"What's your name--Toddles?" inquired Donkin, as Toddles halted before
the despatcher's table.

Toddles froze instantly--hard. His fists doubled; there was a smile on
Donkin's face. Then his fists slowly uncurled; the smile on Donkin's
face had broadened, but there wasn't any malice in the smile.

"Christopher Hyslop Hoogan," said Toddles, unbending.

Donkin put his hand quickly to his mouth--and coughed.

"Um-m!" said he pleasantly. "Super hard on you this morning--Hoogan?"

And with the words Toddles' heart went out to the big despatcher:
"Hoogan"--and a man-to-man tone.

"No," said Toddles cordially. "Say, I thought you were on the night
trick."

"Double-shift--short-handed," replied Donkin. "Come from New York,
don't you?"

"Yes," said Toddles.

"Mother and father down there still?"

It came quick and unexpected, and Toddles stared for a moment. Then he
walked over to the window.

"I haven't got any," he said.

There wasn't any sound for an instant, save the clicking of the
instruments; then Donkin spoke again--a little gruffly:

"When are you going to quit making an ass of yourself?"

Toddles swung from the window, hurt. Donkin, after all, was like all
the rest of them.

"Well?" prompted the despatcher.

"You go to blazes!" said Toddles bitterly, and started for the door.

Donkin halted him.

"You're only fooling yourself, Hoogan," he said coolly. "If you wanted
what you call a real railroad job as much as you pretend you do, you'd
get one."

"Eh?" demanded Toddles defiantly; and went back to the table.

"A fellow," said Donkin, putting a little sting into his words, "never
got anywhere by going around with a chip on his shoulder fighting
everybody because they called him Toddles, and making a nuisance of
himself with the Big Fellows until they got sick of the sight of him."

It was a pretty stiff arraignment. Toddles choked over it, and the
angry blood flushed to his cheeks.

"That's all right for you!" he spluttered out hotly. "You don't look
too small for the train crews or the roundhouse, and they don't call
you Toddles so's nobody 'll forget it. What'd you do?"

"I'll tell you what I'd do," said Donkin quietly. "I'd make everybody
on the division wish their own name was Toddles before I was through
with them, and I'd _make_ a job for myself."

Toddles blinked helplessly.

"Getting right down to a cash fare," continued Donkin, after a moment,
as Toddles did not s