Ralph was a good deal in doubt and anxious as to his railroad career, immediate and prospective. As has been told, his trip to Bridgeport had been a record run. The fact that the China & Japan Mail could be delivered on time, indicated a possibility that the Great Northern might make a feature of new train service. It would not, however, be done in a day. No. 999 might be put on the Dover branch of the Great Northern, or accomodation service to other points, and the Overland Express connection canceled. There had been all kinds of speculation and gossip at the dog house as to the new system of business expansion adopted by the Great Northern. That road had acquired new branches during the past year, and was becoming a big system of itself. There was talk about a consolidation with another line, which might enable the road to arrange for traffic clear to the Pacific. New splendid train service was talked of everywhere, among the workmen, and every ambitious railroader was looking for a handsome and substantial promotion. Ralph could not tell until he reported at the roundhouse after twelve o'clock when and how he would start out again. On the Bridgeport run he was not due until the next morning. All he was sure of was that he and Fogg were regulars for No. 999 wherever that locomotive was assigned, until further orders interfered. Despite the successful record run to Bridgeport, somebody was listed for at least a "call-down" on account of the accident on the siding at Plympton. Every time Ralph thought of that, he recollected his "find" in Lemuel Fogg's bunker, and his face became grave and distressed. "It's bound to come out," he reflected, as he strolled into the neat, attractive garden after breakfast. "Why, Mr. Griscom--I'm glad to see you." His old railroad friend was passing the house on his way to the roundhouse to report for duty. His brisk step showed that he was limited as to time, but he paused for a moment. "You got there, Fairbanks, didn't you?" he commented heartily. "Good. I knew you would, but say, what about this mix-up on the signals at Plympton?" "Oh, that wasn't much," declared Ralph. "Enough to put the master mechanic on his mettle," objected the veteran engineer. "He's going to call all hands on the carpet. Had me in yesterday afternoon. He showed me your conductor's report wired from Bridgeport. It throws all the blame on Adams, the new station man at Plympton. The conductor declares it was all his fault--'color blind,' see? Master mechanic had Adams down there yesterday." "Surely no action is taken yet?" inquired Ralph anxiously. "No, but I fancy Adams will go. It's a plain case, I think. Your signals were special and clear right of way, that's sure. Danforth is ready to swear to that. Adams quite as positively swears that the green signals on the locomotive were set on a call for the siding. He broke down and cried like a child when it was hinted that a discharge from the service was likely."