"I dunno what's up," he said, "but whatever it was, the string's broke.
Old Dave Sage-Brush's son has borrowed him an automobile, and gone back
to town on his own hook. Guess you'd better call up the division
despatcher and tell him the broken-wire gag didn't work. Get a move on.
We hain't got nothin' to stay here for now."
Blount had a very pleasant drive across country, with no mishap worse
than a blown-out tire and a little carbureter trouble. Being a motorist
of parts, neither the accident nor the needed readjustment detained him
very long, and by the middle of the afternoon he was racing down the
smooth northern road, with the spires and tall buildings of the capital
fairly in sight.
Not to let gratitude lag too far behind the service rendered, he drove
Blatchford's car to the garage nearest the freight station, left
instructions to have it shipped back to Lewiston by the first train, and
promptly went in search of Gantry. The traffic manager was not in his
office, but Blount found him at the Railway Club.
"Just a word, Dick," he began, when he had overtaken his man pointing
for the buffet. "Kittredge put up a job on me, and I think you helped
him. I had to borrow an automobile to come back in from Lewiston. It's
down at the Central Garage, and I have given Bankston, the garage man,
orders to ship it back to Mr.
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