"Oh, 'twas a hot night, Wayland, my boy; an' hot for more reasons than one. Th' tin horns an' the plugs an' the toots had come up t' our construction camp, an' of a Monday mornin' after Sunday's spree, y' cud count fifty dead navvies, Chinks an' Japs an' dagoes, washed down th' river after gamblers' fights an' chucked up in the sands o' Kickin' Horse! Well, a lot o' big fellows o' th' railway company had come thro' that day on the first train. There was Strathcona, who was plain Donald Smith in them days, an' Van Horn, who was manager, an' Ross, who was contractor! A'd been workin' m' crews on the high span bridge, there,--y' don't know,--well no matter, 'tis the highest in the Rockies an' dangerous from a curve! A didn't want that train load o' directors to risk crossin': wasn't safe! M' crew hadn't one main girder placed; but Ross was a headstrong dour man; an' Smith--Smith wud a' sent a train thro' Hell in them days to prove that railway could be built. Full lickety smash their train came onto that bridge o' mine off the sharp curve: the dagoes went yellow as cheese wi' fear, th' Chinks chattered in their jaws, an' the Japs: well the Japs hung on to the girder an' the cranes. A saw th' bridge heave an' swerve, an' th' girder went smashin' to th' bottom o' yon creek bed so far below y' could scarcely see the water; Ross was ridin' wi' th' engineer. Ross kept his head, ordered them to throw throttle open. All that saved that train load o' directors was th' train got across before th' weight smashed thro'; way a quick skater can cross thin ice. Man alive, but A was mad, riskin' m' crew o' two hundred workmen for a train load o' rash directors! Th' train stopped! A dashed up! Ross opened out, his throttle was full open: so was mine; an' th' steam an' smoke escapin' from yon big mogul,--well, Wayland, them was my unregenerate days! A may as well confess, Wayland, A gave him back all he'd given with sulphur thrown in extra; till Donald Smith poked his head out o' th' private car callin', 'Go on, Ross! Go on, what are you delayin' for?' Well, then, three of us contractors and th' company doctor was summoned to th' coast next week. We were all so mad at the fool rashness, we had our resignations in our pockets. They had our pay checks ready; but when they saw all four of us had our resignations written, well, everybody took a cool breath; an' A think mebbee th' wise little man o' that private car sent across something to help us wash away bitter memories! Anyway, 'twas a hot night, Wayland! Y' couldn't drink one of the four under th' table; an' we had cashed our checks at the pay car! A was playin' wi' th' doctor for partner! Mebbee, it was that little night cap from the private car, mebbee, well, in an hour or two, three month's wages for four men was in the middle o' that table; an' mebbee th' loafers in that saloon didn't sit up! Mebbee, somebody from that private car didn't saunter in t' look us four fools over! Wayland