“He will like it,” said John heartily. “And it will be good for the little Tomlinsons--There are two children, you know?” “I don’t know anything about them,” said Simeon wearily. “I don’t care--whether there are children--or not. He can have the farm, if he wants it, rent free.” He looked about for his hat. “I ’m going home,” he said. “I’m tired.” The freshness of his sleep had left him. He was old and haggard once more. And John, as he handed him his hat, was struck anew by the misery in the face. “I am going in a minute, sir. Don’t you want me to walk along with you?” “No, no. I ’m all right. Stay and write your letter. You’d better send it tonight.” XIX HE went slowly toward the door--a bent old man. But at the door, he paused and looked back, his lip moving tremulously. John sprang toward him. “What is it, sir?” “I can’t--go away--not before the fifth-two weeks. Blake must give me that two weeks! _You_ know what it means--if I go now!” His voice was harsh and he lifted his gaunt, shaking hand to the broad shoulder that bent toward him. “It’s ruin--John--for the road! I _can’t_ do it! It’s my _life!_” The strong hand reached up to the quivering one and drew it down, holding it fast. “You shall not go, sir. You shall stay here till the fifth--and save the road.” The low, quiet tone was full of confidence. But Simeon’s voice broke across it harshly. “Blake said he would n’t give me a day--not twenty-four hours!” he said hoarsely, “You should have heard him talk!” He shuddered a little. “Never mind, sir,” said John. “You _shall_ stay--if you want to.” The helpless eyes devoured his face. “I can’t!” He half whispered the words. “I’m afraid!” “Listen, sir.” John’s face was close to his and a kind of power seemed to pass from the clear eyes into the wavering ones. “You shall stay if you want to.” “If I want to?” repeated Simeon vaguely. “Yes. Listen.” He had led him back to his chair and placed him in it. “Now I will tell you.” Simply, as if to a child, John laid the plan before him. It was not something new--thought of on the spur of the moment. For weeks the youth had seen the approach of some such crisis as this and his slow mind had been making ready for it, working out the details with careful exactness. If the road could be tided over the semi-annual meeting, everything was saved. In spite of the attacks of the C. B. and L. and in spite of Simeon’s quixotic schemes for the country, there would be a comfortable dividend to declare. And with Simeon at the head of the table--not a wreck apparently, but the competent, keen-witted man whom the directors knew and trusted--all would be well. After that, let rumors get abroad--The directors would buy up any frightened stock that might be thrown on the market. There could be no attack on the road--with their confidence unshaken. Simeon’s face, as he listened, lost its strained-look and his lips seemed to move to the slow words that unfolded the plan to him.