“Only for some very grave reason. Not over such a silly rule as those shopmen went out on.” “Oh, they had plenty of other grievances.” “So have we all. Everybody is sore in these times. It’s in the air. Fault-finding seems to be a germ-producing disease,” and Ralph grinned. “But make up your mind,” and he added this earnestly, “I am not going to be bit by such a microbe as McCarrey. Not any!” Perhaps his sane and sensible speech on every possible occasion did something toward keeping the better class of Great Northern employees steady. But when he got back to Rockton on the return trip he found the yards almost dead. The morning yard shift had gone out when they found that the new order of the supervisor’s on the shop board applied to them as well. At once, of course, the train dispatching department was balled up with late freights. But as it stood, Ralph had no part of that worry on his mind. Mr. Glidden had sent one of his best men from main headquarters to sit at Ralph’s desk, and the latter started home through the bustling streets, weary but satisfied. He hoped to put in a long sleep before being called for the midnight run again. Was it by chance, or with voluntary intention, that the young railroader went through the block on which Cherry Hopkins lived? He did not always walk home that way. But it was true some thought of the pretty girl was almost always in his mind at this time. He had passed the Hopkins house without looking at it and was several yards beyond when he heard a door slam and a clear voice called to him: “Ralph Fairbanks! Ralph Fairbanks!” Ralph wheeled to see the girl, her bobbed hair flying, running down the path and out of the gate. But he saw something else, too. Coming along the sidewalk and increasing his stride as he saw and heard his daughter, was Mr. Barton Hopkins. His countenance displayed all the dislike and disapproval of Ralph that the latter knew the supervisor felt. “Oh, Ralph!” cried the unconscious Cherry. “I want to speak to you.” Ralph walked back to meet her. He did not intend to run from Barton Hopkins. But he foresaw trouble for the pretty and impulsive girl. “Oh, Ralph Fairbanks! I have heard what you did last night. It was fine of you—taking out the Flyer when the poor old engineer dropped dead. What a terrible thing that was!” “You are right. It is a sorry thing for By’s family. I understand he did not leave them well fixed.” “Won’t the Brotherhood——” “It will do all that is possible. But there is no real pension for an engineer’s family. He only carried accident insurance. There must have always been something the matter with his heart that kept him from getting regular insurance. And he hid it.” “And was a criminal, thereby,” said the harsh voice of Supervisor Hopkins behind his daughter. “Suppose that had happened—his death—when he was driving his engine on the road? Somebody was at fault there, and I mean to find out who. The old man should have been retired long ago.”