The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-02-06


 stranger, but he had evaded the re- sponsibiIity. The game immediately absorbed him.
 Its nice here" repeated the young fellow, leading the way. They were followed by a few idle glances.
 Rlckard looked with approval at the tan slim figure which was assuming the courtesy of the towns. The fine handsome face was almost too giriish, the muscles of the mouth too sensitive yet for manly beauty, but he liked the type. 1.-the as young desert-reared Indian, his manner and carriage told of a careful home and rigid school dis. cipline.
 He was ushered into a large cool room. The furnishings he inventoried : a few stiff chairs, long table and a typewriter desk, closed for the Sab. bath.
 "The stenographer's room" an. nounced the lad superfluously.
 Whose stenographer"
 General property now. Everyone has a right to use her time. She used to be Hardin's, the general managers. She Is his still, in way. But Ogilvie keeps her busy most of the time"
 Rlckard had not heard of Ogilvie. He made a mental register.
 "When did Hardin go out?" He knew the date himself. He expected the answer would trail wisps of other information. He had a very active GU. riosity about Hardin. The mans fail ures had been spectacular.
 The young fellow was thinking aloud. "The dam went November 29th. Hardin was given a decent in. terval to resign. Of course he was fired. It was an outrage" He re membered that he was speaking to a stranger and broke off suddenly. Rick. ard did not question him. He made another note. Why was it an outrage or why did 1t appear so? In perspec. tive, from the Mexican barranca, where he had been at the time, the failure of that dam had been another bar sinister against Hardin.
 T see that you are from the Univer- sity of Californian Rickard said, and nodded at the pin of gold and blue enamel.
 Out for a year." glowed the lad Dad wanted me to get some real stuff in my head. He said the Colorado would give me more lessons-more real knowledge in a year than I'd get in six at college. I kicked up an awful row"
 The older man smiled. "Of course You don't want to go back now'
 The boy made wry face. He ex- poets me to go back in August. Says I must"
 You did not tell me your name,' , was suggested.
 "MacLean, George MacLean," said the young man rather consciously. Il was a good deal to live up to. He al. ways felt the appraisement which fol | lowed that admission. George Mac Lean, elder, was known among the ! railroad circles to be a man of iron one of the strongest of the heads oi the Overland Pacific system. He was not the sort of man son could speak lightly of disobeying.
 "Of course everyone calls me Jun. for"
 q guess you'll go back if he wants you to-" smiled Rickard. | hY7t hot xs would beH' exclaimed the son of the man of iron. "T0 throw me out of college-I was daffy to finish with my class, and to get me here, to get me in, terested-and then after I've lost my place to pull me back. Why, there are things happening every day that are g liberal education. They are only jus1 beginning to understand what they are bucking up against. The Colorado's an unknown quantity; even old engi neers are right up against 1t. There are new problems coming up every day. The Indians call her a yellow dragon, but she's a tricky woman she's an eel; she's giving us sums tt break our teeth on."
 "Who has the next roomT
 "Used to be the general managers I Ogilvie uses it now"
 And who did you say was Ogil vieY' They turned back into th, room.
 You can go in. He's not here. H, is the new auditor, an expert account ant from Los Angeles. Put in by tn o. P. when it assumed control las year. He used to come down ono a month. After Hardin went out h. came down to stay"
 Whose say-so?"
 q don't know. The accounts wer rotten, that's no office secret. Tn world knows that Hardin is blame' for it. It isn't fair. Look at Sather' stone palace in Los Angeles. Look a Hardin's tent, his shabby clothes"
 'Td like to meet Ogilvie," observes the general manager.
 (Cop+{7na1