“I’m wanting to ask you something, sir.” The man surveyed him with a scowl. “Who told you to come up here?” he demanded. “It were Johnny Bennett, sir.” The scowling face changed subtly. It seemed to grow more human beneath its mask. Tomlinson took heart. “It’s only a word I want with you, sir.” “Come in.” Tomlinson shut the door circumspectly and stood turning his hat in his fingers. “Well?” “It ’s the place, sir--I ’m Tomlinson,” he said.”_Oh--you--are--Tomlinson_--” The old man shrank a little, as if each word had struck him lightly in the face. Then he raised his head. “I ’ve served the road forty year,” he said, repeating his lesson, “and I’ve never done harm. I’ve worked early and I’ve worked late for ye, and never a word of complaint.” The president of the road stirred sharply. “The Bridgewater wreck--” The old man raised his hand. “It’s that I wanted to speak about, Mr. Tetlow.” There was a simple dignity in the words. “I’d been on duty seventeen hour--and ten hour before that--with not a wink of sleep. They run us hard on the hours, sir.” “The other men stand it--the young men.” The words had a kind of cutting emphasis. The old man raised his red eyes. “They’ve not gi’ed their strength to the road, sir, as I have--” He threw out a hand. “The road’s had all o’ me.” Simeon eyed him keenly, the bent look and worn shoulders. His glance traveled up and down the thin frame slowly.... Not an ounce of work left in him. “We ’ve no place for incompetents,” he said, turning away. Tomlinson made a step forward, as if he would touch him with his hands. Then he stood quiet. “There might be a boy’s place, sir--” The man wheeled sharply, driven without and within--“I tell you we’ve nothing for you. You ’ve done your work. You ’ve had your pay. You ’re used up.” It was the biting truth and the old man shrank before it. “I can’t spend any more time on you,” said the president of the road. He turned decisively to his desk. For a moment Tomlinson stood with bent head. Then he raised his red-rimmed eyes, fixing them on the man before him. His right hand lifted itself significantly. “May the God in heaven curse ye, Simeon Tetlow, as ye have cursed me this day. May He shrivel ye, body and soul, in hell--” The words were shrill. “Curse ye--curse ye!”