Sam had never done much travelling. He had been to Columbus twice and had journeyed around more or less within a fifty-mile radius of Amesville, but penetrating a hundred and twenty-odd miles into the wilds of northern Ohio was something new and not a little exciting. There had never, particularly since his father had died, been much money for railroad tickets and sight-seeing. Sam’s father had been a railroad engineer, and a good one. For many years when Sam was just a little chap Mr. Craig had held the throttle on the big Mogul engine that had pulled the Western Mail through Amesville. Sam didn’t see a great deal of his father in those days, for Mr. Craig “laid-over” in Amesville but twice a week, and the days when he did see him were red-letter days. He had been very fond of his dad, and very proud of him, too; and it had been Sam’s earnest desire to grow up quick and be an engineer too. When, however, in Sam’s twelfth year, Mr. Craig returned home for the last time on a stretcher to live but a few hours, Sam lost that desire. For once the engineer had not been held to blame for an accident; a muddle-headed despatcher had sent the Western Mail crashing into a through freight between sidings; and so the railroad paid a pension to the widow. On this the family had lived until Sam, first, and then Nell, had begun to supplement the pension money with small earnings. Sam had delivered papers, worked in the mill as stock-boy, and tried his hand at several other things, while Nell, having finished school the spring before, was now a public stenographer with a tiny room of her own in Amesville’s new office building, and was a little more than making expenses.