He put on his great coat. He pulled his cap over his ears. The child spoke in a high, apprehensive voice. "Don't go away, papa." He stared at the child, considering. "Put his things on, Sally," he directed at last. "What for?" "I'll send him back from the tower with something that will make you feel easier." Her eyes brightened. "Isn't that against the rules?" "Guess I can afford to break one for a change," he said. "I'm not likely to need it myself to-night. Come, Sonny." The child shrank in the corner, his pudgy hands raised defensively. "It's only a little ways, and Sonny can run home fast," his mother coaxed. Against his ineffective reluctance she put on his coat and hat. Tolliver took the child by the hand and led him, sobbing unevenly, into the wind-haunted darkness. The father chatted encouragingly, pointing to two or three lights, scattered, barely visible; beacons that marked unprofitable farms. It was, in fact, only a short distance to the single track railroad and the signal tower, near one end of a long siding. In the heavy, boisterous night the yellow glow from the upper windows, and the red and green of the switch lamps, close to the ground, had a festive appearance. The child's sobs drifted away. His father swung him in his arms, entered the tower, and climbed the stairs. Above, feet stirred restlessly. A surly voice came down. "Here at last, eh?" When Tolliver's head was above the level of the flooring he could see the switch levers, and the table, gleaming with the telegraph instruments, and dull with untidy clips of yellow paper; but the detail that held him was the gross, expectant face of Joe. Joe was as large as Tolliver, and younger. From that commanding position, he appeared gigantic. "Cutting it pretty fine," he grumbled. Tolliver came on up, set the child down, and took off his overcoat. "Fact is," he drawled, "I got held back a minute--sort of unexpected." His eyes fixed the impatient man. "What you planning to do, Joe, between now and relieving me at midnight?" Joe shifted his feet. "Don't know," he said uncomfortably. "What you bring the kid for? Want me to drop him at the house?" Tolliver shook his head. He placed his hands on his hips. "That's one thing I want to say to you, Joe. Just you keep away from the house. Thought you understood that when you got fresh with Sally the other night." Joe's face flushed angrily. "Guess I was a fool to say I was sorry about that. Guess I got to teach you I got a right to go where I please." Tolliver shook his head. "Not to our house, if we don't want you." The other leered. "You so darned sure Sally don't want me?" Impulsively Tolliver stepped forward, closing his fists. "You drop that sort of talk, or----" Joe interrupted, laughing. "One thing's sure, Tolliver. If it came to a fight between me and you I'd be almost ashamed to hit you."