Penfield had been apparently listening avidly to the president's praise
of the dry altitudes as a sure cure for consumption, but now he had his
face in his plate. Ford devoted himself for the moment to the deaf Miss
Van Bruce, and when he turned back to Alicia he was telegraphing with
his eyes for discretion. She understood, and the low-toned tete-a-tete
was not resumed. Later, when they had a moment together in the
dispersion from the breakfast-table, he tried to apologize for what he
was pleased to call his "playing of the baby act." But she reassured him
in a low-spoken word.

"Brother told me--I know more than you give me credit for, Mr. Ford.
Mr. North doesn't like you--he would be glad if you would resign. _You
must not resign!_"

The others, personally-conducted by Mr. Colbrith, were crowding to the
rear platform for an after-breakfast view of the headquarters camp. Ford
and Alicia followed, but without haste.

"You have chanced upon the word, Miss Adair," Ford was saying. "I
decided last night that I should resign."

"No," she objected.

"Yes; I must. Sometime I may tell you why."

"I say you must not. That was the last word in brother's letter; and he
wished me to repeat it to you," she insisted.

"Where is your brother?" he asked.

"He was in London when he wrote."

"He has thrown up his hand." Ford was pessimistic again.

Miss Adair looked about her despairingly for some means of prolonging
the whispered confidence. Penfield, deferentially in the rear of the
platform group, was never safely out of earshot.

"I want to see the engine that so nearly plunged us into a collision
last night," she said aloud; and Penfield's visible ear betrayed the
listening mind.

Ford took his cue promptly. "We can go out the other way," he said; and
the secretary _pro tempore_ had no excuse for following.

They found the cab of the 1012 deserted, with the steam in the huge
boiler singing softly at the behest of the banked fire. Miss Adair lost
her curiosity as soon as Ford had lifted her to the foot-plate.

"Now you are to tell me all about it--quickly," she commanded. "Uncle
Sidney will be calling for you as soon as he misses you. Why are you so
foolish as to talk about resigning? Don't you see what they will say
then?--that you were afraid?"

Ford was leaning against the centered reversing-lever, and his face was
gloomy again.

"Possibly I am afraid," he suggested.

"You should be more afraid of dishono