He just talked it over with Baxter and me. This last job
of yours pleased him mightily... and so you go up."

"Go up!... To what?" queried Neale, eagerly.

"Well, that's why he consulted us, I guess," laughed Henney. "You see,
we sort of had to make something to promote you to, for the present."

"Oh, I see! I was wondering what job there could be," replied Neale, and
he laughed, too. "What did the chief say?"

"He said a lot. Figured you'd land at the top if the U. P. is ever
built.... Chief engineer!... Superintendent of maintenance of way!"

"Good Lord!" breathed Neale. "You're not in earnest?"

"Wal, I shore am, as your cowboy pard says," returned Henney. And then
he spoke with real earnestness. "Listen, Neale. Here's the matter in a
nutshell. You will be called upon to run these particular and difficult
surveys, just as yesterday. But no more of the routine for you. Added to
that, you will be sent forward and back, inspecting, figuring. You can
make your headquarters with us or in the construction camps, as suits
your convenience. All this, of course, presently, when we get farther
on. So you will be in a way free--your own boss a good deal of the time.
And fitting yourself for that 'maintenance of way' job. In fact,
the chief said that--he called you Maintenance-of-Way Neale. Well,
I congratulate you. And my advice is keep on as you've begun--go
straight--look out for your wildness and temper.... That's all. Good
night."

Then he went out, leaving Neale speechless.

Neale had many callers that night, and the last was Larry Red King. The
cowboy stooped to enter the tent.

"Wal, how aboot you-all?" he drawled.

"Not so good, Red," replied Neale. "My head's hot and I've got a lot of
pain. I think I'm going to be a little flighty. Would you mind getting
your blankets and staying with me tonight?"

"I reckon I'd be glad," answered King. He put a hand on Neale's face.
"You shore have fever." He left the tent, to return presently with a
roll of blankets and a canteen. Then he awkwardly began to bathe Neale's
face with cold water. There was a flickering camp-fire outside that
threw shadows on the wall of the tent. By its light Neale saw that
King's left hand was bandaged and that he used it clumsily.

"What's wrong with your hand?" he queried.

"I reckon nawthin'."

"Why is it bound up, then?"

"Wal, some one sent thet fool army doctor to me an' he said I had two
busted bones in it."

"He did! I had n