In a cupid-encrusted office at No. 32 Nassau St., Manhattan, where Jay Gould used to play financial chess with railroads for queens, hulking old Leonor Fresnel Loree has sat growling into his beard for seven years, trying to thwart a checkmate. Occasionally he would stride over to a railroad map of the U. S. on which a great Loree System was only a dotted line, and stand there cursing softly. Or he would sit slumped behind his desk banging a stack of five-dollar gold pieces from one hand into the other and...
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