“Beg pardon, Mr. Boise,” he interjected into the peaceful conversational flow of the older men.  “Did I understand you to say that the S. W. & P. had secured a controlling interest in the B. F. & N. W.?”

Constance looked at Johnny in dismay.  If he, too, intended to talk in nothing but the oral sign language, she had a wild idea of joining the frivolous crowd on the afterdeck, where at least there was laughter.

Mr. Boise looked at Johnny from under shaggy eyebrows.

“It’s not generally known,” he stated, struggling between a desire to be pleasant to a fellow guest and a regret that he had fancied Johnny absorbed too much in Constance to be interested in sotto voce affairs.

“That’s what that territory needs,” Johnny briskly commented.  “As long as the S. W. & P. and the B. F. & N. W. were scrapping, the Sancho Hills Basin had as good service with burros.”

Both Boise and Courtney laughed.

“Be careful, Johnny,” warned Courtney.  “Mr. Boise is president of the S. W. & P., and is now also virtually president of the B. F. & N. W.”

Constance sighed, but stuck gamely to her post.  After all Johnny was having a good time, and he actually seemed to understand what they were talking about.  There was no question that Johnny was a smart man!

“I’m glad he is president of both,” said Johnny, “for with consolidation things will start humming out there.”

“Thank you,” laughed Boise, no longer regarding Johnny as an impertinent interloper.  “That’s what we hope to do.”

“The first thing you’ll start will be a cut right across the Sancho Hills Basin, which will shorten your haul to Puget Sound by five hundred miles and open up a lot of rich new land.”

Boise studied him with contracted brows.

“That’s a good guess,” he admitted.  “You seem to know a lot about that country.”

“I own some land out there,” grinned Johnny.  “Your best route will be from Marble Bluffs to Sage City, and from there straight across to Salt Pool, then up along the Buffalo Canon to Silver Ledge and on to the main line.”

“That’s one of the three routes I’ve been worrying over,” agreed Boise, admiring Johnny’s frankness.  “I promised to wire my chief engineer to-morrow which one to put through.”

Constance noticed a slight squaring of Johnny’s lower lip, and she felt leaping within her a sudden intense interest in S. W. & P. and B. F. & N. W.

“What are the others?” asked Johnny.

Mr. Boise promptly drew a canvas-backed map from his pocket.  Mr. Courtney reached for a folding deck chair.  Constance helped Mr. Boise spread out the map.  Johnny weighted down the corners with a cigar-case, a watch, a pocket-knife and a silver dollar.

“The favorite route at present,” pointed out Boise, “is from Marble Bluffs round by Lariat Center, across to Buffalo Canyon and up to Silver Ledge.  The other one is right through Eagle Pass.”