“He ’s the man,” said Simeon promptly. “Rascal! Known him thirty years. He could n’t tell the straight truth if he tried--no more ’n he can walk straight.” His mouth shut grimly. “He won’t get a cent out of _this_ road--not while _I_ run it!” “I don’t think he will,” said the boy quietly. “He was there--at the wreck. I saw him. But he came in a buggy.” “Buggy?” Simeon sat up. The boy nodded. “And he went away in it.-It was while I was looking after the freight--along toward the end. I had sealed the cars that were n’t broken up and I was trying to tally odds and ends--Things were scattered, you know?” The man’s eyes assented gloomily. “I was down in that gully to the left, looking after things, and I came on the horse and buggy tied there--a little way in from the road.” Simeon was smiling now, a look of exultation in his eyes. “You saw him?” “He came down and got in while I was there--” “See you?” “It was a little off in the trees where I was; but I saw him quite plainly. It was getting light then--four o’clock, at least.” Simeon chuckled. He reached out a hand. “Let’s have his claim--Twenty thousand, is it?” He looked at it. “Ten cents would buy him--body and soul!” he said scornfully. “Just like him--to hear of it and drive across country--five miles--to get evidence!” He looked at John shrewdly. “Perjury’s a good thing--put him where he belongs--where he ’ll stay put, too. He won’t go driving across country, making up claims for damages for quite a spell, likely, if he pushes this one.” He tapped the paper in his hand. “Twenty thousand he wants, does he? Let him get it--work for it--making shoes!” He replaced the letter in his desk. “We ’ll keep that,” he said. “We won’t trouble McKinnon with it--not just yet.” He returned to his work, a look of satisfaction in his face, and went through the remaining letters, laying them one side, making a note for reference. “That’s all!” He placed the last one on its pile and gathered up the bunch. “There ’s one thing I ’ve noticed,” he said drily, “folks that get to handing in their claims inside of twenty-four hours ain’t very badly damaged.” The boy looked up absently. “Did you mean this, sir?” He had picked up a letter from the pile and he brought it across, laying it on Simeon’s desk. Across one corner of it a note was scrawled in Simeon’s small, crabbed hand. He looked at it with a snort. “Why should n’t I?” he demanded. John surveyed it thoughtfully. “I did n’t know but you would like to read it again.” Simeon took it in his hand. “I’ve read it a number of times already,” he said. “You see what it means, don’t you?” He was looking over the top of his glasses at the boy’s face. The boy nodded. “They mean that you will promise to hold to the rates of the last two years.” “They don’t say so--” “It _means_ that,” said the boy.