ng working-hours or after--when the outside door was
flung open and a man's heavy tread came through the office and to
their sleeping-room.

"That'll be Truxton," Garton said. "Wants to see you, I guess."

The heavy tread came on through the office, and the door to Garton's
room was flung open with as little ceremony as the front door had
been. In the light of a kerosene-lamp upon the chair near his cot
Conniston saw a short, squat, heavy-set man of perhaps forty-five,
very broad across the forehead, very salient-jawed, his mustache
short-cropped and grizzled, his mouth large and firm-lipped, his eyes
steady and keen as they turned swiftly upon Conniston from under
shaggy, tangled, iron-gray brows. The man had nodded curtly toward
Tommy Garton, and then stood still in the doorway regarding young
Conniston intently.

"You're Conniston."

It was a positive statement rather than a question, but Conniston
answered as he sat up on the edge of his cot:

"Yes. I'm Conniston."

"All right." Truxton removed the lamp from the one chair in the room,
placed it upon the window-sill, and sat down, pulling the chair around
so that he faced Conniston. "You're goin' to work with me in the
mornin'. Now, what do you know?"

His manner was abrupt, his voice curt. Conniston felt a trifle ill at
ease under the man's piercing gaze, which seemed to be measuring him.

"Not a great deal, I'm afraid. You see, I--"

"I thought you were an engineer?"

"I am--after a fashion. Graduate of Yale--"

"Ever had any actual, practical experience?"

"Only field work in college."

"Ever had any experience handlin' men? Ever bossed a gang of men?"

"No."

"Ever do any kind of construction work?"

"In college--"

"Forget what you did with a four-eyed professor standin' over you!
Ever build a bridge or a grade or a dam or a railroad?"

"No." Conniston answered shortly, half angrily.

"Then," grunted Truxton, plainly disgusted, "I'd like to know what the
Old Man meant by sendin' you over here! I can't be bothered teachin'
college boys how to do things. What I need an' need bad is an engineer
that can do his part of the day's work."

"Look here!" cried Conniston, hotly. "We all have to begin some time,
don't we? You had your first job, didn't you? And I'll bet you didn't
fall down on it, either! It's up to you. If you think I'm no good, all
right. If you give me my work to do I'll do it."

"It _ain't_ up to me. The Old Man sent you ove