Ralph could not repress a grand, satisfied expression of exultation as No. 999 glided gracefully into the depot at Bridgeport, over forty-seven minutes ahead of time. The station master and the assistant superintendent of the division came up to the cab instantly, the latter with his watch in his hand. "Worth waiting for, this, Fairbanks," he called out cheerily--he was well acquainted with the young railroader, for Ralph had fired freights to this point over the Great Northern once regularly for several weeks. "I'll send in a bouncing good report with lots of pleasure." "Thank you," said Ralph. "We've demonstrated, anyhow." "You have, Fairbanks," returned the official commendingly. "Only, don't lay any stress on my part of it," said Ralph. "Any engineer could run such a superb monarch of the rail as No. 999. If you don't tell them how much the experiment depended on our good friend, Fogg, here, I will have to, that's all." The fireman flushed. His eyes had a momentary pleased expression, and he glanced at Ralph, really grateful. He almost made a move as if to heartily shake the hand of his unselfish champion. "You're too modest, Fairbanks," laughed the assistant superintendent, "but we'll boost Fogg, just as he deserves. It's been a hard, anxious run, I'll warrant. We've got a relief crew coming, so you can get to bed just as soon as you like." The passenger coaches were soon emptied of the through passengers. A local engineer, fireman and brakeman took charge of the train to switch the China & Japan Mail car over to another track, ready to hitch on to the Overland express, soon to arrive, sidetrack the other coaches, and take No. 999 to the roundhouse. CHAPTER IV A WARNING Ralph doffed his working clothes, washed up at the tender spigot, and joined Clark, who stood waiting for him on the platform. Fogg, without tidying up, in a sort of tired, indifferent way was already some distance down the platform. Ralph hurried after him. "Six-fifteen to-night, Mr. Fogg, isn't it?" spoke Ralph, more to say something than anything else. "That's right," returned Fogg curtly. "Griscom directed me to a neat, quiet lodging house," added Ralph. "Won't you join me?" "Can't--got some friends waiting for me," responded the fireman. Ralph followed him seriously and sadly with his eyes. Fogg was making for Railroad Row, with its red saloon signs, and Ralph felt sorry for him. "See here," spoke Clark, as they walked along together, "headed for a bunk, I suppose?" "Yes," answered Ralph. "John Griscom, that's our veteran engineer, and a rare good friend of mine, told me about a cheap, comfortable lodging house to put up at. It's some distance from the depot, but I believe I shall go there." "Good idea," approved Clark. "I've been in some of those railroad men's hotels yonder, and they're not very high toned--nor clean." "What's your program?" inquired Ralph.