n with
yer damn ol' railroad--"

"Come now, Billy," pleaded the foreman, "this is an opportunity--"

"Billy! Month ago Stonaker's nigger threw me down the steps."

"Give 'm a drink," said the foreman, and the bar-keeper set out two
glasses and a large red bottle. While the foreman's back was turned and
the bar-man waited upon another customer, Billy did the honors. He
filled both glasses and had emptied one when the foreman, having
unearthed a quarter, turned and remarked to the liquor man that he did
not drink. The man was in the act of removing the glass when Billy
grabbed it, and with a quick crook of his elbow pitched the whiskey down
his neck.

"Now will you go and eat?"

"Naw--go t' work," said Greene, hitching up his trousers.

Off they went together, but at every saloon (and there are dozens of
them in Chicago), the new engineer of the Pacific express insisted upon
drinking. By hard coaxing the foreman had succeeded in passing three or
four of them when they were met by a couple of strikers.

"Hello Billy," said one of the men. "Where you goin'?"

"Goin' t' take me run out," said Greene, with another hitch.

"Now you fellows break away," said the foreman, for the strikers had
turned and were walking with the others.

"Reckon you don't own the sidewalk, do you?" said one of the men, and
the foreman was silent.

"Didn't think you'd shake us like this Billy," began the striker. "We
intended to take you into the order to-day an' end up with a good big
blow-out to-night. It's all right Billy. You go out on your run and
when you get in come round to the Pacific an' we'll square you with the
boys."

"An' we'll have a bowl together, eh?" said Billy, for the liquor was
beginning to make him happy.

The foreman was white with rage, but he was powerless.

"You bet we will, Billy," said the man who had done the talking.

"Hur--what's this, boss?"

"Come along now," urged the foreman, tugging at Billy's arm.

"Never run by a tank," said Billy, setting the air and coming to a dead
stall at the open door of a beer saloon. The silent striker had entered
the saloon, the other paused in the door, looked back, nodded and asked:
"Have something, Billy, b'fore you go?"

"Will I?" cried Billy, as he twisted from the foreman's grasp.

"Police--here--officer!" cried the foreman, and when the copper came he
found Billy just swallowing his second straight.

"Here," said the foreman, excitedly, "I want you to arre