There was no denying the fact that for Osterman, Broderson, Annixter and Derrick, S.Behrman was the railroad.
"Mr.Derrick, good-morning," he cried as he came up.

"Good-morning, Harran.

Glad to see you back, Mr.Derrick." He held out a thick hand.
Magnus, head and shoulders above the other, tall, thin, erect, looked down upon S.Behrman, inclining his head, failing to see his extended hand.
"Good-morning, sir," he observed, and waited for S.Behrman's further speech.
"Well, Mr.Derrick," continued S.Behrman, wiping the back of his neck with his handkerchief, "I saw in the city papers yesterday that our case had gone against you." "I guess it wasn't any great news to YOU," commented Harran, his face scarlet.

"I guess you knew which way Ulsteen was going to jump after your very first interview with him.

You don't like to be surprised in this sort of thing, S.Behrman." "Now, you know better than that, Harran," remonstrated S.Behrman blandly.