said.

When I went over to the round-house and told Neighbor the decision he
said never a word, but he looked a great deal. Neighbor's task was to
supply the motive power. All that we had, uncrippled, was in the
passenger service, because passengers must be moved--must be taken care
of first of all. In order to win a strike you must have public opinion
on your side.

"Nevertheless, Neighbor," said I, after we had talked a while, "we must
move the silk also."

Neighbor studied; then he roared at his foreman.

"Send Bartholomew Mullen here." He spoke with a decision that made me
think the business was done. I had never happened, it is true, to hear
of Bartholomew Mullen in the department of motive power; but the
impression the name gave me was of a monstrous fellow; big as Neighbor,
or old man Sankey, or Dad Hamilton.

"I'll put Bartholomew ahead of it," muttered Neighbor, tightly. A boy
walked into the office.

"Mr. Garten said you wanted to see me, sir," said he, addressing the
master mechanic.

"I do, Bartholomew," responded Neighbor.

The figure in my mind's eye shrunk in a twinkling. Then it occurred to
me that it must be this boy's father who was wanted.

"You have been begging for a chance to take out an engine, Bartholomew,"
began Neighbor, coldly; and I knew it was on.

"Yes, sir."

"You want to get killed, Bartholomew."

Bartholomew smiled, as if the idea was not altogether displeasing.

"How would you like to go pilot to-morrow for McCurdy? You to take the
44 and run as first Seventy-eight. McCurdy will run as second
Seventy-eight."

"I know I could run an engine all right," ventured Bartholomew, as if
Neighbor were the only one taking the chances in giving him an engine.
"I know the track from here to Zanesville. I helped McNeff fire one
week."

"Then go home, and go to bed, and be over here at six o'clock to-morrow
morning. And sleep sound; for it may be your last chance."

It was plain that the master-mechanic hated to do it; it was simply
sheer necessity.

"He's a wiper," mused Neighbor, as Bartholomew walked springily away. "I
took him in here sweeping two years ago. He ought to be firing now, but
the union held him back; that's why he hates them. He knows more about
an engine now than half the lodge. They'd better have let him in," said
the master-mechanic, grimly. "He may be the means of breaking their
backs yet. If I give him an engine and he runs it, I'll never take him
off, un