Quick promotion
followed, until, at the end of ten years, he became himself a power in
the railroad world. Shrewd deals in Wall Street had already brought
him wealth, and the age of thirty-eight found him in control of half a
dozen systems, his fortune already estimated at several millions, and
his name in the railroad world one to conjure with, not only in Wall
Street, but from New York to Frisco.
Irritated at his companion's silence, Stafford repeated more loudly:
"Do you hear? I'm going to cut it out!"
At last Hadley, his ire roused, looked up.
"Look here, Bob," he exclaimed impatiently, "you make me tired. You're
a game sport, I don't think. It wasn't Maude's little party that
knocked you out." Pointing significantly to the empty bottles of
champagne on the side tables, he went on: "That's what did you up. Why
did you soak yourself with champagne when you got home? Do you know
you got away with two quarts of the stuff?"
Stafford passed a hand over his burning brow.
"The deuce I did! I don't remember. I must have been drunk when I got
home. I took the 'fizz' to sober up on. Why did you let me?"
"Let you?" echoed Hadley scornfully. "Is there any man alive capable
of keeping you from the bottle when you've got a thirst on?"
"Yes," admitted Stafford contritely, "I recall that I was d--d
thirsty."
"And instead of drinking ice water, you rang for champagne. You're a
nice kind of fellow to moralize--you are!"
Rising from the table, Hadley yawned, stretched himself, and,
sauntering over to a window, stood looking out upon the busy city
below.
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