At any rate, they'll hang you up
in the courts till you die of old age; and as I understand the
matter, you have to have this line running in less than a year, or go
out of business."
Bryce hung his head thoughtfully. "I've been too cocksure," he
muttered presently. "I shouldn't have spent that twelve thousand for
rights of way until I had settled the matter of the franchise."
"Oh, I didn't buy any rights of way--yet," Ogilvy hastened to assure
him. "I've only signed the land-owners up on an agreement to give or
sell me a right of way at the stipulated figures any time within one
year from date. The cost of the surveying gang and my salary and
expenses are all that you are out to date."
"Buck, you're a wonder."
"Not at all. I've merely been through all this before and have
profited by my experience. Now, then, to get back to our muttons.
Will the city council grant you a franchise to enter the city and
jump Pennington's tracks?"
"I'm sure I don't know, Buck. You'll have to ask them--sound them
out. The city council meets Saturday morning."
"They'll meet this evening--in the private diningroom of the Hotel
Sequoia, if I can arrange it," Buck Ogilvy declared emphatically.
"I'm going to have them all up for dinner and talk the matter over.
I'm not exactly aged, Bryce, but I've handled about fifteen city
councils and county boards of supervisors, not to mention Mexican and
Central American governors and presidents, in my day, and I know the
breed from cover to cover.
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