y were sitting out the early half of the perfect
summer night, the card-tables having been abandoned when Benson had
brought word of the tacit armistice. There was an unoccupied camp-chair,
and Miss Brewster pointed it out to the superintendent.

"Climb over and sit with us, Howard," she said, hospitably. "You know
you haven't a thing in the world to do."

Lidgerwood swung himself over the railing, and took the proffered chair.

"You are right; I haven't very much to do just now," he admitted.

"Has your strike materialized yet?" she asked.

"No; it isn't due until midnight."

"I don't believe there is going to be any."

"Don't you? I wish I might share your incredulity--with reason."

Miss Doty and the others were talking about the curious blending of the
moonlight with the masthead electrics, and the two in the shadowed
corner of the deep platform were temporarily ignored. Miss Brewster took
advantage of the momentary isolation to say, "Confess that you were a
little bit over-wrought this afternoon when you wanted to send us away:
weren't you?"

"I only hope that the outcome will prove that I was," he rejoined
patiently.

"You still believe there will be trouble?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm afraid you are still overwrought," she countered lightly.
"Why, the very atmosphere of this beautiful night breathes peace."

Before he could reply, a man came up to the platform railing, touched
his cap, and said, "Is Mr. Lidgerwood here?"

Lidgerwood answered in person, crossing to the railing to hear Judson's
latest report, which was given in hoarse whispers. Miss Brewster could
distinguish no word of it, but she heard Lidgerwood's reply. "Tell
Benson and Dawson, and say that the engine I ordered had better be sent
up at once."

When Lidgerwood had resumed his chair he was promptly put upon the
question rack of Miss Eleanor's curiosity.

"Was that one of your scouts?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Did he come to tell you that there wasn't going to be any strike?"

"No."

"How lucidly communicative you are! Can't you see that I am fairly
stifling with curiosity?"

"I'm sorry, but you shall not have the chance to say that I was
overwrought twice in the same half-day."

"Howard! Don't be little and spiteful. I'll eat humble pie and call
myself hard names, if you insist; only--gracious goodness! is that
engine going to smash into our car?"

The anxious query hinged itself upon the approach of a big,
eight-wheeled passe