The plaintiffs in the right-of-way
case were out of town, and their lawyers had gone to the capital. Blount
saw that he might wait a week without accomplishing anything, hence he
immediately instructed his conductor to get orders for the return.
After having been gone a half-hour or more, the conductor came back to
the service-car to say that the single telegraph-wire connecting
Lewiston with the outer world was down, and that the orders for the
return journey could not be obtained until the telegraph connection was
restored. At that point Blount took matters into his own hands.
There was a mining company having its headquarters in the isolated town,
and Blount had met the manager once in the capital--met him in a social
way, and had been able to show him some little attention. Hiring a
buckboard at the one livery stable in the place, he drove out to the
"Little Mary," and found Blatchford, the friendly manager, smoking a
black clay cutty pipe in his shack office. It did not take Blount over a
minute to renew the pleasant acquaintance, and to state his dilemma.
"I'm hung up here with my special train, the wires are down and I can't
get out," was his statement of the crude fact. "Didn't you tell me that
you owned a motor-car?"
"I did," was the prompt reply. "Want to borrow it?"
"You beat me to it," said Blount, laughing.
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