He hurried out, dove into an elevator, and was shot down to the street.
He was lucky enough to find a taxi at the curb.
"Grand Central," he told the driver. "I've got five dollars that
says you can beat the Subway express and land me in season for the
ten-o'clock limited for Boston."
As soon as it became evident to Mr. Fogg that his driver had seen his
duty and was going to do it, traffic squad be blowed, the promoter
settled back, and his thoughts began to revolve faster than the taxi's
wheels.
"It's going to be like the mining-camp 'lulu hand,'" was his mental
preface to his plans. "It can be played only once in a sitting-in; it
has got to be backed with good bluff, but it's a peach when it works.
And what am I a promoter for? What have I studied foreign corporation
laws for?"
Mr. Fogg took off his hat and mopped his bald spot, wrinkling his
eyelids in deep reflection.
"The idea is," he mused, "I'm a candidate for the presidency of the Vose
line at to-morrow's meeting. But I haven't been elected yet!"
However, Mr. Fogg's preliminary sniffing at the affairs of the Vose line
had informed him where he could pick up at least ten scattered shares of
their stock. He figured that before midnight he would have them in his
possession. As to the next day and the next steps, well, the nerve of a
real American plunger clings to life until the sunset of all hopes, even
as the snake's tail, though the serpent's head be bruised beyond repair,
is supposed to wriggle until sunset.
He despatched a telegram at New Haven. He received a reply at
Providence, and he read it and felt like a gambler who has drawn a
card to fill his bobtail hand. When a design is brazen and the game is
largely a bluff, plain, lucky chance must be appealed to.
The telegram had been addressed to Attorney Sawyer Franklin, in a Maine
city. It had requested an appointment with Mr. Franklin on the following
morning.
The reply had stated that Mr. Franklin was critically ill in a hospital,
but that all matters of business would be attended to by his office
force, as far as was possible.
Attorney Sawyer Franklin, as Mr. Fogg, of course, was fully aware, was
clerk of the Vose line corporation, organized according to the Maine
law as a "foreign corporation," under the more liberal regulations which
have attracted so many metropolitan promoters into the states of Maine
and New Jersey.