s,
that though so young, his forehead was not only scarred and lined, but
round his eyes and about his mouth it was puckered and wrinkled to a
most extraordinary degree. Archy felt a great curiosity about him,
but was not long left in doubt, for Mrs. Falkoner took care to make
her visitor known to the young gentleman as her youngest half brother
and an engine-driver on the main line.

A remarkably quiet man did John Stocks seem in regard to general
conversation; he said very little about the weather, and less about
things going on in the great world, and anything he did say on these
topics had almost to be coaxed out of him. However, he evidently took
great delight in giving all the family news, even to the most minute
particular.

"Of course you've heard," he said, warming one hand at the fire, "that
Bob's come home from America. Then that old Thompson has given up the
shop."

"Yes; so I heard," said Mrs. Falkoner, pouring out another cup of tea,
not appearing to take very great interest in them. "No accidents on
your line lately, I hope."

"Not much," was the answer, and he again went back to the family news.
"Jenny's got a baby," he said, suddenly, with great glee, as if this
piece of news was far before any other.

This intelligence at least was news to Mrs. Falkoner, and she listened
to all he had to say about it with great interest.

But when Mrs. Falkoner was called away for a few minutes, it became
necessary for Archy to entertain the visitor till her return.

Of course Archy had many questions to put about the railway and the
engines, and dangers and catastrophes. John was excessively civil, and
on this subject was full of intelligence; but when he was asked if his
own engine had broken down in the snow, he became quite horrified, if
not indignant.

"What, master, broke down?" he said. "Not a bit o't. I'd back the old
Bison against a drift twice as heavy. But, d'ye see, when you comes
and finds an engine and seven wagons o' minerals, and another engine,
and wagons besides that all ahead o' ye, and stuck fast, why, I says,
ye must give in. There ain't no use expecting yer engine to drive
_through_ 'em, so must lie by till all's cleared, which won't be for
five hours at least."

"How is it that the line's blocked up now?" asked Archy. "There has
been no more snow all day."

"Ay, that's true, master," said the engine-driver. "But d'ye see, a
mile from the Junction there's a bit of heavy cutting, with