Six thousand eight
hundred dollars--every cent he had--did George thus
invest. Then he went himself to the trustees of the
first mortgage, to the trustees of the second, and to the
trustees of the third, and told them what he had done.
Now it is personal presence that moves the world.
Dear Orcutt has found that out since, if he did not know
it before. The trustees who would have sniffed had
George written to them, turned round from their desks,
and begged him to take a chair, when he came to talk with
them. Had he put every penny he was worth into that
stock? Then it was worth something which they did not
know of, for George Orcutt was no fool about railroads.
The man who bridged the Lower Rapidan when a freshet was
running was no fool.
"What were his plans?"
George did not tell--no, not to lordly trustees--what
his plans were. He had plans, but he kept them to
himself. All he told them was that he had plans. On
those plans he had staked his all. Now, would they or
would they not agree to put him in charge of the running
of that road, for twelve months, on a nominal salary?
The superintendent they had had was a rascal. He had
proved that by running away. They knew that George was
not a rascal. He knew that he could make this road pay
expenses, pay bond-holders, and pay a dividend,--a thing
no one else had dreamed of for twenty years.
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