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.

‘My friends,’ he said, ‘from this day forth, California and Sacramento can do nothing but prosper, for the Sierra Pacific Railroad will in one adventurous stroke bring the peoples of America, East and West, in almost instant communication with each other, and out of that can come nothing but happier understanding, flourishing commerce, and human progress towards that ideal society which is Paradise on Earth.’

There was a light patter of applause, and then Leland said, ‘I name this locomotive the Governor McCormick, and I ask the Lord to bless her endeavours and to keep safe all those who travel with her.’

Collis glanced at Jane. She had been promised that the locomotive would be christened for her; but at the last moment, Leland had declared that it would not be ‘protocol’ for the governor of California to have a locomotive named for his wife. It would smack of nepotism, or something like that; and in any case he was president of the railroad. Collis hadn’t argued about it. The locomotive would be too small for long-distance hauls, and would probably end up ingloriously shunting freight cars around, and that struck Collis as a fitting finish for anything called the Governor McCormick.

The rain slicked the locomotive’s boiler, and the wind blew the dark smoke out of its funnel and across the street. A small silver band, which had been sheltering in a striped marquee, struck up with ‘Clear the Way!’ and Leland joined in, in a wavering baritone.