boy, and listened with
great relish to the excited father and excited son. It was not hard to
understand Georgie's amazement and anger at finding Soda-Water Sal
behind three cars of coal half-way between stations on the main line and
on his time--and that the fastest time on the division. But what amused
Burns most was to see the imperturbable old Dad pitching into his boy
with as much spirit as the young man himself showed.

It was because both men were scared out of their wits; scared over their
narrow escape from a frightful wreck; from having each killed the other,
maybe--the son the father, and the father the son.

For brave men do get scared; don't believe anything else. But between
the fright of a coward and the fright of a brave man there is this
difference: the coward's scare is apparent before the danger, that of
the brave man after it has passed; and Burns laughed with a tremendous
mirth, "at th' two o' thim a-jawin'," as he expressed it.

No man on the West End could turn on his pins quicker than Georgie
Sinclair, though, if his hastiness misled him. When it all came clear he
climbed into the old cab--the cab he himself had once gone against death
in--and with stumbling words tried to thank the tall Irishman, who still
laughed in the excitement of having won.

And when Neighbor next day, thoughtful and taciturn, heard it all, he
very carefully looked Soda-Water Sal all over again.

"Dad," said he, when the boys got through telling it for the last time,
"she's a better machine than I thought she was."

"There isn't a better pulling your coaches," maintained Dad Sinclair,
stoutly.

"I'll put her on the main line, Dad, and give you the 168 for the
cut-off. Hm?"

"The 168 will suit me, Neighbor; any old tub--eh, Foley?" said Dad,
turning to the cheeky engineer, who had come up in time to hear most of
the talk. The old fellow had not forgotten Foley's sneer at Soda-Water
Sal when he rechristened her. But Foley, too, had changed his mind, and
was ready to give in.

"That's quite right, Dad," he acknowledged. "You can get more out of any
old tub on the division than the rest of us fellows can get out of a
Baldwin consolidated. I mean it, too. It's the best thing I ever heard
of. What are you going to do for Burns, Neighbor?" asked Foley, with his
usual assurance.

"I was thinking I would give him Soda-Water Sal, and put him on the
right side of the cab for a freight run. I reckon he earned it last
nigh