"This train is made up in just the same fashion every night," he explains. "These two Hygienic cars are always the fifth and sixth. If they were the eighth and ninth some nifty evening--if some smart Aleck of a yardmaster up the line would take to shuffling up these cars as you shuffle a deck of cards--we would have a near riot here, and I couldn't get these platforms cleared of the milkmen for that market-truck train that backs in here from the south every night at 11:55. [Illustration: INSIDE THE WEST ALBANY SHOPS OF THE NEW YORK CENTRAL: PICKING UP A LOCOMOTIVE WITH THE TRAVELLING CRANE] [Illustration: A LOCOMOTIVE UPON THE TESTING-TABLE AT THE ALTOONA SHOPS OF THE PENNSYLVANIA] [Illustration: "THE ROUNDHOUSE IS A SPRAWLING THING"] [Illustration: DENIZENS OF THE ROUNDHOUSE] "So they keep closely to the formation of our trains, and that of itself is no terminal problem. Away up the line 90 miles--150,--250,--everywhere that we have a big junction yard, the yard boss has his positive instructions about these milk trains. By the time this fellow has cleared out of P---- J----, 90 miles up the road and our nearest road yard outside of the metropolitan district, it's always in just the shape you see it to-night. After that there's nothing to be done here except cut off the road engine at our terminal yard and pick out a switcher to back her into position at this shed. It's nice work, and night after night that engineer of the switcher does not vary four inches in the locations of these car-doors." He lifts his lantern, and we peek into the interior of one of these cool milk-cars. This has the bottled milk in cases. The cases are packed four tiers high--never higher--and your guide explains to you that four cases is the limit of a hand-truck. All these things make for simplicity in handling. You peer into another car. The ten-gallon cans are in long diagonal rows, covering the entire floor of the car. They form a regular tessellated pattern, like the marble tiling of old-fashioned hotels and banks. "Those little farmer boys," says the platform boss, "sure do that trick well. That speaks pretty neat for Sullivanville. They all used to put the cans in straight rows, running lengthwise of the car. One day one of the smartest of those Sullivanville boys discovered that by putting the cans in diagonal rows, this-wise, he would gain a hundred cans in the loading. That added a thousand gallons to the capacity of the car. The Super gave him a good job, and some day you'll see he'll be running a railroad of his own." * * * * * Midnight. Downtown is still more deserted, if that is possible, than when we first saw it three hours ago. The stillness of the deep night is hard upon the city; yet here on this broad quay street which runs its stone-paved length up and down past the wharves of the harbor-front, all is alive.