The founder of the illustrious Van Dorn Detective Agency was a large, balding, well-dressed man in his forties who looked more like a prosperous business traveler than the scourge of the underworld. He appeared convivial, with a strong Roman nose, a ready smile slightly tempered by a hint of Irish melancholy in his eyes, and splendid red burnsides that descended to an even more splendid red beard. As he approached Hennessy's special, the sound of ragtime music playing on a gramophone elicited a nod of heartfelt relief. He recognized the lively, yearning melody of Scott Joplin's brand-new "Search-Light Rag," and the music told him that Hennessy's daughter Lillian was nearby. The cantankerous president of the Southern Pacific Railroad was a mite easier to handle when she was around.

He paused on the platform, sensing a rush from within the car. Here came Hennessy, thrusting the mayor of Spokane out the door. "Get off my train! Hennessyville will never be annexed into your incorporated city. I will not have my rail yard on Spokane's tax rolls!"

To Van Dorn, he snapped, "Took your time getting here."

Van Dorn returned Hennessy's brusqueness with a warm smile. His strong white teeth blazed in his nest of red whiskers as he enveloped the small man's hand in his, booming affably, "I was in Chicago, and you were all over the map. You're looking well, Osgood, if a little splenetic. How is the beauteous Lillian?" he asked, as Hennessy ushered him aboard.

"Still more trouble than a carload of Eye-talians."

"Here she is, now! My, my, how you've grown, young lady, I haven't seen you since--"

"Since New York, when father hired you to return me to Miss Porter's School?"

"No," Van Dorn corrected. "I believe the last time was when we bailed you out of jail in Boston following a suffragette parade that got out of hand."

"Lillian!" said Hennessy. "I want notes of this meeting typed up and attached to a contract to hire the Van Dorn Agency."

The mischievous light in her pale blue eyes was extinguished by a steady gaze that was suddenly all business. "The contract is ready to be signed, Father."

"Joe, I assume you know about these attacks."

"I understand," Van Dorn said noncommittally, "that horrific accidents bedevil the Southern Pacific's construction of an express line through the Cascades. You've had workmen killed, as well as several innocent rail passengers. "

"They can't all be accidents." Hennessy retorted sternly. "Someone's doing his damnedest to wreck this railroad. I'm hiring your outfit to hunt down the saboteurs, whether anarchists, foreigners, or strikers. Shoot 'em, hang 'em, do what you have to do, but stop them dead."

"The instant you telegraphed, I assigned my best operative to the case. If the situation appears as you suspect, I will appoint him chief investigator."

"No!" said Hennessy. "I want you in charge, Joe. Personally in charge."

"Isaac Bell is my best man. I only wish I had possessed his talents when I was his age."