gh--I mean if I had my own
way--I'd train for expert on everything from golf to football."

"I'm pretty strong in that direction myself," said Ralph, "but a
fellow has to hustle for something to eat."

"I know what that means," declared Clark. "Had to help the family by
peddling papers--."

Clark paused and flushed. Ralph wondered at the singular break his
visitor had made. A diversion covered the embarassment of the young
stranger and caused Ralph to momentarily forget the incident. Fogg had
swung back the water spout, set the tender cover, and climbed down
into the cab. Then he took the side light signals and went around to
the pilot. No. 999 carried two flags there, now to be replaced by
lanterns. Fogg came back to the cab rolling up the flags.

"All right," he announced ungraciously, and hustled Clark to one side
without ceremony as the latter abandoned his seat. Ralph gave the
starting signal and Clark edged back in the tender out of the way.

The young engineer took a good look at his fireman. The latter was
muddled, it was plain to see that, but he went about his duties with a
mechanical routine born from long experience. Only once did he lurch
towards Ralph and speak to him, or rather hiss out the words.

"You'll settle with me for your impudence yet, young fellow. You're a
high and mighty, you are, breaking the rules giving your friends a
free ride."

Ralph did not reply. One anxiety kept him devoted to his work--to lose
no time. A glance at the clock and schedule showed a ten minutes'
loss, but defective or experimental firing on a new locomotive had
been responsible for that, and he counted on making a spurt, once
beyond Plympton.

Marvin Clark knew his place, and Ralph liked him for keeping it. The
young fellow watched everything going on in the cab in a shrewd,
interested fashion, but he neither got in the way of the cross-grained
Fogg, nor pestered Ralph with questions.

Plympton was less than five miles ahead just as dusk began to fall.
Ralph noticed that his fireman rustled about with a good deal of
unnecessary activity. He would fire up to the limit, as if working off
some of his vengefulness and malice. Then he went out on the running
board, for no earthly reason that Ralph could see, and he made himself
generally so conspicuous that young Clark leaned over and said to
Ralph.

"What's the matter with your fireman, anyhow--that is, besides that
load he's got aboard?"

"Oh, he has his cros