Leland raised his hand for silence and said loudly: ‘Ladies and gentlemen of Sacramento … and visitors, surreptitious or otherwise …’ at which there was general mocking laughter. ‘I shall not speak for long, because of the vagaries of the weather … but I do wish to say that this day marks a practical beginning to the greatest social and mechanical enterprise ever undertaken by man … This locomotive is only the first of a whole fleet of glittering iron horses which will draw passengers and valuable freight into and out of this city of Sacramento … and later into San Francisco … these few feet of track are only the first of miles of shining rails which will span deserts, canyons, mountains, and rivers …’

Leland went on for ten minutes, and Collis listened in silence. The fine rain ran down his face and made it look as if he were crying. Actually, he was thinking about Leland’s boasts of building up a fleet of trains, and of crossing the West with track. They were fine boasts, but the truth was that the war had led to massive inflation and chronic shortages. The small locomotive which chuffed and steamed in front of them now had cost him $13,688 — compared with the pre-war price of a big ten-wheeler of $10,000. A ton of rails which had previously cost $60 had risen to well over $112, and that was the price he had to pay in Boston. Freight charges around Cape Horn were extra, and punishingly high.

Shovels, wheelbarrows, picks, rail spikes, explosives, and signalling equipment were all in desperately short supply, and there was the ever-present risk that they would be requisitioned by the army for use against the Confederacy.

Collis had tried only yesterday to sell a block of S.P. securities to a syndicate of Sacramento businessmen; but after ‘due discussion’ they had decided to ‘wait and see how far the railroad goes.’ If every potential investor reacted the same way, Collis doubted if the railroad would stretch any further than Roseville, only a few miles outside of Sacramento. Going over the company accounts the previous night, he had estimated it would cost them over $12 million just to extend the tracks a good buggy ride out of town. Leland’s $600,000 would pay for little more than a couple of miles of track.

Charles had blown out his cheeks in resignation and said, ‘We’re going to have to work damned hard, that’s all, Collis. If people are hesitant about investing, we’re just going to have to peel off our coats, jump off the dock, and say, “Come on, boys.”’

Collis had closed the accounts. ‘Right now,’ he had told Charles, ‘I’m tempted to take a clean shirt and get out for good.’

Theodore had said nothing at all.

Leland now stood with one hand raised, and the other clutching his lapel. This was a recognisable sign to anybody who had been obliged to suffer his oratory before that he was reaching the climax of his speech, and that he would mercifully soon be finished.