites.
"That must be a very valuable acquisition," said Ralph.
"I am not used to talking my business to outsiders," responded Gibson,"and you are one of the very few who have ever been allowed to enterthis place. I admit you for strong personal reasons, and I want toexplain to you what they are."
He sat down on one of the benches and waved Ralph to the one opposite.His mobile face worked, as silently for a minute or two he seemedconcentrating his ideas and choosing his words.
"I am a strange man," he said finally, "probably a crank, and certainlynot a very good man, as my record goes, but circumstances made me what Iam."
A twinge of bitterness came into the tones, and his eyes hardened.
"The beginning of my life," proceeded Gibson, "was honest work as afarmer--the end of it is holding on with bulldog tenacity to all thereis left of the wreck of a fortune. That's the layout here. The ShortLine, no one knows it--no one cares--just yet. But no one can everwrest it from me. Ten years ago, when the Great Northern was projected,your father saw that a road across here was a tactical move, but theinvestors were in a hurry to get a line through to Springfield, anddropped this route. Later the Midland Central cut into Dover. They toonever guessed what a big point they might have made cutting through hereto Springfield. Well, I got possession of the franchise. I had to bidemy time and stay in the dark. To-day, with the Short Line completed, Iwould hold the key to the traffic situation of two States, could demandmy own price from either railroad for it, and they would run up into themillions outbidding each other, for the road getting the Short Linecompletely dominates all transfer passenger and freight business northand south."
"Why, I see that," said Ralph, roused up with keen interest. "Itbecomes a bee-line route, saving twenty or thirty miles' distance, andopens up a new territory."
"You've struck it. Now then, what I want to lead up to isFarrington--Gasper Farrington. You know him?"
"Yes, I know him," assented Ralph emphatically.
"Between my old honest life and the dregs here his figure looms upprominently," resumed Gibson. "Around him has revolved much concerningyour father and myself in the past. Around him will loom upconsiderable concerning you and myself in the future. For this reason Itake you into my confidence--to join issues, to grasp the situation andto move down on the enemy. In a word: Gasper Farrington ruined mychances in life. In another, he robbed your father."
Ralph was becoming intensely interested.
"He robbed my father, you say?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure of that, Mr. Gibson?"
"I am positive of it. I have the proofs. Even without those proofs, myunsupported word would substantiate the charge. The more so, because Ihelped him do it."